was far preferable to falling alive into their hands. I felt instinctively that it would be her choice. She had uttered no sound, no cry after that first startled exclamation. Suddenly her hands grasped mine in which I gripped the revolver.
"Do not shoot—not yet!" she whispered, the sound of her words barely audible. "Wait; there is one chance still that we may deceive them."
"A way leading out? You mean a secret passage?"
"No, but a spot where we might hide, and be overlooked. I am sure none of these men know this house; Anse Cowan has never been inside of it, and most of the ruffians with him are from beyond the mountains. If they do not find us here when they search, they will believe we have escaped."
"They will discover the preacher," I protested, yet with a faint throb of hope. "He will be heard from presently, and they will learn the truth from him."
"All he knows—yes; but that is not much. He cannot be sure that we have not had time in which to get safely away. The two of us cannot defend both these stairs," she urged, "and our only hope is in hiding. Come now, while we have time—there they are, battering at the parlor door. They will be in the hall next, and it will be too late."
