"About a mile, I'm thinkin'."
"What? What's that you say? Only a mile from here?"
"That's what I'm tellin' yez. The army's been marchin' in the night; but this rain will be after compellin' it to halt right in—in Gooseberry, as I'm told they call it."
"Cranberry," laughed the lieutenant.
"Cranberry or Gooseberry is all one and the same thing to me. Now, me bye, ye'll be after wantin' some breakfast, I'm thinkin'. Jest say the word and I'll be fixin' ye out, and have a bit left over for yer poor baste, which doesn't look as if he'd been livin' any too high of late."
"No, no, Molly," protested the lieutenant quickly, and, as Tom thought, with an eagerness he could not understand. "We're not hungry, for we had some breakfast before we started this morning. We did indeed," he added, as he noted the woman's apparent unbelief. "We're not hungry, but it's kind of you to think of us, and we thank you just the same as if you had fed us."
In the course of the conversation between the young lieutenant and the men in the barn, Tom learned that the main body of the army was now less than a mile away. The little band had been one of the advance parties, and the storm had compelled them to seek the shelter of the barn by the roadside.
Meanwhile, the rain continued to fall, and long after the thunder ceased the storm showed no signs of abating. The water almost covered the road and penetrated the roof of the barn, which was far from being in a good state of repair. The heavy downpour, however, did not seem to cool the air, and the men and horses were in a sad plight. Just why they should have sought the shelter, which virtually was no shelter at all, Tom could not understand; but he asked no questions, and busied himself in listening to the conversation of the men, and watching the intrepid Molly, who to all appearances was not aware of the fact that she was not as much of a true soldier as any of the men.
After a half hour had passed the lieutenant approached the boy, who was standing before the open door, looking out upon the storm.
"Who is she? What is she?" inquired Tom, indicating by a glance of his eyes the strange woman whom his friend had addressed as "Molly."