THE man in the ravine stood stock still, and Somers stood stock still. Each had apparently discovered the other at the same moment, and each was disturbed by the same doubts in regard to the other. It was a dead lock, to all intents and purposes, for neither was willing to advance and betray himself to the other. Somers had his pistols; but a shot, if he was compelled to shoot the stranger, might call forth the fire of the pickets on both sides.

It was not a pleasant situation for either party; and they stood like black statues, each waiting for a movement on the part of the other. The only thing that Somers could do was to retire in the direction he had come; but this involved the failure of the enterprise in which he had engaged, and possibly endangered the result of the next day’s battle. He was not disposed to withdraw; for if the worst came, he could shoot his opponent, and lie down under the bank of the ravine to shelter himself from the fire of the pickets. He waited a reasonable time for the dark stranger to say or do something; but as he seemed to be endowed with the patience of Job, our scout decided to take the initiative himself.

“Friend or foe?” demanded Somers, in a low tone; for he was disposed to confine the conversation to themselves.

“Friend, of course,” replied the other.

“Which side do you belong to, friend?” asked Somers, deeming the answer rather indefinite.

“To the Union side, of course,” replied the stranger, with refreshing promptness.

There was no non-committal about him, as might have been expected, half way between the lines of the two armies, and Somers was pretty well satisfied that he was what he claimed to be.

“Where are you going?”

“That’s rather a delicate question, Captain Somers, my dear fellow,” responded the stranger. “You are evidently at your old tricks, captain.”

“Who are you?” demanded Somers, not a little surprised and disconcerted at being recognized in his present situation.

“Don’t you know me?” added the stranger, advancing cautiously towards the captain.

“I haven’t that pleasure.”

“Yes, you have; though it is rather dark here for a man to make out even his best friend. I am Major Riggleston.”

“Are you, indeed?” exclaimed Somers, taken all aback by the announcement.

He would rather have met Stonewall Jackson under the circumstances. He could not imagine what the major could possibly be doing in such a place at such an hour of the night, unless he was crawling into the rebel lines, to take a part with the foe in the expected battle. He was tempted to shoot him on the spot, and thus, while he removed an obstacle in his own path, rid the country of a traitor and a dangerous enemy; but Somers never had the nerve to do anything that looked like deliberate murder.

“Major Riggleston, you are a mystery to me,” said he.

“So I am to all who know me,” replied the major. “Come, captain, let us sit down and talk over the matter. If we speak low, the pickets will not hear us. You are a man after my own heart, and I desire to have you understand me better.”

“I think I understand you very well.”

“No, you don’t; you just now said I was a mystery to you,” chuckled the major.

“I mean that I understand your objects—that you are a traitor to your cause and country.”

“My dear captain, you never made a greater blunder in your life.”

“I don’t see it.”

“You shall see it, in the course of ten minutes, if you will hear me.”

“It is useless for me to hear you. I shall not believe a word you say, after what passed between us yesterday.”

“What was that?”

“Didn’t you deny all knowledge of the affair at the Hasbrouk house.”

“’Pon my word I did not.”

“You did not?”

“No.”

“You have the worst memory of any man in Maryland.”

“That may be.”

“Did you, when we met last evening—”

“We didn’t meet last evening,” interposed the major.

“You have a most astonishing memory. I denounced you as a traitor.”

“It wasn’t kind of you to do that,” laughed Riggleston.

“Perhaps not; but it was true. You didn’t know what I meant; you hadn’t the least knowledge of the affair at the Hasbrouk house?”

“Of course not, over there!”

The major took off his cap and scratched his head. The act seemed suddenly to vivify his memory.

“O, I do remember meeting you last night,” said he.

“Very good; I have some hope of you, at last. Now, can you recall the event to which I alluded?”

“Perfectly.”

“That you, in connection with Miss Hasbrouk, attempted to procure my capture by the rebels?”

“I acknowledge the soft impeachment; but the affair is susceptible of a different construction from that you put on it.”

“I think not.”

“Upon my word it is, my dear fellow. I intend to prove it, and I am sure you will agree with me.”

“First, will you explain to me how you happen to be in this ravine, at this hour of the night, and when we are on the eve of a great battle?” asked Somers.

“I could explain it to your undoubted satisfaction, my dear captain; but you must excuse me for the present.”

“I can’t excuse you; and we may as well fight it out now as at any other time. You are a rebel, and I am a Union man. In the words of Mr. Seward, there is an irrepressible conflict between us. You have caught me, and I have caught you. I don’t propose to shirk the responsibility of my position; but I suppose one of us must die, or be severely wounded, to insure the safety of the other.”

Somers cocked his pistol. He had already made up his mind in regard to the presence of Major Riggleston at this place. His theory was, that the fellow was a scout, like himself, if he was not a professional spy; that at the time they happened to meet, the major was passing over from the Union to the rebel lines, for the purpose of imparting to Stonewall Jackson, who was understood to be in command of the Confederate left wing, information in regard to the strength and position of General McClellan’s forces.

“For Heaven’s sake, Captain Somers, don’t fire upon me!” exclaimed the major, as he heard the click of the pistol.

