"Gaylord? Let me see. There was a rebel scout of that name brought before me just as I left, and I ordered him kept in the guard-house until my return."
"Hudson Gaylord?"
"That was it, as sure as you live. Hudson Gaylord! A fine-looking fellow, but caught in a pretty bad trap, I am thinking."
"Pearl, he is this lady's husband. You must do all you can for him. Promise me this."
"Why? I see no reason for interfering with justice because you have in your possession a photograph of his wife. But go on."
"This, Pearl, is the picture of the young lady in whom I was so much interested." She held it up before him.
He started back in surprise. "Who is she?" he gasped. "I should say it was yours, dress and all, just as I saw you first in this very house. Who is she?"
"Look at that brow and the hauteur of the compressed lips. They are not mine."
"But the eyes and the queenly bearing, the slender form and white dress—. Taken as a whole, there could scarcely be a better representation of yourself when fourteen."
"Believe me, my husband, for what I am going to tell you is true. That picture is our child!"