Hearing nothing more of interest to her, Mara finally turned away to seek Captain Morland’s tent.
CHAPTER X.
THE WIZARD SCOUT.
As Mara came in sight of her brother’s tent she saw some one pacing slowly back and forth before its entrance.
Advancing boldly she drew nearer until he turned at the sound of her approach and pausing in his beat coolly faced her.
His long, flowing hair and beard was white with the frosts of many years.
His tall form, however, gave no indication of the weight of years that it bore.
His eyes, too, retained all the fire of youth. Ay, from out of their depths flashed at times the light which told plainly of the slumbering flame of insanity.
“I knew you would come here,” he said, calmly.
“But—I do not know you,” exclaimed Mara in alarm, glancing toward a group of soldiers just beyond.
“Nor need you marvel at that,” replied the stranger, lowly. “I know every man in the Confederate army, but no one knows me! Nor would they recognize me if they did. The tent is vacated now; come in.”