The girl drew a long breath and started.  Now that she was in the crisis of the emergency a certain innate spirit and courage sustained her.  Knowing her cousin so well, she could assume his very gait and manner, while her arm, carried in a sling, perfected a disguise which only broad light would have rendered useless.  Her visit caused no surprise to the sergeant of the guard, on whom at first she kept her eyes.  He merely saluted and thought Lieutenant Whately was attentive to his duty.  Perkins was not surprised either, yet a little perplexed.  As it had been supposed and hoped, the thought rose instantly in his revengeful nature that the Confederate officer had some design on Scoville.  The latter watched the form recognized by the others as that of Whately with the closest scrutiny, and an immense throb of hope stirred his heart.  Could it be possible?

Miss Lou looked over the sleeping prisoners for a moment and then, as if satisfied, stepped quite near to Perkins, guarding meantime not to permit the rays of the lamp to fall on her face.  “Leave him to me,” she whispered, with a nod toward Scoville, and she put her finger to her lips.  She next touched Scoville on the shoulder and simply said, “Come.”

He rose as if reluctantly and followed.

Perkins did not suspect the ruse, the disguise was so good and Whately’s right to appear so unquestioned; but he felt defrauded in having no part in the vengeance which he supposed would be wreaked on Scoville.  After a moment or two of thought, he obeyed the impulse to follow, hoping to see what Whately intended to do, and if circumstances warranted, to be near to help.  “If Mad Whately’s high-strung notions lead ’im to fight a duel,” he thought, “en the Yank comes off best, I’ll settle my own score.  Whately was ter’ble stirred up ‘bout the Yank’s talkin’ ter his cousin, en would like ter kill ’im, but his officer-notions won’t let ’im kill the blue-coated cuss ez I would.  Ef thar’s ter be a fight, I won’t be fur off,” and he stole after the two figures disappearing in the gloom.

But Nemesis was on his steps.  Chunk had shaken with silent laughter as he saw that their scheme was working well, but he never took his eyes from Perkins.  Crouching, crawling, he closed on the overseer’s track, and when the man passed into the garden, the negro followed.

As Scoville accompanied Miss Lou, he soon ventured to breathe her name in a tentative way.  “Hush!” she whispered.  Then his heart beat thick with overpowering emotions of gratitude, admiration and love.  Entering the garden, she led the way quickly toward Aun’ Jinkey’s cabin, and at a point where the shrubbery was thickest about the path, turned suddenly, put her finger on her lips, and breathed, “Listen.”

They distinctly heard steps following and drew back into the bushes.  Then came the thud of a blow and the heavy fall of a man.  The blow was so severe that not even a groan followed, and for a moment all was still.  Then Chunk, like a shadow, glided forward and would have passed had not Miss Lou whispered his name.