A moment later I came opposite that same beam of radiance, and
cautiously peered down the sloped opening that led to the disused
fireplace. All I could perceive was a pair of legs, evidently those of
a cavalry officer, judging from the broad yellow stripe down the seam
of the light-blue trousers, and the high boots ornamented with rowel
spurs. He stood leaning carelessly against the mantel, talking with
some one just beyond the range of my vision.

At that moment the music ceased suddenly, and afraid to proceed until
it should strike up again, I braced myself securely on a projecting
stone and bent my head over the orifice until I could catch a portion
of the conversation being carried on by my unconscious neighbors.

"No," said the cavalryman, gruffly, and apparently in reply to some
previous question, "the fellow was most devilish obstinate; wouldn't
tell the first thing; even a threat of treating him as a spy and
hanging him outright proved of no avail. But Sheridan's theory is that
Lee has ordered Longstreet to hit our rear, while he makes a direct
attack in front. That's why the 'old man' proposes to get in his work
first, and we march at daylight to form connection with Hancock. By
Jove, Chesley, but that woman in black over there with Follansbee is
the handsomest picture I've seen south of the line. Mark how her eyes
sparkle, and how prettily the light gleams in her hair. Who is she, do
you chance to know?"

"Yes," lisped the other, languidly, "met her at breakfast,
headquarters, this morning. Deuced pretty and all that, mighty good
style, too, but taken, old man. She's Brennan's."