The next morning brought Colonel Swearingen and his militia levies, and at his approach the besiegers gave over the attempt and withdrew. The post was saved with the women and children. Elizabeth and McCullough were the heroes of the occasion.
"How could you do it?" asked Hugh of the girl, as they wandered together by the river that evening.
"I did it for you, dear," she answered.
"No, not only for me, but for the women and children; you thought of them?"
"Oh, yes; but I thought more of you than of the others, all the time. I knew you'd save me, Hugh. I was sure you would not let them take me. 'Twas your rifle——"
"Nay, dearest, 'twas your shoe." He took it fondly from his coat and kissed it. "This little shoe that turned you aside and gave me an opening. God forbid I should ever have to do such shooting again, dearest."
"Amen, Hugh, and yet He guided the bullets, I think."
"Yes, truly. And I never dreamed that you were such a heroine, Elizabeth. Where did you learn it? Not in Philadelphia, I am sure."
"No, Hugh, there is but one school in which they teach those things."
"And that is the school of——"