A low, single-seated cart was halted near the curb, and one of its occupants was apparently much angered.  I saw heir clutch the long brown rifle barrel which extended out at the rear over the top of the seat.  “You git out’n the road, man,” repeated she, “or I’ll take a shot at you for luck!  We done come this fur, and I reckon we c’n go the rest the way.”

That could be no one but old Mandy McGovern!  For the sake of amusement I should have left her to make her own argument with the guard, had I not in the same glance caught sight of her companion, a trim figure in close fitting corduroy of golden brown, a wide hat of russet straw shading her face, wide gauntlet gloves drawn over her little hands.

Women were not usual within the Army lines.  Women such as this were not usual anywhere.  It was Ellen!

Her face went rosy red as I hastened to the side of the cart and put down Mandy’s arm.  She stammered, unable to speak more connectedly than I myself.  Mandy could not forget her anger, and insisted that she wanted to see the “boss.”

“I am the Colonel in command right here, Aunt Mandy,” I said.  “Won’t I do?”

“You a kunnel?” she retorted.  “Looks to me like kunnels is mighty easy made if you’ll do.  No, we’re atter Ginral Meriwether, who’s comin’ here to be the real boss of all you folks.  Say, man, you taken away my man and my boy.  Where they at?”

“With me here,” I was glad to answer, “safe, and somewhere not far away.  The boy is wounded, but his arm is nearly well.”

“Ain’t got his bellyful o’ fightin’ yit?”

“No, both he and Auberry seem to be just beginning.”

“Humph!  Reackon they’re happy, then.  If a man’s gettin’ three squares a day and plenty o’ fightin’, don’t see whut more he kin ask.”

“Corporal,” I called to my sentry, who was now pacing back and forth before the door, hiding his mouth behind his hand, “put this woman under arrest, and hold her until I return.  She’s looking for privates Auberry and McGovern, G Company, First Virginia Volunteers.  Keep her in my office while they’re sent for.  Bring me my bag from the table.”

It was really a pretty fight, that between Mandy and the corporal.  The latter was obliged to call out the guard for aid.  “Sick ’em, Pete!” cried Mandy, when she found her arms pinioned; and at once there darted out from under the cart a hairy little demon of a dog, mute, mongrelish, pink-eared, which began silent havoc with the corporal’s legs.

I looked again at that dog.  I was ready to take it in my arms and cry out that it was my friend!  It was the little Indian dog that Ellen and I had tamed!  Why, then, had she kept it, why had she brought it home with her?  I doubt which way the contest would have gone, had not Mandy seen me climb into her vacated seat and take up the reins.  “Pete” then stolidly took up his place under the cart.

We turned and drove back up the shady street, Ellen and I. I saw her fingers twisting together in her lap, but as yet she had not spoken.  The flush on her cheek was deeper now.  She beat her hands together softly, confused, half frightened; but she did not beg me to leave her.