The soldier would not have allowed even one of his own officers to pass from the house or enter it without the countersign, but he was thrown off his guard by this personal appeal; and although he could not comply with the request, not being given to the bad habit of "chawin' terbacker," he shifted his weapon from hand to hand while he rummaged his pockets for "fine-cut" for the pipe of old Ephraim--the fraud, who was amply supplied. "Neb mind--neb mind," the old man said deprecatingly. "Thanky, sah, thanky! Dere's anodder soldier round de front po'ch--mebbe he's got a chaw!" And this sentinel, having listened to the colloquy with his comrade, as well as distance would permit, adopted his friendly tactics and was able to produce the requisite "chaw." He naturally supposed the countersign had been demanded and given at the door whence the servant of the house emerged, for after unctuous and profuse thanks old Ephraim swung off down the hill with another great gush of song--"I want ter go ter heaben when I die--" echoing far over the grove and the silent camps beyond. Listening to the resounding progress of his departure the first sentry thought of course that in letting him pass his comrade had taken the countersign. It was only a vague thought, however, cast after him. "That old night-hawk is bound for the river, I guess, going fishing," for nocturnal angling was the favorite sport of the darkeys of the region. The soldier did not even notice when the surge of the chant gave way to a musical whistle, still carrying the air with great spirit and a sort of enthusiasm of rhythm, "An' de angels bid me ter come along." Still less did he discriminate the difference in the change of sound, not immediately apparent, so elusive was it, and difficult to describe, when a whistle of a different timbre took up the air and finished the phrase--"I'll shout salvation as I fly!" After a pause Uncle Ephraim was in the distance, humming now, and soon all sound ceased. Both the sentinels would have sworn he had quitted the grove. But it was not alone the wind among the young firs that tossed their branches to and fro, when trembling, terrorized, casting now and then a horrified, rebuking glance at the radiant moon, as the flying scud drew back and left the sphere undimmed, he sought the spot he had marked when the responsive whistle had apprised him that his signal was understood and answered. At length he paused to catch his breath and wipe the cold drops from his brow. "Lawdy massy! dese yere shines dat dis yere Rebel cuts up will be de death ob me--ef dey ain't de death ob himse'f fust!"