her terrible condition. She looked like a lady playing the part of stage beggar, but not quite able to forget herself in the dramatic impersonation.

Though she stated the fact that they were starving but as an excuse for her father's excitement, yet her manner was that of one asking for charity, and so he understood it, and would have granted aid without question, probably without verbal reply to her words, but that the circumstances were so novel.

The girl repeated, though less earnestly this time: "We are wofully hungry. Your men, or some one else, have stolen our mules; we can't get on, we can't go back, we can't stay here, and what in the world are we to do? Father at last made up his mind to surrender, and now it seems you won't have him." Then, with a faint little attempt at a smile and a careless gesture, she added: "He thought at least you would feed and protect your prisoners."

Vernaff hesitated; and before he found words, the old man broke in: "Come away, Claudine. These people do not care for our misfortunes. To them it is but one more injury they find themselves permitted to inflict upon their hated enemies. Why allow them the satisfaction? I had supposed you to have too much pride to bandy words with persons of their class."

Bryant laughed aloud at the dignity assumed by the old Southerner, and even Vernaff threw down an amused glance. He did not reply directly, but gave orders to the provost to have the two cared for. Something in his contemptuous tone and manner made the girl flush at the indignity.

As the young officer rode off, Bryant said to the colonel: "I hardly know what to do with these people; I've got five hundred now in the bull-pen, and I guess some of them are pretty rough. I can't very well spare a special detail, and besides, my own lambs ain't saints, and I don't want to take the responsibility of a female Sunday-school on my shoulders; so it is not a very nice place for a woman. Don't you think if I should send them some rations and let them look out for themselves here in the woods, it would be just as well? Then if there should be any trouble, it would be their own fault and not ours."

"But," responded Vernaff, "the woods are full of stragglers, broken men of both armies. No, we must take care of them in some way. If you think best, you may send them up to headquarters. I suppose they will be safe enough under our guard, and General Brown can shoulder the responsibility. But don't pick up any more women, if you please. Camp is no place for them."

Vernaff, who was just completing his studies when the war came, had left women out of his consideration, and now the idea of having a girl on his hands was disagreeable to contemplate. He tried to forget her, but somehow he could not bring himself to that state of feeling; the refugees were to be in some sort his guests - they must be fed and given shelter. This, at least, he could attend to, and to-morrow some arrangement might be made for forwarding them to their destination.

The chief of staff made a report to his commanding officer on his return, who was amused at the narration of the old man's peculiarities, laughing off the whole affair as a jest. "They are your friends, colonel," he said; "I wash my hands of all responsibility. Do with them as you please."

"But you will see the man?"

"Not to-night, I guess. Give him some supper to cool off his blood, and, if I feel like it, I'll talk with him to-morrow. But where do you propose to stow them? If Bryant's guards are a little wild, what do you think of the joyous reprobates you have picked out for headquarters?"

"If you have no objections, I will give up my rooms to them," answered Vernaff. "Very well," said the general.

The general and his staff were lodged in an old plantation house, the commander and his chief of staff taking the upper story for their own quarters, each occupying the suite on each side of the wide hall. The lower floor was devoted to the remainder of the staff, while tents and shelters ranged around the yard served for the guard and the band. Vernaff and the young aide-de-camp, who was his mess-mate, gave up their rooms, arranging the front one with what comforts they could find, and Vernaff ordered the best supper the place afforded for the entertainment of his guests.

In an hour the wagon came. The night had fallen, but the lanterns on the piazza gave light enough to show the passengers as they stepped from the rude vehicle. The old man walked across the veranda as solemnly as Jugurtha marching to the Mamertine. He cast a haughty look of recognition at Vernaff, but did not vouchsafe a word. "You will go upstairs with this gentleman," said the colonel, indicating the aide-de-camp. "The lady will take the front room. There is a door between the two."

The girl, her head still covered by the dark shawl, hesitated a moment, then said pleasantly:

"We thank you very much for your politeness: yes, you are very kind." She paused, drew a long sigh of relief, and continued: "I never thought I should be so glad to see

a Federal-but it is much better than the dark."

