"There are no guards down here?"
"No."
"Nor at the stables?"
"I cannot tell; I was afraid to ask."
The arbor ended some thirty feet from the stables, with a low, vine-covered fence between. There have been darker nights, yet I could distinguish merely the dim outlines. Still feeling her clasp on my arm I came to a halt, startled into absolute silence by the approach of the relief guard. The sturdy tramp of feet, and the slight tinkle of bayonets against canteens, told plainly the fellows had turned our way, although, crouched where we were, we could at first see nothing. I drew my revolver, my other hand clasping hers, and waited breathlessly. The little squad came trudging down the opposite side of the fence, only the upper part of their bodies dimly visible against the slightly lighter background of the sky. I made out the officer in command, and four men, then they wheeled into the shadow of the stables, and the sentinel stationed there challenged. There was a reply, the sound of a musket brought sharply to the shoulder, a gruff, indistinguishable order, and then again the tramp of feet, dying away in the distance. Every movement, and word, told the story, revealed the situation. I turned my eyes back to the girl's face, questioningly, barely able to perceive its whiteness.
"They have a guard there," I whispered, my lips close to her ear. "Is there no other way out?"
"Yes, on foot, but I supposed you would need a horse."
"And there are horses there?"
"I do not know about any others; I understand the judge has lost all his, but the one Captain Le Gaire left for you this morning was taken there."
"You know the situation,"--the cavalryman's eagerness for a mount overcoming all thought of danger,--"how best to get in."