One night in autumn a few men were gathered about a fire on the slope of a hill. They belonged to a small detachment of Confederate forces and were awaiting orders to march. Their gray uniforms were worn beyond the point of shabbiness. One of the men was heating something in a tin cup over the embers. Two were lying at full length a little distance away, while a fourth was trying to decipher a letter and had drawn close to the light. He had unfastened his collar and a good bit of his flannel shirt front. "What's that you got around your neck, Ned?" asked one of the men lying in the obscurity. Ned-or Edmond--mechanically fastened another button of his shirt and did not reply. He went on reading his letter. "Is it your sweet heart's picture?"