"Why, sir, I have written to you, and to your daughter, and your daughter has written to me; and now you seem never to have heard of me. I have told you that I reside in Union, Alabama; and that I am a friend of Owen." "We know a young man from that town very well, though we never saw him. His name is Allan Garland; but it is impossible that you should be the person." "I must go, comrade," said Somers desperately, as he rushed out of the door. "Wait a moment!" exclaimed Mr. Raynes, grasping him by the arm; for the old farmer seemed to think his presence was necessary to the perfect unraveling of the mystery. "It seems to me you ought to know this young man, if none of us do." "I do not, Mr. Raynes; never saw him before in my life," protested Somers, feeling very much like a condemned criminal. "My name is Allan Garland," quietly continued the dignified young rebel. "I am, undoubtedly, the person to whom you allude." "Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Raynes, still holding Somers's arm with the grasp of a vise. "Impossible!" almost shouted the fair Sue, more excited than she would have been, if, through patient reading, she had arrived at the last chapter of a sensational novel, where the pin is pulled out and all the villains tumble down to perdition and all the angels stumble upon their apotheosis. "Impossible!" chimed in Mrs. Raynes, who had preserved a most remarkable silence, for a woman, during the exciting incidents we have transcribed. "May I be allowed to inquire why you think it is impossible?" calmly demanded the gentle rebel, who, in his turn, was amazed at the singular course of events. Sue did not know what else to do; so she sat down in a chair, and laughed with hysterical vehemence at the strange aspect of the affair. The old man opened his eyes, and opened his mouth; but he did not forget to hold on with all his might to the arm of the unfortunate lieutenant, who was just then picturing to himself the interior of a rebel dungeon; which view suddenly dissolved into an indistinct representation of a tree, from a stout limb of which was suspended a rope, hanging down over a cart--these latter appurtenances being symbolical of the usual rebel method of hanging a spy.