“True,” retorted Middlemore, “there were certainly some extraordinary features in the affair.”

“If,” remarked Molineux, “he faced the enemy, I am certain he must have kept the boldest at bay; but if he shewed them his back, as from his heated appearance I strongly suspect that he did, he must have afforded the Yankee riflemen as much fun as if they had been in pursuit of a fat old raccoon.”

“Shall I ask him that he may answer for himself?” inquired Henry Grantham, whose attention had been aroused by the ironical remarks of his companions.

“By no means,” replied Middlemore, “we have ANSER enough in his mere look.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” roared Molineux and St. Clair in concert.

“Nay, nay,” interposed Julia D’Egville, who had listened impatiently to the comments passed upon the unfortunate and unconscious officer, “this keen exercise of your powers on poor Mr. Raymond is hardly fair.  Recollect (turning to Middlemore,) it is not given to all to possess the refinement of wit, nor, (addressing St. Clair) the advantages of personal attraction, therefore is it more incumbent on those, to whom such gifts are given, to be merciful unto the wanting in both.”  This was uttered with marked expression.

“Brava, my most excellent and spirited partner,” whispered Molineux, secretly delighted that the lash of the reprover had not immediately embraced him in its circuit.

“Thank you, my good, kind hearted, considerate cousin,” looked Henry Grantham.

“Oh, the devil,” muttered Middlemore to St. Clair, “we shall have her next exclaiming, in the words of Monk Lewis’ Bleeding Nun,

  ’Raymond, Raymond, I am thine
  ‘Raymond, Raymond, them art mine.’”

St. Clair shrugged his shoulders, bit his lip, threw up his large blue eyes, shewed his white teeth, slightly reddened, and looked altogether exceedingly at a loss whether to feel complimented or reproved.

“But here comes Mr. Raymond, to fight his own battles,” continued Miss D’Egville with vivacity.

“Hush,” whispered Molineux.

“Honor among thieves,” added Middlemore, in the same low tone.

“Egad,” said Raymond, wiping the yet lingering dews from his red forehead, as he advanced from the card room where he had been detained, talking over his adventure with one or two of the anxious townspeople; “I have, within the last twenty four hours, had so much running and fighting for my country, that strength is scarcely left me to fight my own battles.  But what is it, Miss D’Egville?” as he saluted Julia and her sister, “what battle am I to fight now—­some fresh quizzing of these wags, I suppose—­ ah, Middlemore, how do you do; Molineux, St. Clair, Henry Grantham, how do you all do?”

“Ah, Raymond, my dear fellow, how do you do?” greeted Captain Molineux, with the air of one who really rejoices in the reappearance of a long absent friend.

“Raymond, I am delighted to see you,” exclaimed St. Clair.