While the clerk was wrapping the sheets I
stepped to the door. She drew her cape
closer around her, took the package and came
towards the door. I opened it. She passed
out on*to the sidewalk. I followed, closing
the door. When I reached the sidewalk she
was looking in the direction from whence she
had come. I said to her: “Will you allow
me the honor of escorting you?” With a grace
ful bow she laughingly replied, “Yes, if you
please.” Side by side we walked along. Not
knowing her name I felt awkward, embar
rassed. For fear of offending her, like a re
fined Northern gentleman would, by blurting
out, “Gal, what’s your name?” I thought,
and almost knew, she felt as awkward as I
did. I had a card in my vest pocket. To
_ relieve her I gave her the card, on which was
my full name. She read it, smiled, and wrote
her name on the back of the card, then
handed it back to me. I took it, and saw
only the four letters which spelled “Boyd ”
I had read the name “Bell Boyd,” the Con
federate scout and spy, and heard her name
spoken frequently in our army; even received
orders relating to her. I said: “The full
name; is it Jane, Sally, Polly, Mary, or Josie?
Which is it?” She looked at me very inquis
itively, and quietly said: “Bell.” It was
now my time. I was astonished, and said:
“Who, Bell Boyd? The scout and spy?” She
nodded “Yes,” and called my attention to
a large plate glass show window in a dry
goods store. She made some comments about
things she saw in the window.
We passed on, she keeping step with me.
