birds, were not without their effect, however, and she said aloud:
"I might be very happy even here if, like the birds, I had the heart
to sing--and I would sing if I truly lived and had something to live
for."

The sun was approaching the horizon, and she was rising wearily and
reluctantly to return when she heard the report of firearms,
followed by the sound of swiftly galloping horses. Beyond the brook,
on the margin of which she stood, rose a precipitous bank overhung
with vines and bushes, and a few rods further back was a plantation
road descending toward a wide belt of forest. A thick copse and
growth of young trees ran from the top of the bank toward the road,
hiding from her vision that portion of the lane from which the
sounds were approaching. Suddenly half a dozen cavalrymen, whom she
knew to be Federals from their blue uniforms, galloped into view and
passed on in the direction of the forest. One of the group turned
his horse sharply behind the concealing copse and spurred directly
toward her. She had only time to throw up her hands and utter an
involuntary cry of warning about the steep bank, when the horse
sprang through the treacherous shrubbery and fell headlong into the
stream. The rider saw his peril, withdrew his feet from the
stirrups, and in an instinctive effort for self-preservation, threw
himself forward, falling upon the sand almost at the young girl's
feet. He uttered a groan, shivered, and became insensible. A moment
or two later a band in gray galloped by wholly intent upon the
Federals, who had disappeared spurring for the woods, and she
recognized her cousin, Madison Whately, leading the pursuit. Neither
he nor any of his party looked her way, and it was evident that the
Union soldier who had so abruptly diverged from the road behind the
screening copse had not been discovered. The sounds died away as