I started to speak, but before the first uncertain word came to my lips, the girl swept forward, and stood between us.

“Let me explain,” she cried swiftly.  “This gentleman is a friend of Captain Le Gaire’s, and was presented to me as Major Atherton, formerly on General Pemberton’s staff—­perhaps there may be some here who know him?”

She glanced inquiringly about on the faces of the group, and a stockily built infantry captain struck his open hand on the table.

“By Jove, that’s it!  Thought I recognized the face.  How are you, Atherton?—­met you at Big Shanty.”

Still puzzled, although evidently relieved, Beauregard remained motionless.

“But the uniform?” he questioned.  “And how did you reach the hallway without being seen?”

Her eyes met mine in a rapid flash of understanding, a little nervous laugh drawing the general’s attention.

“It is almost ridiculous,” she exclaimed.  “Major Atherton came through the lines with me last night.  He was detailed on special service, for which purpose he donned that uniform.  On meeting Captain Le Gaire here, and learning of your advance, it was no longer necessary for him to proceed at once, and, as he was very tired, he was persuaded to lie down in a room upstairs.  Waking, he naturally came down into the hall, knowing nothing of your arrival.  Have I correctly presented the case, Major Atherton?”

Her eyes challenged me, and I bowed.

“A perfectly clear statement.”

“And a most charming advocate,” added Beauregard.  “We must find you some more appropriate garments, Major, but meanwhile there is room here at the table.  Captain Bell, would you kindly move a little to the right.  Now, Hughes, serve Major Atherton.”

I do not recall ever feeling more awkwardly embarrassed than during the next few minutes.  Not that the assembled officers lacked in courtesy, or failed to interest in light conversation.  Led by the general they all endeavored to make me forget my strange position, and the unpleasant episode of arrest.  Indeed, but for the presence of Miss Willifred in the room I imagine I should have been very much at ease, perfectly capable of doing my full share of entertaining.  But with the girl standing silently in the shadow of the curtains, her eyes occasionally meeting mine, I felt a constant restraint which impelled me to answer almost in mono-syllables.  She had openly defended me, saved me from arrest; without telling a direct falsehood she had, nevertheless, led these men into a grievous misunderstanding.  Why had she done this?  Through personal interest in me?  Through some wild impulse of the moment?  I could not even guess; only, I was assured of one thing:  her secret motive involved no lack of loyalty to the cause of the South.  Realizing this I dare not presume on her continued friendliness, dare not sit there and lie calmly, filling these men with false information, and permitting imagination to run rampant.