others did not, and when he released the hand he said:

"Take good care of yourself, Mr. Shepard. As I see it, the people of
Charleston are not taking to you, and we do not know what is going to
happen."

"Both statements are true," said Shepard with a laugh as he vanished
down the hail. Nothing yet had been able to disturb his poise.

Harry went into his own room, and, throwing open his front window to let
in fresh air, he heard the hum of voices. He looked down into a piazza
and he saw two figures there, a man and a woman. They were Colonel
Talbot and Madame Delaunay. He closed the blind promptly, feeling that
unconsciously he had touched upon something hallowed, the thread of
an old romance, a thread which, though slender, was nevertheless yet
strong. Nor did he doubt that the suggestion of Colonel Leonidas Talbot
had caused the speedy withdrawal of Shepard.

Several more days passed. Harry found that he was taken into the city's
heart, and its spell was very strong upon him. He knew that much of his
welcome was due to the powerful influence of Colonel Leonidas Talbot and
to the warm friendship of Arthur St. Clair, who apparently was related
to everybody. A letter came from his father, to whom he had written at
once of his purpose, giving his approval, and sending him more money.
Colonel Kenton wrote that he would come South himself, but he was needed
in Kentucky, where a powerful faction was opposing their plans. He said
that Harry's cousin, Dick Mason, had joined the home guards, raised in
the interests of the old Union, and was drilling zealously.

The letter made the boy very thoughtful. The news about his cousin