But when I opened my eyes again, it all came back to me in an instant, and I called aloud for Dorothy. She was bending over me almost before the sound of my voice had died away.
"Oh, thank God!" I cried. "It was only a dream, then! You are safe,
Dorothy,—there were no Indians,—tell me it was only a dream."
"Yes, I am quite safe, Tom," she answered, and took my hand in both of hers.
"And the Indians?" I asked.
"Were frightened away by Colonel Washington and his men, who killed many of them."
I closed my eyes for a moment, and tried to reconstruct the drama of that dreadful night.
"Dorothy," I asked suddenly, "was Brightson killed?"
"Yes, Tom," she answered softly.
I sighed.
"He was a brave man," I said. "No man could have been braver."