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 night, the council of good men has been broken up and each has returned to his own quarters. The flute has whispered its last lament to the deepening night. The violin is silent and the dancers have dispersed. Enamored youths have whispered a tender "good night" in the ear of blushing maidens, or stolen a kiss from the lips of some future bride; for Cupid, here as elsewhere, has been busy bringing together congenial hearts, and among these simple people, he alone is consulted in forming the marriage tie. Even the Doctor and the pilot have finished their confidential interview and have separated for the night. All is hushed and repose from the fatigues of the day, save the vigilant guard, and the wakeful leader who still has cares upon his mind that forbid sleep.

He hears the ten o'clock relief taking post, and the "all well" report of the returned guard; the night deepens, yet he seeks not the needed repose. At length a sentinel hurries to him with the welcome report that a party is approaching, as yet too far away for its character to be determined, and he instantly hurries out in the direction seen.

This he does both from inclination and duty, for, in times past, the camp has been unnecessarily alarmed by timid or inexperienced sentinels, causing much confusion and fright amongst women and children, and it had been made a