"Take the men back into the hall, Sergeant," the Lieutenant ordered, "and look through whatever rooms have not been visited. Request Captain Whitlock to join me here."
We waited motionless, the lieutenant's hand on the butt of his revolver, as though he half suspicioned treachery. Twice he endeavored to open conversation with the lady, but her response was not encouraging, and he evidently did not feel safe except with his eyes on me. The sight of the uniform I wore perplexed and angered him; he would have greatly enjoyed the privilege of going for me rough-shod, and was restrained only by the presence of the lady. She stood quietly between us, her lips firmly set, and I thought was struggling to retain control of herself, and grasp quickly some explanation of my presence. I could perceive only the contour of her face, but Raymond fronted me, a tall, well proportioned fellow, with incipient mustache, black and curled at the points; a rather long face, and eyes sternly serious. There was about him an appearance of force—a bit of a bully I should say—and his uniform was new, and carefully fitted.
A man stood in the doorway, bowing, his mild blue eyes surveying us nervously. He sported a light beard, closely trimmed, the top of his head scarcely reaching to the lieutenant's shoulder. Miss Noreen