The young lieutenant showed the father and daughter to their rooms, while Vernaff directed the servants to carry their goods and chattels after them. In a few moments the aide returned, saying that the lady wished to speak with the chief, and in obedience the colonel presented himself at her door, which she opened at his knock. She had removed the dingy shawl, and her hair, long and thick, hung in careless coils about her neck and face. Her whole expression was changed by this flood of brown and golden red: thin and pale as she was, the outlines of her features were not so angular, nor her profile so sharp as it had appeared. It was a striking facenot very pretty, and maybe a little harsh, but one capable of infinite variety; a face that would become more attractive as one grew better acquainted with its charm. But now there was a deprecatory trembling of her lips, though an amused smile sparkled in her eyes. With a quick gesture she began:

"I want to be a model prisoner, and how can I obey you if you don't send me some soap and hot water?" She paused a moment; then, looking frankly into his eyes, continued: "I would n't trouble you so much,-but, oh! I am so uncomfortable, and I could n't make up my mind to speak to the other officer. You won't think me unreasonable, will you?"

"I shall be extremely happy to supply all your wants," answered Vernaff stiffly. He wanted to say something pleasant, and to relieve the girl from her evident embarrassment; but under his calm demeanor he was the more embarrassed of the two, and could only articulate this frigid sentence. But he avenged himself on his awkwardness by sending the whole of his dressing-service- and it was a very elegant one- -to the young lady's chamber. For now it was slowly dawning upon him that she was a lady. They should be made to understand that the officers of the United States could be kind when occasion called for kindness.

It was the custom of the division that the band should play before the general headquarters every pleasant evening, and a couple of hours after the arrival of the refugees the music burst out with a sudden crash. Vernaff was smoking his pipe on the lower piazza when the concert began. He knew that his prisoners if so they were to be consideredcould hear perfectly well from their apartments, and that it would be a work of supererogation to inform them that the band was playing; yet, after some hesitation, he ascended the stairs and knocked at the old man's door. It was opened by Miss Algier, who,

candle in hand, made way for him to pass. The change in her appearance was startling. Her rich hair was carefully brushed and coiled in a graceful knot; her face, too thin and careworn for beauty, was refined and full of intelligence. She had changed her dress, and though poor in material, it was clean and skillfully fitted to her person, and the hand that held the candle was the hand of a person with a grandmother.

Vernaff looked at her with astonishment. Except for her eyes he would not have known her, they were sparkling with excitement from the coffee, and their redness had been washed away, but they were the same great brown eyes that had looked out from under the shawl when he encountered her in the wood.

"If you would like," began the colonel, "you may go on the upper piazza to hear the music."

The old man answered, from the cot where he was seated: "I had hoped that my cell would be free from intrusion. No, sir; if it is permitted, I will remain in my confinement."

"As you please," said Vernaff, changing color at this rebuff. But the words were hardly uttered when the lady interrupted: "Oh! I shall be very glad to go. Please wait a moment." And without consulting her father, she darted into her own room, and returned with a shawl hanging over her arm. "Good-night, papa," she said, throwing her arm around his neck and kissing him on the forehead. "Don't keep awake for me; I shall not be gone long. Leave the door between our rooms half open, so that we can hear each other in the night "; and she came into the dusky hall, closing the door behind her.

When she was alone with the chief, she said demurely: "Am I to be shot at sunrise?" "No; why?" he asked.

"Oh, I did not know. From your tone I thought you might mean," and here she tried to imitate his voice," the condemned are now permitted to take the air for a few moments, before being led to execution. Now I feel relieved."

"You are in no sense a prisoner," he answered gravely.

By this time they had come to the piazza, where it was light enough to distinguish faces, the great fire in the yard throwing a red glare over the scene.

