“As you like,” said the other, taking a couple of cigars from his pocket and offering one to his companion.

After lighting their cigars, the two men left the hotel, and purchasing the New York Herald and News from the news-dealer below, proceeded to the St. Louis Hotel, where Horace ordered a breakfast and champagne for himself and guest.

Throwing himself on one of the richly-covered couches that ornamented the apartment, Charles Bell—­for that was the name of the gentleman—­requested his friend to inform him who the lady was that he escorted to church.

“Well, my dear friend,” said Horace, “as you appear so desirous to know I will tell you.  I met that lady some seven years ago at Saratoga Springs.  If she is now beautiful she was ten times so then, and I endeavored to gain her affections.  She was, however, engaged to another young man of this city, and on my offering her my hand in marriage, declined it on that ground.  I followed her here with the intention of supplanting her lover in her affections, but it was of no avail; they were married, and the only satisfaction I could find was to ruin her father, which I did, and he died shortly after without a dollar to his name.”

“So she is married?” interrupted his companion.

“Yes, and has two children,” replied Horace.

“Where is her husband?”

“He left for Virginia some time ago, where I sincerely trust he will get a bullet through his heart,” was the very charitable rejoinder.

“What! do you desire to marry his widow?” asked his friend.

“No, indeed,” he replied; “but you see they are not in very good circumstances, and if he were once dead she would be compelled to work for a living, as they have no relatives in this State, and only a few in Baltimore.  To gain my object, I should pretend that I desired to befriend her—­send the two children to some nurse, and then have her all to myself.  This,” continued the villain, “is the object with which I have called upon her”—­

“And paid a visit to church for the first time in your life,” said Bell, laughing; “but,” he resumed, “it is not necessary for you to wish the husband dead—­why not proceed to work at once?”

“Well, so I would, but she is so very particular, that on the slightest suspicion she would take the alarm and communicate to her husband the fact of my having renewed my acquaintance with her, which would, perhaps, bring him home on furlough.”

“Nonsense,” replied his friend, “the secessionists need every man to assist them in driving back McDowell, and there is no chance of any furloughs being granted; besides which, we are on the eve of a great battle, and for any of the men to ask for a furlough would lay him open to the charge of cowardice.”

“That may be all true,” said Horace, “but I shall not venture on anything more as yet.  As far as I have gone, she believes me actuated by no other motives than the remembrance of my former affection for her, and, with that belief, places implicit trust in me.”