you to consider me a personal friend—one in whom you feel an interest equal at least to that shown Lieutenant Raymond."
"Why I do," her eyes opening widely. "It is for your own protection I refuse your escort to Lewisburg. I am a traitor to my flag not to take you there, and surrender you a prisoner. If—if I did not care I would."
"You mean memory of the boy restrains you?"
She hesitated a moment, her lips parted, a frown wrinkling her forehead.
"No," she acknowledged slowly, as though the thought had just dawned. "That memory is not even vivid. I—I believe you to be a man I shall be glad to know—Hark! that was a shot!"
"Yes, and another; they sound to the west of the house."
"In the orchard, beyond the stable. Can there really be someone hiding there?"
"They are certainly firing at something—there speaks another rifle farther south. Those fellows will be back presently, and we must be out of their way. What room is that beyond the chimney?"
"It was used by the housekeeper. Do you know where Parson Nichols was left?"
"In the room at the head of the stairs; why yes, your room. Could they have killed the man?"
