approaching through the gloom, apparently escorting some one.

As they drew nearer the figures became plainer in the firelight. The
cavalry men had in charge a female prisoner.

She was a woman of petite figure, clad in a handsome gray riding-habit,
and mounted upon a superb horse, with rich equipments, apparently
belonging to a Federal officer of high rank. From the horse, I glanced
at the prisoner's face. It was a strange countenance. She was about
twenty-five--her complexion was dead white, except the lips which were
as red as carnations; her eyes were large and brilliant, her hair dark
and worn plain under a small riding-hat. In one delicately gauntleted
hand she held the rein of her horse--with the other, which was
ungloved, she raised a lace handkerchief to her lips. On the finger
sparkled a diamond.

There was something strange in the expression of this woman. She looked
"dangerous" in spite of her calmness.

She sat gazing at some one behind me, with the handkerchief still
raised to her lips. Then she took it away, and I could see a smile upon
them.

What was the origin of that smile, and at whom was she looking? I
turned, and found myself face to face with Colonel Mohun. His
appearance almost frightened me. His countenance wore the hue of a
corpse, his whole frame shook with quick shudders, and his eyes were
distended until the black pupils shone in the centres of two white
circles.