him. But before he could accomplish his purpose retribution fell on him
with a heavy hand.

Through a gap in the hedge an officer at the head of a dozen troopers
appeared. One look at the scene on the veranda and Lieutenant-Colonel
Morrison, with a smothered cry, dashed up the steps.

"You beastly coward," and catching the drunkard by the collar he twisted
him around and hurled him thudding and bumping down the steps. "Dudley,
I ought to have you shot." He swept his arm out and gave voice to a
ringing command. "Report to Lieutenant Harris--at once--_under arrest!_
Corporal! Take his gun." He paused a moment as a brother of the man now
under arrest stepped forward with a sullen face and obeyed orders.
Running his glance over the line of faces, now suddenly vacant of
expression, he whipped them mercilessly with his eye. "You men, too,
will hear from me. Go to the stable and wait. Another piece of work like
this and I'll have your coats cut off with a belt buckle! Clear out!"

Then he turned to the beautiful woman in white who stood only a few feet
away, no longer timid but in entire possession of her faculties before
what, she knew, might prove a greater danger than a drunkard.

"Madam," said the Union officer as he doffed his hat, "I couldn't
apologize for this, no matter how hard I tried; but, believe me, I
regret it--deeply."

In answer she slowly raised her heavy lidded eyes and gave him her
first thrust--smoothly and deftly.

"No apology is demanded," she murmured in soft tones. "I was merely