The guerrillas, with their unwilling partners, followed. And even the wretched youth of the picnic party were compelled to join the orgies.
And a reel commenced, wild as the dance of witches in Kirk Alloway, where old Nick was piper.
“The mirth and fun grew fast and furious!
The piper loud and louder blew!
The dancers fast and faster flew!
They reeled, they set, they crossed, they”——
Suddenly, in the midst of these orgies, a cheer was heard from the men in the back ground. And an officer, mounted, and attended by his staff, galloped up in the midst of the area.
“My traitor!” exclaimed Elfie, under her breath, as she recognized Albert Goldsborough.
A very handsome man was this guerrilla chief—this licensed brigand, who bore a colonel’s commission. He was taller and stouter than when first presented to the reader; his hair and beard were of a darker and richer auburn; his face and figure more martial and dignified than heretofore.
So Elfie thought as she covertly watched him.