Those of the north
bedroom I left open. By leaving the room dark it would be easy for a
sentinel to get warning of an assault by way of the veranda roof. I
stationed Porter in the hall, and Abrams in the dark bedroom, while
Lockhart, Wilson, Brown and I held the parlor and made ourselves
comfortable until the time should come to relieve the men on guard.
One by one the lights that could be seen here and there through the
town disappeared, the sounds from the streets and the other parts of
the house came more infrequently and at last were smothered in silence,
and only darkness and the storm remained.
I thrust open the door to the bedroom to see that the boy and his
guards were safe, and this done I turned down the light, threw myself
on the floor before the door that protected my charge, and mused over
the strange events that had crowded so swiftly upon me.
Subtle warnings of danger floated over my senses between sleeping and
waking, and each time I dropped into a doze I awoke with a start, to
see only the dimly-lighted forms of my men before me, and to hear only
the sweep and whistle of the wind outside and the dash of water against
the shutters. Thrice I had been aroused thus, when, on the borderland
between dreams and waking, a voice reached my ear.
"S-s-t! What was that?"
I sprang up, wide-awake, revolver in hand. It was Lockhart who spoke.
We all strained our ears to listen. There was nothing to be heard but
the moan of the wind and the dash of water.
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