The lights were burning with a soft glow one night in the mansion when the announcement was made by Clarissa that a gentleman stood without, desiring an audience with the old master. The gentleman introduced himself as Mr. Summers (half apologetically), a reconstructed rebel. There was a moment's pause in which, by the shimmer of the lighted lamps, Colonel Seymour saw that the visitor was quite an elderly man, without beard and with soft white hair. His address was easy and insinuating. He was neatly clad in black cloth, and impressed Colonel Seymour as being a man of affairs. Together they entered the library, the Colonel observing that he conducted all business transactions in that particular room just now. Considering the unusual hour at which the visitor had arrived, in connection with the unpleasant incidents of a quite eventful day, there was nothing reassuring in the visit: the times were critical, to say the least, and his own situation so entirely defenceless, that he felt as if "vigilance was truly the price of liberty." So he addressed the stranger in a manner quite emphatic-- "May I enquire, sir, to what circumstance I am indebted for the honor of this visit?" "Why, certainly, sir," replied the bland stranger. "But will you permit me first to ask after your health and that of your family? How are you, sir?" "My family--that is my wife--is quite unwell, sir. She has been an invalid for many weeks, and I fear there is no possible hope of her recovery," said the Colonel. "Ah, that distresses me greatly; perhaps her condition is not so bad as you fear. May I ask after your health, sir?" The Colonel hesitated for a moment, and then observed, deliberately, "Physically, I am quite well, sir." "Did I not see you, sir, when we were re-crossing the Potomac on our mad flight from Gettysburg at the lower ford?" enquired the stranger. "Mad flight!" echoed the veteran with ill-concealed wrath. "Have you such a conception of the orderly retreat of our great army without the loss of a gun and without the capture of a man, as to characterize it as a mad flight? Were you a Confederate soldier, sir, and do you insult my intelligence, my loyalty, yea, my bravery, sir, by this challenged inquiry?" "My dear sir, if the statement pains you I will recall it instantly. Pray excuse me. I was Major of the 7th Virginia Cavalry, and as the army halted at the ford I saw an officer, a Colonel, who was badly wounded and who with great difficulty sat his horse on that occasion. I now see that the officer whom I then saw is the gentleman I now address, and I heartily crave your pardon for the rash expression."