But Peyton, looking out on the white world, saw no one. He did not change his attitude when the door reopened and Elizabeth and her aunt came into the parlor, arm in arm.
“You’re sure ’twas he, aunt Sally?” Elizabeth had been saying.
“Positive. He should be here now,” Miss Sally had replied.
Elizabeth cast a look of secret elation on the unheeding rebel captain, whose forehead was still against the window-pane. She saw a possible means of his still further degradation.
Suddenly he took a quick step back from the window, impulsively renewed his grasp of his sword-hilt, and showed a face of resolute antagonism.
Elizabeth knew from this that he had seen Colden. She gave a smile of pleasant anticipation.
But Miss Sally had relapsed into her usual timid self. She held tightly to Elizabeth’s arm.
“Oh, dear!” she whispered. “Won’t something happen when those two meet?”
“I hope so!” said Elizabeth, placidly.