A REBEL STILL
her cause, she was willing to sacrifice me, if necessary. This knowledge brought me to myself with a shock. I might love her, as I already confessed I did, yet so hopeless a love should not be permitted to interfere between me and my present duty to imperilled comrades. I could not spare her any more than she had spared me. This was war, not love, and she had chosen the course for herself. I would drive from me all thought except the duty to my flag. I would forget everything but that I was a soldier.
I held aside the heavy curtain, and endeavored to peer forth through the glass. 1 could see nothing but a thin waving of branches, and an occasional spark of flame to the left as if our assailants were still firing at the front of the house, to distract attention no doubt from their more important operations at the rear. After some fumbling I discovered the lock of the window, and succeeded in silently raising the sash, so as to lean through the opening with head and shoulders. Yet the reward was scarcely worth the effort; the darkness was intense, and the silence profound. The ground must have been at least thirty feet below, and a great tree stood in front, shadowing everything, its spreading branches obscuring the view. O'Brien thrust his head out beside mine, peering about as with the eyes of a cat.
"It is black as the bottomless pit to me," I whispered; "can you see anything?"
He took his time answering, staring out through the blackness, with one hand shading his eyes.
"There's a grape arbor, or something loike that,
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