Love under Fire

r swept from me all admiration. I had been played with, outwitted from the start, every movement checkmated--even now she was actually laughing at my helplessness. My fi

t seemed to me, she was desperate enough to do even this. And that was a hair-trigger she fingered so recklessly! Instead of leaping forward, I stood moti

nough, "so I wouldn't try that if I were

with! This woman, now threatening me with death, was the same happy-hearted, laughing girl whose hand I had held, and to who

red. Miss Hardy stepped instantly aside, concealing the revolver within the folds of her skirt, yet with wat

e said with new cordiality, "and I am very glad to recei

her amused eyes, yet not daring to blurt

e, delightful people, the real, old Southern stock. I regret great

f Beauregard's forces makes it safer for him to remain quiet for a few hours,--until night comes.

y you jest, Miss Willifred! That is

e house, if, by any chance, it

man nodded, as

r. You will not be the first Confederate to lie hidden there, sir," with a bow to me, and a quick glance toward th

about to propose doing so. Maj

behind the fold of her skirt. She opened the door into the hall, and, with one questioning glance into her eyes, I murmured a word of thanks

turn to the left," s

half tempted to endeavor a sudden leap; yet she was fully prepared, and I hesitated. Would she actually shoot me down? Could it be possible the girl would take my life? I could scarcely

se I r

Lieutenant. This is hard enough

eling like a whipped cur I went slowly up the broad stairs, my hand on the banister rail, an

chimney. Step inside, Lieutenant

a heavy key was being turned in the lock, and then withdrawn. Following I heard her qui

led, my lips at the

the answering

are a brave girl, and that I

my unexpected words had left her speechless. Her br

--this has been so difficult to do. But you know I mean to d

t for ho

us no deep injury." Her voice became f

ft me. The slight falter, the womanly softness of her voice, had robbed me of all resentment, and I was conscious merely of admiration for her courage and loyalty. But I desired intently to stand equally high in her memory, and in order to do so must exhibit my own wit, my own resources in emergency. I felt the door--it was of solid oak, with no spot of weakness evident, even the key-hole being concealed by a metal flap on the outside. The room itself was small, the walls tinted red, and

the problem appeared unsolvable. The door, of hard-wood, fitting tightly into the jambs, was hopeless,--particularly with Billie outside, loaded revolver in hand, nerved to the shooting point. I climbed again to the window, but the casing was solidly spiked into position, and I could barely press my head through the aperture into the open air. It was a thirty-foot sheer dr

space with my knuckles. If any chimney was there, the stones were protected by wooden casing, which, covered by the red paper, was effectively concealed. I was about to abandon the search when a finger penetrated the paper, revealing a round opening --a pipe hole, left uncovered except for the wallpaper. I wrenched out the tin protector, and felt within. The chimney had apparently never been used, the interior being clear of soot, and was built of a single layer of stone, Southern fashion, the irregular fragments mortared together, and plastered smoothly on the inside. Without was a th

o proceed. The time passed with no unusual sound reaching me from the hall without. Billie evidently felt no desire to acquaint Judge Moran with my real identity, and perhaps would thus experience some difficulty in procuring me food,--possibly would make no effort even until night. I succeeded in pushing aside the flap over the

trees partially obscuring the view. Yet I could see clearly enough, and up the pike leading through the village, half hidden by a cloud of dust, was advancing a regiment of cavalry, the