He heard footsteps in the hail and a voice that seemed familiar.
He had left his door partly open, and, when he turned, he caught a
glimpse of a face that he knew. It was young Shepard, whom he and Major
Talbot had met in Nashville. Shepard saw Harry also, and saluted him
cheerfully.

"I've just arrived," he said, "and through letters from friends in
St. Louis, members of one of the old French families there, I've been
lucky enough to secure a room at Madame Delaunay's inn."

"Fortune has been with us both," said Harry, somewhat doubtfully,
but not knowing what else to say.

"It certainly has," said Shepard, with easy good humor. "I'll see you
again in the morning and we'll talk of what we've been through, both of
us."

He walked briskly on and Harry heard his firm step ringing on the floor.
The boy retired to his own room again and locked the door. He had liked
Shepard from the first. He had seemed to him frank and open and no
one could deny his right to come to Charleston if he pleased. And yet
Colonel Talbot, a man of a delicate and sensitive mind, which quickly
registered true impressions, had distrusted him. He had even given
Harry a vague warning, which he felt that he could not ignore. He made
up his mind that he would not see Shepard in the morning. He would make
it a point to rise so early that he could avoid him.

His conclusion formed, he slept soundly until the first sunlight poured
in at the window that he had left open. Then, remembering that he