“‘Don’t do that,’ said I.  ‘Let me.’  But she pushed me away.  ’Mustn’t waste time.’  She gave her orders as business-like as an officer.  ’Do your own saddle while I attend to this.  Zero can run right away from anything they’re riding—­from anything at all.  Can’t you, Zero?’ and she gave the horse a quick pat in between unbuckling.  He was a powerful, rangy bay, and not winded by his run and his swim.  ‘He’s my father’s,’ she went on.  ’He’ll carry you through to General Hooker’s camp at Falmouth—­he knows that camp.  It’s twenty-five miles yet, and you’ve ridden fifty to-day, poor boy.’

“I wish I could tell you how pretty her voice was when she said things like that, as if she cared that I’d had a strenuous day and was a little tired.

“’How do you know I’m going to Falmouth?  How do you know how far I’ve ridden?’ I asked her, astonished again.

“‘I’m a witch,’ she said.  ’I find out everything about you-all by magic, and then I tell our officers.  They know it’s so if I tell them.  Ask Stonewall Jackson how he discovered the road to take his cavalry around for the attack on Howard.  I reckon I helped a lot at Chancellorsville.’

“‘Do you reckon you’re helping now?’ I asked, throwing my saddle over Zero’s back.  ’Strikes me you’re giving aid and comfort to the enemy hand over fist.’

“That girl surprised me whatever she did, and the reason was—­I figured it out afterward—­that she let herself be what few people let themselves be—­absolutely straightforward.  She had the gentlest ways, but she always hit straight from the shoulder, and that’s likely to surprise people.  This time she took three steps to where I stood by Zero and caught my finger in the middle of pulling up the cinch and held to it.

“‘I’m not a traitor,’ she threw at me.  ’I’m loyal to my people, and you’re my enemy—­and I’m saving you from them.  But it’s you—­it’s you,’ she whispered, looking up at me.  It was getting dark by now, but I could see her eyes.  ’When you put your hand over mine this morning it was like somebody’d telegraphed that the one man was coming; and then I looked at you, and I knew he’d got there.  I’ve never bothered about men—­mostly they’re not worth while, when there are horses—­but ever since I’ve been grown I’ve known that you’d come some time, and that I’d know you when you came.  Do you think I’m going to let you be taken—­shot, maybe?  Not much—­I’ll guard your life with every breath of mine—­and I’ll keep it safe, too.’

“Now, wasn’t that a strange way for a girl to talk?  Did you ever hear of another woman who could talk that way, and live up to it?” he demanded of me unexpectedly.

I was afraid to say the wrong thing and I spoke timidly.  “What did you do then?”

He gave me a glance smouldering with mischief.  “I didn’t do it.  I tried to, but she wouldn’t let me.

“‘Hurry, hurry,’ said she, in a panic all of a sudden.  ’They’ll be coming.  Zero’s fast, but you ought to get a good start.’