"I also notice that a horse has recently been fed and watered in your
carriage road. _Whose was he?_"

Again that smooth, soft voice with its languid evasions. "We have
several neighbors, Colonel. They visit us at infrequent times."

"Undoubtedly," he conceded. "But do you usually feed their horses?"

She smiled faintly. "What little hospitality is ours extends to both man
and beast."

"I can well believe it," he replied, for he saw to cross-examine this
quick witted woman would be forever useless. "And in happier times I
could wish it might extend--to me.

"Oh, I mean no offense," he interrupted as Mrs. Cary rose haughtily. "I
only want you to believe that I'm sorry for this intrusion."

She raised her eyebrows faintly and sat down again. "And was that the
reason why you asked about my neighbor's horse?"

"No," he said quickly, and as suddenly caught and held her eye. "There's
a Rebel scout who has been giving us trouble--a handsome fellow riding a
bay horse. I thought, perhaps, he might have passed this way."

If he had thought he would detect anything in her face he was once more
mistaken.

"It is more than possible," Mrs. Cary remarked with a touch of
weariness. "The road out there is a public one."