Perhaps he would give me some clue to my new identity, which would enable me to carry out the masquerade.
"Your face is familiar," I ventured, "but--" "Oh, no excuses," he broke in cordially.

"I was a guest at your mess one night when we were garrisoning Memphis.

I am Le Gaire, of the Third Louisiana.

I sang you fellows some French songs, you may remember." "Oh, yes!" and my face visibly brightened, as I grasped his fingers, wondering who the devil I might be, yet exceedingly overjoyed at this sudden change of fortune.

"We had a gay night of it.