We turned; she took my arm, and together we moved slowly back through the falling dusk.
And, as we approached her door, came a sudden and furious sound of galloping behind us, and we sprang to the side of the road as the express thundered by in a storm of dust and driving pebbles.
"News," she whispered. "Do they bring good news as fast as bad?"
"It may mean our marching orders," I said, dejected.
We had now arrived at Croghan's, and she was withdrawing her arm from mine, when the hollow sound of a conch-horn went echoing and booming through the dusk.
"It does mean your marching orders!" she exclaimed, startled.
"It most certainly means something," said I. "Good-night—I must run for the fort——"
"Are you going to——to leave me?"
"That horn is calling out Morgan's men——"
"Am I not to see you again?"