The trial was over. But one decision could be given. It soon was rumored about camp that sentence had been passed, and that at four o’clock the next day it would be read to the prisoner, in presence of the whole division. The night was wearing on. A form, closely enveloped, approached the tent of the commanding General. It proved to be the lady Alibamo. “What is the will of our ‘daughter of the army?’” asked the General, kindly. “It is that I may visit Lieutenant Wells, and bring him to my tent. I desire that an interview should take place between Miss Hayward and the doomed man.” The General seated himself at his table, and penned a few words, which he handed to Mrs. Hinton. She glanced at the contents, and then falling at the feet of that officer, she seized his hand, and kissing it, sobbingly exclaimed: “What! _without_ his chains? God bless you! God bless—” “There, there! Go! go! Don’t make _me_ weep, or I won’t forgive you,” returned the veteran warrior, as he turned away. Alibamo left his tent, and in a few minutes entered her own, in company with Lieutenant Wells, now free from all apparent restraint. When Wells entered the tent, Miss Hayward was kneeling by the side of her camp cot, her face buried in the folds of its coverings. For several moments not a word was spoken, and, as Wells gazed upon the stricken sister, he trembled violently, while a groan of intense anguish escaped him. Alibamo advanced, and gently touching her companion, said: “Mamie, my darling, here is _our friend_, Lieutenant Wells.” Miss Hayward did not raise her head, but reached forth her hand toward Wells, which, quickly kneeling by her side, he took, and pressed to his lips. “Oh, heaven bless you!” he moaned. “_You_ do not believe me capable of the dreadful crime with which I am charged?” Miss Hayward tried to speak, but convulsive sobs choked her utterance. “No, my ever kind and dear friend,” replied Alibamo, “she does _not_ believe you guilty. Nor am I satisfied that Captain Hayward has been killed. I am under the impression that he was wounded and taken prisoner by some rebels, who were lurking near our camp.” “You _hope_ for the best, and so do I; but have you any grounds for the formation of such an opinion?” asked Wells. “Yes, and to me the best of evidence. William Nettleton went in search of the captain. If he was killed, William would have found his body before this, and returned to us with the intelligence. His continued absence convinces me that the captain is still alive, and that his faithful friend Nettleton is at this moment following him. It is this hope which gives me fresh courage, and I believe a few days will see you free, and your name as untarnished as it should be. I wished to tell you this, and I also wished Miss Hayward to express to you personally, her confidence in your innocence; hence, I brought you here. You may leave us now, as my poor friend is too much agitated to converse.”