MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
know? Could she have passed and repassed without noticing the boy and recognizing him? These and a dozen other puzzling inquiries came leaping to my brain to add to my bewilderment. Even as I stared almost expecting the fellow to disappear before my very eyes, I saw him step back, and peer cautiously first into the parlor and then into the library. Apparently convinced that no one was near enough to observe his movements, he ran swiftly up the stairs, still grasping his rifle. Halfway up he paused, his eyes keeping a sharp lookout below.
"For the Lord's sake, sor," he whispered hoarsely, "av ye're goin' to skip, now's the toime, before the Sergeant gits here wid my relief."
"What do you mean? Have you been stationed there to let me slip through?"
"Sure, that's the programme. It's the girl that fixed it all up, an' a damn smart one she is, sor."
"Not Miss Denslow?"
"An' who the divil else would it be? Sure she picked me out from the whole bunch for the job, an' niver cracked a smoile, but them pretty oies of hers was dancin'. Just now whin she came down she give me the wink, an' said I was to pass ye out, an' niver say nothin'."
"But what are you doing here? What's the meaning of this masquerade? "
The fellow grinned, bringing his hand to a salute.
"I'm Private O'Brien, sor, of the Confed army, but damn av I know what part. I wus lift behind whin me fellow sojers departed after the late fracas. Sometimes I tell thim I belonged to Dodd's squad, sometoimes to
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