it seemed as though my whole duty demanded that I should escape immediately, and bear this news to the nearest Confederate commander.  Nothing else, no other obligation appeared as important as this.  It was not that I wished to harm you, or to betray you to possible death or imprisonment, but it seemed to me all that was personal should be forgotten in duty to the cause of the South.  It—­it did hurt me, Lieutenant Galesworth,” her voice suddenly changing into a plea, “but I believed it to be right, to be what I should do.”

“I understand fully; we both respect your convictions.”

Miles nodded gravely, but said nothing, and the girl hurried on, yet with evident relief.

“I started back to my room with that intention—­your men were all at the front of the house; it would be easy to slip down the back stairs, leave by the kitchen door, and run for the stable.  I knew father would oppose my plan, and so I said nothing to him about it.  Indeed it all came to me in a flash, and, almost before I knew it I was back in my own room ready to act.  I passed out the side door into the next room, which would bring me nearer the back stairs, believing I would thus be less exposed to Major Hardy’s observation.  I glanced out first, and saw him beside the front window at the opposite end of the hall.  He was intent upon the battle, the noise of which was deafening.  The firing was so continuous and so near at hand—­the very house shaking—­that I almost lost my nerve.  Then I turned my head and looked the other way, and there, back in the shadows of the ell hallway, in almost exactly the same spot where I had seen him before, stood one of your soldiers.  He had his revolver out in his hand, and was crouching forward in such a way that his hat brim almost totally concealed his face, but I knew instinctively that he was the same man I saw last night.  And—­and he was watching father.”

Her voice broke, and she pressed her hands to her eyes, as though to blot out the memory, yet her hesitancy was but for an instant.

“I didn’t know what to do.  If I cried out, or made any alarm, I was afraid he would fire.  My father was standing unconsciously, his back toward him, unarmed.  I cannot tell you how frightened I was, for, somehow, the man did not seem real; I—­I felt as I have sometimes in dreams.  But I had to do something, something desperate.  There was an old gun standing back of the door—­just a relic, and unloaded.  Yet it occurred to me it might answer, might serve to frighten the fellow.  I slipped back, grasped it, and returned, but—­when I looked out again he was gone.”

She took a deep breath, and I heard Miles clinch and unclinch his hands.

“Maybe it was just a ghost, Miss, or a shadow,” he interrupted hoarsely, “for I swear to God there wasn’t none of our men up there—­you know that, Lieutenant.”

“We called the roll in the front hall not ten minutes before, anyhow,” I replied, still looking at Billie, “and I hardly see how any of them got away after that.”