“I thought,” she began coldly, “that I ought to inform you that I would probably be able to conclude my business here by the day after to-morrow, and that you would then be relieved of my presence.  I am aware—­indeed,” she added, bitterly, “I could scarcely help perceiving, that it has been an exceedingly irksome one.”

“I trust,” began Brant coldly, “that no gentleman of my command has”—­

“No!”

She interrupted him quickly, with a return of her former manner, and a passionate sweep of the hand.

“Do you suppose for a moment that I am speaking—­that I am even thinking—­of them?  What are they to me?”

“Thank you.  I am glad to know that they are nothing; and that I may now trust that you have consulted my wishes, and have reserved your animosity solely for me,” returned Brant quietly.  “That being so, I see no reason for your hurrying your departure in the least.”

She rose instantly.

“I have,” she said slowly, controlling herself with a slight effort, “found some one who will take my duty off my hands.  She is a servant of one of your neighbors,—­who is an old friend of my uncle’s.  The woman is familiar with the house, and our private property.  I will give her full instructions to act for me, and even an authorization in writing, if you prefer it.  She is already in the habit of coming here; but her visits will give you very little trouble.  And, as she is a slave, or, as you call it, I believe, a chattel, she will be already quite accustomed to the treatment which her class are in the habit of receiving from Northern hands.”

Without waiting to perceive the effect of her Parthian shot, she swept proudly out of the room.

“I wonder what she means,” mused Brant, as her quick step died away in the passage.  “One thing is certain,—­a woman like that is altogether too impulsive for a spy.”

Later, in the twilight, he saw her walking in the garden.  There was a figure at her side.  A little curious, he examined it more closely from his window.  It was already familiar to him,—­the erect, shapely form of his neighbor’s servant.  A thoughtful look passed over his face as he muttered,—­“So this is to be her deputy.”

CHAPTER III.

Called to a general council of officers at divisional headquarters the next day, Brant had little time for further speculation regarding his strange guest, but a remark from the division commander, that he preferred to commit the general plan of a movement then under discussion to their memories rather than to written orders in the ordinary routine, seemed to show that his chief still suspected the existence of a spy.  He, therefore, told him of his late interview with Miss Faulkner, and her probable withdrawal in favor of a mulatto neighbor.  The division commander received the information with indifference.