Then Major Mim, with his face fiery from exertion and excitement, rushed in.
“You are free, Madam!” he exclaimed, lifting his cap to Britomarte, but failing to recognize her.
“Don’t you know me”—she hesitated a moment to glance at his straps and ascertain his precise rank—“Major Mim? Don’t you know me?”
“Heaven and earth! It is Miss Conyers!” exclaimed little Mim, in consternation.
“Or what remains of her,” added Britomarte, with a wan smile.
“In the name of Providence, how came you here?” demanded Mim.
“I was taken as a suspected spy. The story is too long to tell you now, Major. But tell me news of our army. I am dying, yes, dying to hear.”
“We have got Richmond,” said Mim.
“I see that. But Colonel Rosenthal?”
“He is with General Grant.”