"Are you the man my husband and the others are trying to get?" she inquired. Her voice was not unkind, and suddenly Robert resolved to trust himself to her.
"Yes, madam," he said quietly.
For a moment she did not speak, nor did Robert look up from the floor upon which he had fixed his gaze. He was trembling, for he was fully aware what her reply would mean to him.
"Poor boy!" said the woman at last, sympathetically. "Tom would never forgive me if he knew, but I cannot turn you away. It is n't safe for you to be here, though I don't think the men will come back before morning. You have been shot, you say. Let me help you. Where was it?"
Robert pointed to his shoulder, but could not trust himself to speak. The woman's kindness had touched him deeply, and in his wretchedness he felt that his chin was quivering.
"Come over here," she said gently; and assisting him to stand she led him to a couch in the room, upon which the young soldier was soon lying. Then with deft and gentle fingers she bared his shoulder and examined his wound.
