"We will! We will!"
Soon another battery swept by the house, the horses almost ready to drop from exhaustion. Marion saw this and whispered to her mother.
"Let me do it, mother," she pleaded.
"If you so much wish it," answered Mrs. Ruthven.
With all speed the girl ran to the barn and brought out her own horse, a beautiful black, and ran him to the road.
"Take my horse and hitch him to yonder cannon!" she cried. "He is fresh—he will help you save the piece!"
"Good fer you, young lady!" shouted one of the cannoneers. "We've got friends yet, it seems!" The horse was taken, and the cannon moved on at a swifter pace than ever.
"That was grand of you, Marion!" cried Jack. He knew just how much she thought of the steed she had sacrificed, her pet saddle horse.
And now came several of the hospital corps, carrying the wounded on stretchers, and also several ambulances. In the meantime the shooting came closer and closer, and several shells sped over the plantation, to burst with a crash in the woods beyond.
"The battle is at hand! God defend us!" murmured Mrs. Ruthven.