“Th—­”

There was a thud of horses’ hoofs behind the stable, Bell’s half-spoken word, and the sharp bark of Le Gaire’s levelled derringer.  I felt the impact of the ball, and spun half around, the pressure of my finger discharging my own weapon in the air, yet kept my feet.  I was shocked, dazed, but conscious I remained unhurt.  Then, with a crash, three horsemen leaped the low fence, riding recklessly toward us.  I seemed to see the gray-clad figures through a strange mist, which gradually cleared as they came to a sharp halt.  The one in advance was a gaunt, unshaven sergeant, lifting a hand in perfunctory salute, and glancing curiously at my uniform.

“Mornin’, gentlemen,” he said briefly.  “Is this the Hardy house—­Johnston’s headquarters?”

The major answered, and I noticed now he had Le Gaire gripped by the arm.

“This is the Hardy house, and I am Major Hardy, but Johnston is not here.  Who are you?”

“Couriers from Chambers’ column, sir.  He is advancing up this pike.  Where will we find Johnston?”

“Take the first road to your right, and inquire.  When will Chambers be up?”

“Within four or five hours.  What’s going on here?  A little affair?”

Hardy nodded.  The sergeant sat still an instant, his eyes on me as though puzzled; then evidently concluded it was none of his business.

“Come on, boys!” he said, and with a dip of the spurs was off, the two others clattering behind.  Hardy swung Le Gaire sharply around, his eyes blazing.

“You damned, sneaking coward!” he roared, forgetting everything in sudden outburst.  “By Gad, Bell, this fellow is a disgrace to the uniform—­you know what he did?”

“I know he fired before I got the word out,” indignantly.

“The blamed curb—­yes; and when those fellows rode up he tried to blurt out the whole situation.  Good God, Le Gaire, aren’t you even a soldier?” shaking the fellow savagely.  “Haven’t you ever learned what parole means?  Damn you, are you totally devoid of all sense of personal honor?”

“I never gave my parole.”

“You lie, you did; you are here on exactly the same terms as Bell and I—­released on honor.  Damned if I believe there’s another man in Confederate uniform who would be guilty of so scurvy a trick.  Were you hurt, Galesworth?”

“No, the ball struck my revolver case, and made me sick for a moment.”

“No fault of Le Gaire’s—­the noise of the horses shattered his aim.  Lord! how I despise such a cowardly whelp!”

He flung the man from him so violently he fell to his knees on the ground.  The look of amazement on Le Gaire’s face, his utter inability to comprehend the meaning of it all, or why he had thus aroused the enmity of his brother officers, gave me a sudden feeling of compassion.  I stepped toward him.  Perhaps he mistook my purpose, for he staggered partially erect.

“Damn you!” he yelled.  “I’m fighting yet!” and flung the unloaded derringer with all the force of his arm at my face.