“Oh, Philip!” she cried, tears starting to her eyes again, “do you think that would weigh with a girl who is so truly and unselfishly in love with you?”

“You don’t understand,” he said wearily.  “I’d take that chance now.  But do you think me disloyal enough to confess to any woman on earth what my mother, if she were living, would sacrifice her very life to conceal?”

He bent his head, supporting it in his hands, speaking as though to himself: 

“I believe that the brain is the vehicle, not the origin of thought.  I believe a brain becomes a mind only when an immortality exterior to ourselves animates it.  And this is what is called the soul. . . .  Whatever it is, it is what I saw—­or what that something, exterior to my body, recognised.

“Perhaps these human eyes of mine did not see her.  Something that belongs to me saw the immortal visitor; something, that is the vital part of me, saw, recognised, and was recognised.”

For a long while they sat there, silent; the booming guns shook the window; the clatter and uproar of the passing waggon train filled their ears.

Suddenly the house rocked under the stunning crash of a huge gun.  Celia sprang to her feet, caught at the curtain as another terrific blast shivered the window-panes and filled the room with acrid dust.

Through the stinging clouds of powdered plaster Colonel Craig entered the room, hastily pulling on his slashed coat as he came.

“There’s a fort in the rear of us—­don’t be frightened, Celia.  I think they must be firing at——­”

His voice was drowned in the thunder of another gun; Celia made her way to him, hid her face on his breast as the room shook again and the plaster fell from the ceiling, filling the room with blinding dust.

“Oh, Curt,” she gasped, “this is dreadful.  Philip cannot stay here——­”

“Better pull the sheets over his head,” said her husband, meeting Berkley’s eyes with a ghost of a smile.  “It won’t last long; and there are no rebel batteries that can reach Paigecourt.”  He kissed her.  “How are you feeling, dear?  I’m trying to arrange for you to go North on the first decent transport——­”

“I want to stay with you, Curt,” she pleaded, tightening her arms around his neck.  “Can’t I stay as long as my husband and son are here?  I don’t wish to go——­”

“You can’t stay,” he said gently.  “There is no immediate danger here at Paigecourt, but the army is turning this landing into a vast pest hole.  It’s deadly unhealthy.  I wish you to go home just as soon as I can secure transportation——­”

“And let them burn Paigecourt?  Who is there to look after——­”

“We’ll have to take such chances, Celia.  The main thing is for you to pack up and go home as soon as you possibly can. . . .  I’ve got to go out now.  I’ll try to come back to-night.  The General understands that it’s your house, and that you are my wife; and there’s a guard placed and a Union flag hung out from the gallery——­”