“‘Oo-ee!’ said that girl, shaking her skirt, as calm as a May morning.  ‘Oo-ee!’ like a baby crowing.  ‘My, but that’s a cold river!’ And her teeth chattered.

“Well, that time I didn’t ask permission.  I took her in my arms and held her—­I had to, to keep her warm.  Couldn’t let her stand there and click her teeth—­could I?  And she didn’t fight me.  ’What did you do such a crazy thing for?’ asked I.

“‘Well, you’re mighty par-particular,’ said she as saucy as you please, but still shivering so she couldn’t talk straight.  ’They were popping g-guns at you—­that’s what for.  Roger’s a right bad shot, but he might have hit you.’

“‘And he might, have hit you,’ said I.  ’Did you happen to think of that?’

“She just laughed.  ’Oh, no—­they wouldn’t risk hitting me.  I’m too valuable—­that’s why I jumped in—­to protect you.’

“‘Oh!’ said I.  ’I’m a delicate flower, it seems.  You’ve been protecting me all day.  Who’s Roger?’

“‘My brother,’ said she, smiling up at me.

“‘Was that the man you kissed in the cabin back yonder?’

“‘Shame!’ said she.  ‘You peeped.’

“‘Was it?’ I insisted, for I wanted to know.  And she told me.

“‘Yes,’ she told me, in that low voice of hers that was hard to hear, only it paid to listen.

“‘Did you ever kiss any other man?’ said I.

“‘It’s none of your business,’ said the girl.  ’But I didn’t—­the way you mean.’

“‘Well, it wouldn’t make any difference, anyway—­nothing would,’ I said.  ‘Except this—­are you ever going to?’

“All this time that bright-colored head of hers was on my shoulder, Confederate cap and all, and I was afraid of my life to stir, for fear she’d take it away.  But when I said that I put my face down against hers and repeated the question, ‘Are you ever going to?’

“It seemed like ages before she answered and I was scared—­yet she didn’t pull away,—­and finally the words came—­low, but I heard.  ‘One,’ said she.  ‘If he wants it.’

“Then—­” the General stopped suddenly, and the splendid claret and honey color of his cheeks went a dark shade more to claret.  He had come to from his trance, and remembered me.  “I don’t know why I’m telling you all these details,” he declared abruptly.  “I suppose you’re tired to death listening.”  His alert eyes questioned me.

“General,” I begged, “don’t stop like that again.  Don’t leave out a syllable.  ‘Then—­’”

But he threw back his head boyishly and laughed with a touch of self-consciousness.  “No, madam, I won’t tell you about ‘then.’  I’ll leave so much to your imagination.  I guess you’re equal to it.  It wasn’t a second anyway before she gave a jump that took her six feet from me, and there she was tugging at the girth of her saddle.

“‘Quick—­change the saddles!’ she ordered me.  ’I must be out of my mind to throw away time when your life’s in danger.  They’re coming around by the bridge,’ she explained, ’two miles down.  And you have to have a fresh mount.  They’d catch you on that.’  She threw a contemptuous glance at my tired brute, and began unbuckling the wet straps with her little wet fingers.