"What is it? What has happened?"
"Oh!" she started, and looked at me scarce able to speak. "You are not killed? not even badly hurt?"
"A hard crack only; I cannot move my arm. It was your cry which saved my head. Who struck the blow? I saw nothing."
"A soldier; he came up out of here," her voice trembling. "I do not think he saw me at all. He—he just seemed to leap forward out of the dark, and struck one blow with his musket—see, it lies here."
"He dropped it, and ran?"
She hid her face in her hands, and I could feel the trembling of her body.
"No! I—I do not know how it happened. I—I caught hold of him suddenly from behind just as he struck. That—that must have frightened him, for—for he reeled back, missed his footing, and went down. He—he just swore once, and I saw his face; then his gun struck against me, and—and he tumbled over backward, and went crunching against something down there. He—he hasn't moved since."
I waited an instant listening, conscious of the pain in my arm, and more fearful that the noise of the encounter had reached the ears of the guard at the
