An hour of avowal could not have told me more; could not have filled me half so full of sympathy, admiration and love, as did that one slight motion. It befitted the day, a day outwardly so quiescent, yet in which so much was going on. A realization of this quiet activity kept us silent until we had come through the woods-pasture to its southern border, and so through the big white field-gate into the public road; now we turned up toward the grove-gate, and here I spoke again. "Do you still think we ought to wait here for the command?"

That from a private soldier to his captain! Yet all my leader answered was "You think there's cause to change our mind?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant; do you think Jewett has run back into his own lines?"

"Yes, I think so; and you?"

"Why, eh,--Lieutenant, I don't believe there's a braver man in Grant's army than that one a-straddle of my horse to-day! Why, just the way he got him, night before last,--you've heard that, haven't you?"

"Yes, the General told me. And so you think--"

"Lieutenant, I can't help believing he's out here to make a new record for himself, at whatever cost!"

We went on some steps in silence and entered the gate of the house-grove; and just as Ferry would have replied we discovered before us in the mottled shade of the driveway, with her arm on Cecile's shoulders as his lay on mine, and with _her_ eyes counting _her_ slackening steps, Charlotte Oliver. They must have espied us already out in the highway, for they also were turned toward the house, and as we neared them Charlotte faced round with a cheery absence of surprise and said "Mr. Smith, don't we owe each other a better acquaintance? Suppose we settle up."

XXXI

THE RED STAR'S WARNING

It seemed quite as undeniable, as we stood there, that Ned Ferry owed Cecile a better acquaintance. Every new hour enhanced her graces, and were I, here, less engrossed with her companion, I could pitch the praises of Cecile upon almost as high and brilliant a key--there may be room for that yet. Ferry moved on at her side. Charlotte stayed a moment to laugh at a squirrel, and then turned to walk, saying with eyes on the earth--

"If I tell you something, will you never tell?"

I looked down too. "Suppose I should feel sure it ought to be told."

"If you wait till you do you may tell it; that will suit me well enough."

"I will always suit you the best I can."

"I don't know why you should," she said.

"You risked your life to save mine; and you risked it when I did not deserve so much as your respect."

"Oh!--we must never talk about that again, Richard; you saw me in the evilest guise I ever wore, and that is saying much."

"But," I responded, "you put it on for a better reason than you could tell me then or can tell me now, though now I know your story."