champagne corks are flying. If they fight as hard as they drink, they'll
give us trouble. Well, what do you calculate to do?" he added, after a
pause, during which Philip was moody and lost in thought.

Philip rose from his seat and paced the floor uneasily, while Rawbon
filled a glass from a flask of brandy on the table. It was now quite
dark without, and neither of them observed the figure of a woman
crouched on the narrow veranda, her chin resting on the sill of the open
window. At last Philip resumed his seat, and he, too, swallowed a deep
draught from the flask of brandy.

"Tell me what I can count upon?" he asked.

"The same grade you have, and in a crack regiment. It's no use asking
for money. They've none to spare for such as you--now don't look
savage--I mean they won't buy men that hain't seen service, and you
can't expect them to. I told you all about that before, and it's time
you had your mind made up."

"What proofs of good faith can you give me?"

Rawbon thrust his hand into his bosom and drew out a roll of parchment.

"This commission, under Gen. Beauregard's hand, to be approved when you
report yourself at headquarters."

Philip took the document and read it attentively, while Rawbon occupied
himself with filling his pipe from a leathern pouch. The female figure
stepped in at the window, and, gliding noiselessly into the room, seated
herself in a third chair by the table before either of the men became