Don't stand growling there, for it will do no good—we have ourselves to think about. Get in, I say!"
He was so slow, that I thrust him roughly through the opening, and closed and locked the door. The girl had placed the lamp on a table, and, as I turned, her eyes met mine
"Suppose they—they fail to come?" she questioned. "He could not get out; he might die in there."
"Little danger of their not coming. Anyhow I prefer risking that fellow's life rather than yours. Is he really a preacher?"
"Yes; he has a church at the Crossroads. I heard him preach once at a camp meeting. He was here before when Tom's wife died, and conducted the funeral."
"Tom? one of the servants?"
"Yes, my father's body servant. He accompanied him to the army." The tears rushed to her eyes, dimming them, and her hand touched my sleeve. "Oh, Lieutenant, do you really suppose he has been killed?"
"We can only hope," I answered, catching my breath quickly. "Nichols may have told that for a purpose—a desire to make you feel helpless and alone. But we cannot stand here and talk. You
