"It must have been General Johnston."

"I thought as much. The two were discussing the getting of despatches
through to Beauregard, and decided no one could succeed but a fellow
they called Billie, some relative or friend of Hardy's. It was all
arranged he should try it, and the major started off to complete
arrangements. An aide, with the despatches, was to meet the messenger at
the 'Three Corners,' where the little log church is, and then accompany
him through the pickets. It was plainly enough my duty to intercept
these if I could, but in order to do so I must pass through two miles of
the Confederate camp, meeting soldiers almost every step of the way.
That was when I stole the jacket, and slipped it on, and never thought
of it again until you spoke."

She was leaning forward now, intensely interested, her lips parted, the
quick breath revealed by the pulsing of her breast.

"And--and you got to the 'Three Corners'?"

"To a point just below. I ran most of the way, and then had to crawl
through the bushes to get around a picket-post, but I believed I was
there in plenty of time. Then you came rattling down the hill, with an
officer riding along beside you, and, of course, I mistook you for
Billie. I jumped your outfit in the hollow."

She flung up her hands in expressive gesture.

"Were you hanging there all that time--even before the lieutenant left?"