The girl looked up at her companion with amused astonishment; she could not understand why he should take her badinage so seriously. But seeming to reason that it must be the way with all "Yankees," her mouth hardened into a faint ironical smile, and following his example, she sedately said: "But I do

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Oh, I have read that in jail they allow, with other things, one chair for their convicts; and I think I should like to sit down." Vernaff brought a chair for the lady and a blanket for himself. When she was seated, he threw the latter at her feet, but at a respectful distance, and in camp fashion cast himself down upon it.

"How in the world did you get lost in these woods?" he asked, in a pause of the music.

She told how they had left Richmond on the Sunday afternoon of the evacuation; how, there being no railroad available, her father had procured the team, and how they had intended to find their way back to their home, across the mountains; and that when they arrived at this halting-place, their draught animals had been stolen, and they could go no farther. Their provisions were exhausted; their money, being in Confederate currency, was worthless; and altogether their condition was desperate. Then the advance of the Union army came in sight. "I knew," she said," that you Yankees were cannibals, but I thought father was too old and I too thin to serve. So, being hungry and perfectly miserable, we surrendered; and on the whole," she concluded, "I don't know but I rather like being a prisoner; it relieves one of all responsibility, though of course it would depend on who your jailer might be."

"So you consider all Yankees cannibals?" asked Vernaff.

"Certainly; there can be no doubt about that. We Southrons live entirely upon fire and blazes, and you all upon your fellow-creatures. But," checking herself, "I do not include you with the rest. You might almost pass for a rebel. That is the highest compliment I can pay any one."

"Thank you," he said, flattered by her evident desire to please, and too unaccustomed to women's ways to suspect that she was playing with his vanity for her own amusement.

When again the band was silent, the girl drew a long breath of quiet satisfaction. She looked at her companion, and speaking lazily, said: "Yes, I think I like being a prisoner. I feel very contented."

"I'm sure," he responded, "I like being a jailer; at least, if I am to have you for my charge."

"That sounded very pretty," she said, with out changing the tone of her voice. "But yes, it would make a difference who might be your keeper. Your friend Captain Bryant, for instance, would have been very attentive and

"Then you are satisfied with your stern jailer?" he asked.

"Oh, I suppose I must make the best of a bad bargain; and again, I am dependent on you for my breakfast, so must make friends of my enemies. Don't you think a little deception is justifiable?"

The conversation drifted on in this way until, the band long retired, the moon rose high above the pines. Then at length the girl arose to go in, and Vernaff sprang to his feet.

66

Good-night," she said, holding out her hand. "Again let me thank you for all your kindness, and for a very pleasant evening."

Now, among the people with whom Vernaff had been educated, the old custom of shaking hands has fallen somewhat into disuse. Perhaps a light touch of the fingers might be allowed when meeting after a long separation, or a gentle pressure when taking farewell; but the clasping of hands on every possible occasion, as is the fashion in the South, was a surprise to him. Of course he took the hand which was extended to him; but then he found that he did not know what to do with it. It was an honest, firm hand, warm and pleasant to hold, and he did not care to drop it; so, not knowing what else to do, he raised it to his lips and kissed its smooth surface.

It was the young lady's turn to be astonished. With eyes full of half-covert indignation, she examined him from head to feet; then seeing that no ill meaning was attached to his motion, she withdrew her hand, and, repeating her farewell, entered her apartment. Once in her room, she carefully washed away the innocent kiss, rubbing the spot until it burned red.

In the morning Vernaff was grave and distant. He had sent a handful of flowers at breakfast-time, and when they met in Algier's room she thanked him for the politeness with pleasant effusion.

"You are very welcome," he replied solemnly; and then gravely made arrangements with her father concerning their journey home. He gave the old man a safe conduct through the lines of the army, furnished provisions, and even supplied a pair of condemned government mules for draught. They were to leave at once, and before dark travel beyond danger from stragglers.

The girl sat watching while he was talking to her father. The mastery which he seemed to have over everything at first irritated her nerves, but presently she succumbed to his strong personality. The old man, haughtily accepting the proffered assistance, asked: " Are

these things furnished by your Federal Government?"

“I am not authorized to supply you from the Government, so I have taken the liberty of doing what I thought best, on my own account," replied Vernaff.

