“I—­I almost believed the same thing,” she confessed, speaking swiftly.  “As I said, it did not seem exactly real from the first, yet I had to trust my own eyes, and I saw him almost as plainly as I see you two now.  Then he was gone; gone so quickly I could not conceive the possibility of it.  The whole affair appeared imaginary, a matter of nerves.  It was an hallucination; out of my own brain, it seemed, I had conjured up that crouching figure.  I had overheard your roll-call, and realized no trooper could have been there.  I even convinced myself that it was all a fantasy.  I was so certain of it that I stole out into the hall, and peered down the back stairs.  I was frightened, so frightened I shook from head to foot, but it was because my nerves were all unstrung.  I was sure by this time there had been no one there, and forced myself to investigate.  I saw nothing, heard nothing, and step by step advanced clear to the back window, and looked out.  Then, without the slightest warning, something was thrown over my head, and I was utterly helpless in the vice-like clutch of an arm.  I cannot explain how startled, how helpless I was.  It occurred so suddenly I could not even cry out, could scarcely struggle.  I was instantly stifled, and left weak as a child.  I know I did make an effort to break away, but the cloth was clutched closer about my face, and the assailant’s grip hurled me to the floor.  The horror was more intense because he never uttered a sound; because I was in the dark, my mind still dazed by conjecture, and—­and I fainted.”

The dramatic intensity with which she told this held us speechless.  Her hands were to her face, and I took them away, holding them tightly.

“Go on, Billie,” I urged gently.  “It was a man then, after all.”

“Yes, it was certainly a man, yet I did not really know it until he had carried me, unconscious, down the back stairs into the kitchen.  I came to myself then, but remained dazed, and only partially comprehended what occurred.  I could see nothing, as he had knotted the cloth about my head so tightly I could hardly breathe.  But I could judge something from sounds, and I knew he was a man, because he swore once.  I think he intended to leave me lying there, and himself escape through the back door.  I know he lifted the bar and looked out.  It was then he shut the door again quickly, and became profane.  Something he saw outside compelled a change of plan, for he came back quickly, dragged the table to one side, and opened the trap leading down into the cellar.  Whoever he was he evidently knew all about the house.  Then, he caught me up again, took me down the steps in his arms, and dropped me at the foot, while he ran back and shut the trap.  I was nearly smothered by this time, scarcely half conscious, and the man must have realized my condition, for, when he came back, he loosened the wrap about my face.  This enabled me to breathe again freely, but I was so weak I could not get up, and he was obliged to drag me across the cellar floor.  I struggled still to escape, and succeeded in getting the cloth lifted so I could see out a little with one eye, but the light was poor, and the man kept hidden behind where I couldn’t get even a glimpse of his face.”