Bess to kiss his mother, who stood waiting for him at her gate, and there was Colonel Hunt, gay, debonair, jesting, shaking hands right and left, and crowding the streets, Morgan’s Men—­the proudest blood in the land, every gallant trooper getting his welcome from the lips and arms of mother, sister, sweetheart, or cousin of farthest degree.  But where was Dan?  She had heard nothing of him since the night he had escaped capture, and while she looked right and left for him to dash toward her and swing from his horse, she heard her name called, and turning she saw Richard Hunt at the wheel of her phaeton.  He waved his hand toward the happy reunions going on around them.

“The enforced brotherhood, Miss Margaret,” he said, his eyes flashing, “I belong to that, you know.”

For once the subtle Colonel made a mistake.  Perhaps the girl in her trembling happiness and under the excitement of the moment might have welcomed him, as she was waiting to welcome Dan, but she drew back now.

“Oh! no, Colonel—­not on that ground.”

Her eyes danced, she flushed curiously, as she held out her hand, and the Colonel’s brave heart quickened.  Straightway he began to wonder—­but a quick shadow in Margaret’s face checked him.

“But where’s Dan?  Where is Dan?” she repeated, impatiently.

Richard Hunt looked puzzled.  He had just joined his command and something must have gone wrong with Dan.  So he lied swiftly.

“Dan is out on a scout.  I don’t think he has got back yet.  I’ll find out.”

Margaret watched him ride to where Morgan stood with his mother in the midst of a joyous group of neighbors and friends, and, a moment later, the two officers came toward her on foot.

“Don’t worry, Miss Margaret,” said Morgan, with a smile.  “The Yankees have got Dan and have taken him away as prisoner—­but don’t worry, we’ll get him exchanged in a week.  I’ll give three brigadier-generals for him.”

Tears came to the girl’s eyes, but she smiled through them bravely.

“I must go back and tell mother,” she said, brokenly.  “I hoped—­”

“Don’t worry, little girl,” said Morgan again.  “I’ll have him if I have to capture the whole State of Ohio.”

Again Margaret smiled, but her heart was heavy, and Richard Hunt was unhappy.  He hung around her phaeton all the while she was in town.  He went home with her, cheering her on the way and telling her of the Confederate triumph that was at hand.  He comforted Mrs. Dean over Dan’s capture, and he rode back to town slowly, with his hands on his saddle-bow—­wondering again.  Perhaps Margaret had gotten over her feeling for that mountain boy—­that Yankee—­and there Richard Hunt checked his own thoughts, for that mountain boy, he had discovered, was a brave and chivalrous enemy, and to such, his own high chivalry gave salute always.

He was very thoughtful when he reached camp.  He had an unusual desire to be alone, and that night, he looked long at the stars, thinking of the girl whom he had known since her babyhood—­ knowing that he would never think of her except as a woman again.