"I prefer that it should be so," said Algier, with an assumption of great dignity. "I will endeavor to compensate you at the earliest time possible. May I ask the amount of your expenditures, and the address to which I may remit the sum of this indebtedness, with interest ? "

"I have not the least idea what it will cost," answered the colonel. "It is nothing. I hoped that Miss Algier and you would use what I could supply, and say no more about it."

Vernaff looked at the daughter, and saw that she was pained at the manner her father had chosen to take, flushing up under his gaze, but not interrupting the conversation; so, to end the matter, he wrote the address of his New England home.

"Is there anything further ?" asked Algier, when the writing was finished. "If not, I will bid you a very good morning"; and the old man rose, making a stiff bow of dismissal. Vernaff also rose, returning the bow, and saying under his breath, "Dhis impudence!" took his departure. But Miss Algier followed him to the door and into the hall. She was flushed and trembling, and there was an angry look in her eyes which showed how indignant she was at her father's ungracious conduct. She spoke rapidly and with forced enunciation.

"My father is worn out by fatigue and disappointment. He does not mean to be rude, and I know he will appreciate your kindness when he is himself again; please forgive him. And me! I thank you more than words can say." She held out her hand. "I will never forget your goodness to us poor unfortunates."

II.

Six months after this, Colonel Vernaff was ordered to Esperanza, Álabama, as agent of the Freedmen's Bureau. The position was not of his seeking, nor quite to his liking, but he was made to feel that his duty called him to take the place. Some one with authority must be present to prevent friction, or the new relation of races would cause a social conflagration.

So far as the limits of his district extended the agent was supreme. Law was under his feet and the whole army of the country stood ready to support him. His accountability was practically so slight that he was virtually irresponsible. Public opinion was so strongly antagonistic to these agents that any attempt at conciliation was folly.

When Vernaff was established at Esperanza, he found himself entirely alone in a hostile country; he endeavored to perform the duties of his office with impartial justice.

The feeling that he was on a battle-field, and must not desert, alone prevented him from throwing up his commission. His sympathy went out towards the poverty-stricken people around him, and in every way in his powerand there were many — he endeavored to alleviate their suffering. Knowing that all the whites hated his office, and feeling that this animosity extended to his person, he did not slacken his hand in helping, but rather increased his kindness, feeling a savage sort of satisfaction in heaping benefits on the most rancorous of his enemies. The negroes felt an awful reverence for their sad-visaged protector, and the whites grew to consider him as a passionless but sternly just fanatic. No tale of trouble came to his ears which he did not, so far as he might, relieve; but no one ever heard a sympathetic word from his lips.

Vernaff remembered that Miss Algier had mentioned Esperanza as the end of her journey, but he had been three months in the town without any recognition either from the young lady or her father. He had discovered that their residence was a few miles outside the town proper, and that, like most of their neighbors, they were reduced to abject poverty, with only the naked lands from which to derive subsistence. The girl's face and manner were still fresh in his memory; it seemed in character that she should have given him some recognition, some payment of thanks, for his kindness in her hour of need. But now there was no sign from her that she had ever heard his name.

One day he received, for his approval, a copy of a contract which differed from others. In this bargain the proprietor of the lands had bound himself even more strictly than in the common form, but had expressly left the negroes untied in every respect. Vernaff did not notice the signature attached to the paper, but turned with some interest to the note which accompanied it. In this the land-owner stated that he desired fully to try the effects of the new liberty on his late slaves; that he was willing to run the risk to himself of any failure in his project. "I wish," he wrote, "to put the hands under the protection of the United States Government; I purpose to protect myself solely by doing justice. I am not very sanguine of success, but wish to find some fair modus vivendi under the new régime." This note and the contract were signed by James Algier, who also appointed a time when he would call at the office and acknowledge the execution of the paper before the agent. The

note was addressed, "Agent Freedmen's Bureau," without naming the officer.

