“Take this,” she said, as she handed Harper a large cloak to hide his white shirt, for it will be remembered that his uniform had been stripped from him. “And here is a weapon—the best I could procure.” She placed in his hand a horse-pistol and some cartridges. “Let us go; but remember that the keenest vigilance is needed. The enemy is legion, and death threatens us at every step.”
Harper wrapped the cloak round him, and, loading the pistol, thrust it into his belt.
“I am ready,” he said.
She drew close to him. She took his hand, and bringing her face near to his, murmured—
“Haidee lives or dies for you.”
The silent trio went out into the darkness of the night. Heavy rain-drops were beginning to patter down. The wind was gaining the strength of a hurricane. Then the curtain of the sky seemed to be suddenly rent by a jagged streak of blue flame, that leapt from horizon to horizon, and was followed by a crashing peal of thunder that reverberated with startling distinctness.
“Fortune is kind,” whispered Haidee; “and the storm will favour our escape.”
Scarcely had the words left her lips than a shrill cry of alarm sounded close to their ears, and Harper suddenly found himself held in a vice-like grip.