THE TABLES TURNED
Her eyes uplifted to mine, frankly puzzled by my question, yet with no purpose to avoid an answer.
"Nor can I explain to you, a stranger. Indeed I may have said too much already. But what is that?"
There was no doubt as to what it was—the pounding of horses' hoofs on the ash-hardened driveway without. Young Dunn, no doubt, with a squad of Confederate troopers, come to carry me off as prisoner. The same thought was in both our minds, yet we remained speechless, motionless, until some one began pounding at the front door. I was first to find my voice.
"I am a prisoner; you had better ask what they want."
She advanced to the door, calling through the wood to the impatient man without.
"What is it? Who are you?"
"A squadron of Federal cavalry; open the door before we break it down."
She shrank back, gasping as though for breath, her hands pressed against her heart, and I caught her arm thinking she would fall. With the first throb of delight, I made my own decision.
"Don't fear, Miss Denslow; let me treat with them." I whispered swiftly. "I will not betray you. Run upstairs to him, and remain quiet until we ride away."
Her eyes, bright with gratitude, flashed into mine; I felt the pressure of her hand, and the next instant she was flying up the steps, casting one swift glance backward as she disappeared. Again the man without hammered at the door, this time with the butt of a carbine. I flung
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