One day General Algier came to the Bureau. The room was filled with people awaiting their turns to transact business, but by tacit consent they made way for the old man,for he, by inheritance and by force of character, was the first man in the county, and the feeling of subservience to representative men was still alive in this community. As he passed through the crowd, greeting every one with loud condescension, Vernaff recognized his voice, and his heart stirred with bitterness when he remembered the ungraciousness of his visitor. But this feeling was changed into astonishment at the effusive manner with which the old man accosted him. The instant their eyes met, a pleasant glow came to the face of the Southerner, and advancing with outstretched hand, he exclaimed: "Truly, this is an unexpected pleasure; I had no idea that in the Bureau officer I should find the gallant gentleman to whom I am so much indebted both for material and spiritual comfort. Sir, I welcome you among us. We are poor and disconsolate; but we still know how to appreciate kindness. I know that I was forgetful of the laws of politeness when last we met. But now, sir, if you will forgive the irritation of a starving man, bitter and sore from defeat, and who has since regretted his conduct sincerely, I will try and pardon you for not letting me know that you were in my vicinity."

General Algier concluded his business, and afterwards sat with Vernaff in the agent's private apartment. He said that he had made his way home safely and without adventures worth narration; that he was ruined in pocket, and at first bankrupt in hope. "I am an elderly man, sir, and it was hard to accept, or even to understand, the new conditions of social polity; but in a little while Claudine and I looked the matter over, and saw that it was necessary for some one occupying a prominent position to set an example. Sir, I went to work in the fields: yes, sir, with my own hands and your mules. I deserve no credit, sir; I ask for none. The consciousness that I am putting a light in the path of my unfortunate countrymen is satisfaction enough for me. I said I was bankrupt in hope: no, sir; that divine feeling springs eternal in the human breast. The South must be restored by industry. I intend to do my part, and with God Almighty's blessing I will succeed."

"And Miss Algier, may I inquire after her?" said Vernaff.

"She, sir," responded the general," is teach ing music and French to the descendants of Jews and army contractors,-they are the only people here who can afford to pay for

the education of their children. I did not wish that she should engage in a money-making occupation, but she insisted, and I am proud of it, sir. She will be pleased to see you, sir, and add her thanks to mine for your great consideration, both to our wants and, what is more, to our feelings. For though we are now very poor,- downtrodden, sir,- yet we remember all your kindness in our time of trouble. My daughter comes to town twice a week — Tuesdays and Fridays-to perform the duties she has taken upon herself, but we shall be at home at all other times; and you will be more than welcome to our best, poor as it is. Will you not come next Saturday and spend Sunday? There is preaching in the neighborhood which you can attend: for lack of a better minister, I sometimes ascend the sacred desk myself. Our whole social system is overthrown, and one must make himself a rallyingpoint for all the better elements of the community."

III.

VERNAFF had no difficulty in finding his way when, on Saturday, he rode out of the dirty little town. Every one knew the road to General Algier's plantation; so as the dusk fell on the short winter afternoon, he dismounted at the door of his expectant host.

The house was of the ordinary plantation type,-large, white, with double piazzas, standing high from the ground; and in the yard was a collection of negro-cabins and stables. Algier met his guest at the foot of the long steps which led to the front door, and gave him a cordial welcome. Now, in his own house, though the host was somewhat overpowering in his attentions, his loud politeness accorded not unpleasantly with the spacious rooms and wide halls of his residence.

The interior of the mansion was very bare; it seemed that it had been sacked during the war, and there had been no refurnishing. Yet the room into which the visitor was shown was comfortable enough, though there was an incongruity about its appointments which gave to Vernaff the feeling that Miss Algier had plundered her own apartments to render his more attractive. Pleasantest of all, there was no attempt at shabby gentility. Indeed, throughout this visit the guest felt, that however poor the entertainment, it was honest and without pretense. No effort was made to conceal the actual poverty, nor, on the other hand, was there any parade of ruined fortunes-never once was the ante-bellum grandeur mentioned either by Algier or his daughter. They gave their best to their guest, but made no embarrassing apology. The one thing which struck the young officer as extravagant was the number of useless ne