I glanced at the various rooms up stairs, but nothing seemed exactly suitable for our purpose, and, finally, taking a trooper along to hold a light, explored the basement with better results.  Here I found a considerable cellar, divided into two sections, the floor of stone slabs, and the walls well bricked.  Iron bars, firmly set, protected the small windows, and altogether the place appeared favorable for our purpose.  To be sure, desperate prisoners could not be confined in such quarters for any length of time, but it would answer temporarily, providing we left a guard within.  Satisfied as to this, after fixing up a stout bar across the door, I returned to the first floor, and gave orders to have the men taken below.  We could not differentiate between officers and privates, but robbed the rooms up stairs of bed-clothing, and thus made them as comfortable as possible.  Bell and the clergy-man made voluble protests, but yielded to the inevitable, being persuaded by the revolvers of the guards to accompany the others.  So far as arms went we were now well supplied, having added to our original equipment the officers’ pistols, and the carbines of the men captured in the stable.  This matter settled I turned to the consideration of the case of the two men remaining in the front parlor.

Here was a more serious problem, for I could not herd Major Hardy with those fellows below, nor was I willing to humiliate Le Gaire by any such treatment.  Not that I thought him too good to associate with these others, but Billie must not think I was actuated by any feelings of revenge.  I talked the situation over with the sergeant, who proved a hard-headed, practical man, and we decided upon an upstairs room, over the kitchen, which had only one small window, through which a man of ordinary size could hardly crawl.  I went up to examine this more carefully, and to nail down the window frame.  As I came out into the hall again, rather dreading the impending interview in the parlor, I saw her coming alone up the broad stairway.  She did not see me until her foot was upon the last step, and then she stopped, suddenly, one hand gripping the rail, her cheeks burning.  One glance into her eyes caused me to nerve myself for an unpleasant session.

“I have been waiting for you to return,” she said very coldly, yet with a slight falter in the voice, “and when I spoke to the sergeant, he said you were up here.”

I bowed, hat in hand, and waited, unwilling to speak until I knew something of her purpose.

“Lieutenant Galesworth, what is the meaning of all this?  What do you propose doing with my father and Captain Le Gaire?”

“Did they send you to me to find out?”

“No; father merely supposed I was going to my own room after something I needed.”

“And Le Gaire?” I insisted.

She looked at me frankly, her eyes utterly fearless.

“We have scarcely spoken, and—­and he certainly would never have advised my coming to you.  I came of my own volition, because—­well, because you claimed this was all a service to me.  I—­I do not understand what you meant, or—­or why you hold us prisoners.”