his left. But Dick, who was learning to be very wary, dodged it and came
back so swiftly that Woodville was caught and beaten to his knees.

But the son of the house of Bellevue was still so agile that he was able
to recover his feet and spring away. Dick saw, however, that he was
panting heavily. The blow had taken a considerable part of his remaining
strength. He also saw that his antagonist was regarding him with a
curious eye.

"You fight well, Yank," said Woodville, "although I ought not to call you
Yank, but rather a traitor, as you're a Kentuckian. Still, I've put my
marks on you. You're bleeding a lot and you'd be a sight if it weren't
for this cleansing rain."

"I've been putting the map of Kentucky on your own face. You don't look
as much like Mississippi as you did. You'll take notice too that you
didn't burn the house. If you'll glance up the side of this ravine
you'll see just a little dying smoke. Eight hundred soldiers put it out
in short order."

Woodville's face flushed, and his eyes for the first time since the
beginning of the encounter shone with an angry gleam. But the wrathful
fire quickly died.

"On the whole, I'm not sorry," he said. "It was an impulse that made me
do it. Our army will come and drive you away, and our house will be our
own again."

"That's putting it fairly. What's the use of burning such a fine place
as Bellevue? Still, we want you. Our colonel has many questions to ask