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<h2 id="IX">CHAPTER IX. I AM IN FAVOR.</h2></div> We sat again in the great drawing-room at Fort Defiance. The military appearance of the apartment was unchanged. The portraits of the Confederate generals looked from wall to wall at each other. The bright sun, reflected from the snow outside, gleamed on the burnished arms. At the head of the table sat the colonel, in his most brilliant uniform, stiff and precise as a judge should be. Dr. Ambrose at the side of the table took their statements in writing, and six men in Confederate gray, Crothers at their head, listened attentively to the evidence. Thus my second trial on the charge[216] of being a Yankee spy, appealed on a writ of error from the first, drew to its end. Miss Hetherill sat beside the window. Streaks of dim gold showed in her dark hair where the winter sunshine fell across it. When her eyes met mine a bit of a smile appeared in them, and the delicate color in her cheeks deepened. The last evidence was given, and the colonel directed the military jury to retire to the next room and consider a verdict. When they had gone we waited in silence. The snow-birds hopped about outside. One of them perched on the window-sill and stared at us through the glass for a moment. Then he flew away. The snow on the knife-edge of the distant mountain ridges shone like gold under the sun. The jury returned, Crothers at their head. "What is your verdict, gentlemen?" asked the colonel. [217] "Not guilty," replied Crothers. "It is our unanimous decision." "I am glad of it," said the colonel. "It is my opinion too. Mr. West, my congratulations and sympathy as from one honest enemy to another." He reached over and gave my hand a strong and friendly grasp. "Remember," he said, "that until we return you to your own country you are our guest in the fullest sense of the word." Dr. Ambrose and Crothers also shook my hand, and everybody seemed to be glad that we had arrived at the truth at last. By and by, only Grace and I were left in the room. We stood by the great window; the brilliant sunlight reflected from the snow threw a broad band of gold across the floor. Her face, for the first time since I knew her, seemed peaceful and content. The snow-birds hopped from one little white mound to another, like their breth[218]ren of the summer passing from flower to flower. Three or four flew to the brave little brass cannon which menaced the passage of the drawbridge, and perched upon its barrel. "They don't seem to fear the dogs of war," I said. "They need not," said Grace. "Our cannon will never be used again; the last salute cracked the barrel all the way." "Do you forgive me," I asked, asking the old question, "for bringing so much trouble upon Fort Defiance?" "There is nothing to forgive," she said, earnestly. "It was no fault of yours." I became brave. "Then you are not sorry I came?" "No." I took her hands in mine. "You are sorry I am going?" "Yes." I kissed her for the second time in my life. [219] The day had come for me to leave Fort Defiance. The great snow had gone. The whole Confederate army, its commander at its head, accompanied me as a guard of honor to the end of the valley. Crothers would guide me across the mountains. When the time came for the others to turn back, Colonel Hetherill shook my hand again. "You are a gallant and honest enemy," he said, paying me the highest compliment he knew. Grace walked a little farther. Then I took both her hands in mine and kissed her for the third but not the last time in my life. The trumpet sounded the recall from the walls of Fort Defiance. "I will come again," I said. "But not as an enemy." "Never as an enemy." THE END. <hr class="chap" /> [221] <h2>The Sign of the Cross.</h2></div> BY WILSON BARRETT. With Frontispiece. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. "Mr. Barrett has treated his subject with reverence and dignity. The brutal, licentious Nero and his ribald drunken satellites make an admirable foil to the spiritual Mercia and the other followers of Christ; and the steadfastness of these last are dominating notes."—Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, PHILADELPHIA. <hr class="chap" /> [222] "The Most Notable New Book of the Hour." —Philadelphia Record. THE NEW GREAT LITERARY SUCCESS. <h2>The Taming of the Jungle.</h2></div> BY DR. C. W. DOYLE. 12mo. Cloth, ornamental, $1.00. "'The Taming of the Jungle' is one of the most striking books of Indian life that we have seen since Mr. Kipling produced his 'Plain Tales from the Hills,' and it does not suffer by comparison with the work that made Mr. Kipling famous. Indeed, if Dr. Doyle had been first in the field we venture to think that Mr. Kipling's work would have been adjudged less good than this later effort."—New York Literature. J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, PHILADELPHIA. <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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