When she had gone I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep would not come.  After a time I heard voices, and then I saw a black hand open the tent door and lay a package on the ground.  I got up, and saw my name on the package, which proved to contain a new uniform.  I dressed and went out.  The Doctor’s negro servant was cooking supper.  I asked him who gave him the package he had put into the tent.  He said, “Miss Liddy she done sont me wid a note to de ginnle en’ de ginnle he gimme anudda’ note en’ dat man he gimme de bunnle.”

The Doctor came while the table was being spread.  I gave a detailed account of my work, his little eyes twinkling with interest as I talked, and Lydia saying not a word.

When I had ended, I said, “And I have to thank Miss Lydia for her interest in a ragged rebel; she had the forethought, while I was trying to sleep, to make a requisition in my behalf; see my new uniform, Doctor?”

“I’ll give her a kiss for showing her good sense,” said her father.

Lydia smiled.  “You looked so forlorn—­or so tattered and torn—­that I pitied you; I wrote a note to General Morell, not knowing what else to do.”

“Did he reply?” I asked, thinking wildly, at the time, of the conclusion of the celebrated romance called “The House that Jack Built.”

“Yes,” said she; “you may keep the uniform, and I’ll keep the note.  I am thinking that I’ll become a collector of autographs.”

“Why didn’t you let that Confederate, whom you found behind the log, come with you?” asked the Doctor; “do you not think that he was trying to desert?”

“I thought so, Doctor,” said I; “but I feared to be encumbered with him.  Speed was what I wanted just then.”

“I suppose you were right,” said he; “if he wants to come, he can come.”

“I don’t think such a man should have been trusted at all,” said Lydia; “if he would betray his own people, why should he not betray us?”

“Let us not condemn him unjustly; possibly he was telling the simple truth,” said the Doctor.

“In that case,” said I, “I should have caught a Tartar if I had accepted his company.”

“One more thing,” said the Doctor; “in talking to Captain Lewis,”—­the Doctor did not say Lewis, but called the officer by his name,—­“in talking to Captain Blank, why did you not raise your voice loud enough for Jones to hear you?  That would have relieved you at once.”

“That is true, Doctor; but I did not understand the situation at all.  Yes, if I had known what he was driving at, a call to Jones would have settled matters.”

“I doubt it,” said Lydia; “the captain might have thought you were Roderick Dhu.”

“That man must be somewhat idiotic,” said the Doctor; “in fact, all those lancers are what we mildly term unfortunates.  I suspect that the captain had begun to realize the impotency of his command in front of Enfield rifles.  I fancy that he was frightened, and that he blustered to hide his scare.”