There could be no doubt of the sincerity of the fellow in the use of these words. Somers judged, from what he had seen of him, that he was one of those persons who were born to creep, but by some blunder had walked upright, and thus deceived the world in regard to their true character. Though he called himself a fighting man, he was a cringing coward, as Somers had twice before had occasion to observe.

“I have no wish to shoot you, Major Riggleston. I would much rather be spared that pain,” said Somers. “You have crossed my path, and you interfere with my plans.”

“You are mistaken again. I propose to explain everything, and then we shall understand each other perfectly. You are a scout, and so am I. You are obtaining information; so am I. You are a true Union man; so am I.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Here is my pass; that will convince you.”

“I can’t see to read it.”

“I will light a match. It will not be seen in this hole.”

The major handed him a paper, and struck a match against the inside of his cap.

“Now read quick.”

Somers read: “The bearer, Major Riggleston, of the —nd Maryland Home Brigade, is a true and loyal man, and as such entitled to receive protection and assistance from all officers and soldiers of the United States.” The document was duly signed and countersigned by high and proper authority, and the date was within the current month and year. The captain was astonished beyond measure, for he had no doubt of the correctness of this safe-conduct. It knocked his little theory all to pieces, and he was forced, for the first time, to believe that he had misjudged the major.

“Where are you bound now?” asked he.

“Just where you are.”

“Do you carry this paper with you?”

“Always; my life would not be safe a moment without it.”

“I should say your life would not be safe with it, if it were discovered upon you within the rebel lines.”

“There is no danger on that score. I take good care of it. Are you satisfied, Captain Somers?”

“I am satisfied with the paper; but I think your employers do not expect you to entrap Union officers, as you attempted to do at the Hasbrouk house.”

“My dear fellow, I did not intend to do anything of the kind.”

“You were certainly a party to the transaction.”

“Apparently I was; really I was not. Now that you understand the first part of the story, I will explain the second. You know Miss Hasbrouk?”

“Certainly I know her.”

“She is a beautiful girl—isn’t she?”

“There can be no doubt on that point; but I suppose you will tell me next that she is not a rebel, and that she was working for the United States government when she got up that little conspiracy, and attempted to have me hung.”

“On the contrary, she is a rebel. Jeff Davis himself is not a more thorough-going rebel, and she was fully in earnest when she attempted to make you a prisoner.”

“But you assisted her.”

“Apparently only; if you had been handed over to the cavalry, as I supposed you would be, it would have been my privilege, as it would have been my duty, to get you out of the scrape, which I could very easily have done. Maud regards me as a rebel.”

Somers could not help thinking that she was more than half right, but he was prudent enough not to give voice to his thought on this subject.

“You helped her through with the whole thing.”

“Undoubtedly I did, but with the intention that you should not suffer. You are aware that she planned the scheme herself; I was dragged into it, and I could not resist without impairing her confidence in me.”

“You seem to value very highly the confidence of a rebel woman.”

“For the sake of my suffering country I do. Maud is a beautiful girl; you acknowledge that. Well, the rebel officers think so, too,” added the major, pausing as if to give his companion an opportunity to comment on this remarkable partiality; or perhaps to note the bearing of the fact on their intimate relations.

“They are gentlemen of taste,” was all the comment Somers deemed it necessary to make.

“Maud is an enterprising woman. She takes a deep interest in all army movements, and worms out of the rebel officers much valuable information, which I in turn worm out of her; for I need hardly tell you that the relations between Maud and myself are of the pleasantest character.”

“Lovers?” added Somers.

“Yes, if you please.”

“It seems to me that is using a very sacred relation for a very vicious purpose,” replied the captain, whose fine sentiment was not a little shocked at the thought of lovers mutually deceiving each other.

“We work for our country, Captain Somers.”

“Go on, major.”

“Don’t you understand it all now?”

“I think I do; at least, enough of it to comprehend your position.”

Somers, in spite of himself, was not entirely satisfied; certainly not with the character of the man, if he was with the genuineness of his mission.

“Which way were you going when I met you?” asked he.

“The same way that you were,” replied the major, with some hesitation. “If you please, we will go on together. You report to one general, and I to another; but the substance of our information must be the same. We will go on together, and return together.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I am entirely safe within the rebel lines. If we have passed the Yankee pickets, we have nothing more to fear.”

The Yankee pickets! This was not the form of expression usually adopted by loyal men; and it was the second time he had detected his interesting companion in using it. It seemed to be habitual with him; but perhaps it was because he had spent so much of his time within the rebel lines, pursuing the duties of his calling.

“I think we had better keep within the ravine.”

“Very well; but I have a rebel safe-conduct.”

“Would you let me see them both, if you please.”

“Certainly, if you desire it,” replied the major, but with evident reluctance.

He produced them both, with the remark that it was not necessary to read the true one again; but Somers wished it, and he yielded. The major lighted a match, and the captain read both the documents. As he finished the match went out, and they were in total darkness again.

“What’s that?” said Somers, suddenly springing to his feet, with the papers in his hand.

It was a shot from the pickets; but there had been one every ten minutes since they sat down.