“’Bout twenty rounds apiece left.”

“Then get to work, men; load up and strengthen every weak spot.  We’ll put up the best show we can.  What did you want, Foster?”

The man addressed, a slim, awkward fellow, his spindle legs conspicuous under the short cavalry jacket, jerked off his cap in embarrassment.

“Why nuthin’ much, sir,” he stammered.  “I ain’t no objections to goin’ on with the fightin’, only if we’re so sartain to catch hell it don’t seem exactly right fer us to keep that thar young gal here in the house.  She ain’t no combatant, sir, an’ dern me if I don’t think she ought to be got outside first.”

“Girl!  What girl?” I cried, believing I must have misunderstood.  “What is it you are trying to say, man?”

The soldier jerked his thumb back over his shoulder.

“The one in thar behind the stairs,” he explained slowly.  “Tom Ragan he made her go thar when the rumpus begun, an’ then Tom he got killed.  Ain’t that the way of it, Talbot?”

“Sure,” chimed in the other.  “It is the same one that was in the parlor last night, sir.  She don’t seem scared, ner nuthin’ like that, only Ragan told her she’d got to stay thar.  I heard ’em talkin’, an’ she said she wanted you.”

“What did Ragan answer?” now thoroughly aroused to the knowledge this must be Billie.

“He only told her to git right back in thar, an’ keep still.  It was just as that whole caboodle come tearin’ up this las’ time, sir.  It wan’t no safe place fer a girl whar you was.  Ragan he promised to tell you, only he got hit ‘fore the fracas was done.  That’s why Foster chirked up, an’ that’s all of it.”

The man had made it clear as far as he understood.  There were no more questions to ask him, and I could only hope to uncover the mystery of her presence through the confession of her own lips.  She had not gone over to the enemy then; had never left the house; instead, was seeking me.  It was all so strange that I stood a moment bewildered, striving to reason the affair out, before attempting to approach the girl.  What could have occurred?  Where could she have hidden?  Why, indeed, had she thus endeavored to conceal herself from both her father and myself?  The troopers had scattered in obedience to orders, a few remaining at the openings watchful for any hostile movement without, before I ventured down the hall.  It was dark behind the stairs, but she saw me instantly, greeting me with a little cry of delight and a quick outstretching of the hands.

“I am so glad you have come!  I—­I haven’t known what to do.”

“If I had supposed you still in the house,” I explained, “I should have been with you before.”

“But I sent word; I told the soldier it was most important.”

“That was Ragan, Miss Billie—­a big fellow, with red moustache?—­he was killed.”

“Killed!  Oh, in the attack; yet—­yet you still hold the house, do you not?”