"Gun?" queried Hicks, who knelt by the window, with his rifle on the sill.
"Knife," replied Hemming.
Marion cut away the sleeve of his jacket. "Surely Mr. Cuddlehead did not carry a knife," she said.
"I don't think so; I jumped on the wrong man. Heard some one crawling through the bushes, and thought I had him. One of my own troopers—he stuck me in the muscles,—bleeds a bit, that's all," he replied.
"There's not a sound in the garden now," said Hicks.
"Who fired the shot?" asked Tetson.
"A corporal," said Hemming. "He was behind me when you spoke. I didn't know—any one—was near. He'll never—fire another—shot." Then the commander-in-chief fainted on Valentine's bed, and Smith brought him around with cold water and brandy. Then Smith stole away from the villa toward the barracks. It was close upon dawn when he returned.
"They think they'll kidnap the President and the ladies, and take them away up-country and hold them for a ransom; it is the stranger's idea," he informed them.
The President turned a shade paler, and glanced apprehensively at his wife and daughter. Hicks swore. Hemming sat up and slid his feet to the floor.
"They are fools,—and Cuddlehead must be mad," he exclaimed. Tetson went over to his wife.