“Why, Lieutenant Somers, how do you do, sir?  I am very glad to meet you again.  I heard that you had been taken prisoner.  I am most happy to see that you have escaped.”

This was rather more than the major had been expecting, and he suddenly found himself placed in a most awkward position.  But his presence of mind never forsook him; and, accepting the rebel’s proffered hand, he shook it with apparent cordiality, and replied: 

“Thank you, sir.  I, myself, am not sorry to know that I am a free man once more.”

“You probably do not remember me,” continued the general, “but I was well acquainted with your father before he moved to Georgia, and used to trot you on my knee when you were a little fellow; and I do believe you were the ugliest little brat I ever had any thing to do with.  You did nothing but yell and screech from morning until night.  But, by the way, your father met his death in a very singular manner, did he not?”

“Yes, sir—­very singular—­very singular, indeed,” replied the major, promptly, as though he were perfectly familiar with all of the particulars, although in reality he was sorely puzzled to know what to say.  What if the rebel should ask him to explain the affair?  But the general appeared to be well enough acquainted with the matter, for he continued: 

“He died like a brave man, and a soldier.  I suppose you intend to take ample revenge upon the Yankees to pay for it.”

“Yes, sir; and I am now on the trail of the very man who shot him.”  The major said this at a venture; but, fortunately, he was correct in his surmise as to the manner in which Mr. Somers departed this life.

While this conversation was going on, Frank was a good deal annoyed to see that George’s sisters, and one of his brothers, were engaged in mysterious whisperings, now and then darting suspicious glances toward his new companion.  When the general entered, George had risen with the rest and saluted him, after which he had resumed his seat, and the deep blush of excitement that arose to his cheek had quickly given place to the same careless look that Frank had before noticed.  George was also aware that the whispering that was going on related to himself, and it was evident that his relatives had some suspicions of who he was; but, if it caused him any uneasiness, he was very careful to conceal it.

At length, one of his brothers drew his chair to his side, and said: 

“Excuse me, sir; but I believe I’ve seen you before.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised if you had, sir,” answered George, steadily meeting the rebel’s gaze.  “I know I’ve seen you before.”

His brother started back in his chair, and a gleam of triumph shot across his face as he exclaimed: 

“George, I know you.”

“And you will have cause to know me better before this war is over,” answered George, forgetting, in his excitement, all the precautions he had before adopted to escape being recognized.