der me, his head upheld by the angle of the wall. I struggled to my knees, still staring at him, uncertain as to what had actually occurred, struggling for breath. The girl stood over me, white-faced, her eyes wide open with horror, the remnant of the teapot in her hand. Suddenly her hands covered her eyes, the fragment of crockery falling noisily to the floor.
"I—I struck him," she sobbed, unnerved. "I—I have killed him!"
"No such good luck," I answered, recovering myself, and grasping her hands, so that I could look into her eyes. "The man is not dead—only stunned by the blow. He will be conscious in a minute. Do not become frightened; you did right, and we have no time to lose. You have a horse somewhere?"
"Yes, in the stable."
"Get whatever you need for a ride through the storm. Be quick, for those villains may be here at any moment. I'll tie Nichols, and wait for you at the foot of the rear stairs."
She hesitated, her hands still held in mine unconsciously.
"You—you mean I am to ride for Lewisburg—and—and you?"
"Oh, I must do the best I can on foot. We'll keep together as long as possible; only you must not
