"I knows that, stranger," replied the imperturbable Joe Bagbone. "It don't make no difference." "I am sent over by General M----. I belong to the Fourth Alabama." "Shet up! Don't tell no lies, 'cause yer hain't got no time ter repent on 'em." "Then, if I understand it, you mean to murder one of your own men in cold blood." "Nothin' of the sort; only gwine to shoot a Yank." Somers looked into that hard, relentless eye; but there was not the slightest indication of any change of purpose. He felt that he stood in the presence of his executioner. All the errors of his past life crowded upon him, and the grave seemed to yawn before him. "Call the sergeant above, and he will satisfy you that I am all right," said he, making one more effort to move the villain from his wicked purpose. "Don't want the sergeant. Yer time's out, stranger." "Let me call him, then." "If yer do, I'll fire. Say yer prayers now, if yer mean ter; but I reckon the prayers of a Yank ain't of much account," replied Joe with a sneer. Somers stood within a few feet of a large tree. Joe had several times raised his rifle to his shoulder; but, when he magnanimously offered his victim the last moment of grace, he dropped it again; and our lieutenant, taking advantage of this interval, darted behind the tree. Joe raised his piece quicker than a flash; but he did not fire, for the reason that he could not secure a perfect aim, and because he was sure of a better opportunity. Our lieutenant, who had carefully preserved his revolver during the various changes he had made in his dress, now took it from his pocket, and prepared to contest the field like a man. The grayback, chagrined at this movement on the part of his victim, whom he had evidently intended to intimidate by his coolness and his ferocious words, rose from his seat in the long grass, and moved towards the tree behind which Somers had taken refuge. Probably he was not aware that the Yankee was armed; for he adopted none of the precautions which such a knowledge would have imposed upon any reasonable man. "Come out from that tree, stranger, or you shall die like a hog, with a knife; not like a man, with a rifle-ball." "I intend to die by neither," said Somers resolutely, as he discharged his pistol in the direction from which the voice of the grayback came; for he dared not take aim, lest the bullet of the ruffian should pierce his skull.