"He said you told him he didn't need go beyond the head of the ravine,
sir," explained the sergeant, "and as one of the men heard you say so, I
didn't feel like making him come along. He started back for camp."

"I believe I did promise something like that," I admitted, "and he
wouldn't have been much assistance anyway. Well, six men and yourself
ought to do the business. Watch the windows, so none get away."

Perhaps I should have gone myself, but I was disinclined to leave the
room, desirous of getting off my despatch without delay, and possessed
implicit confidence in the promptness and discretion of the sergeant. He
drew his revolver, the men silently following his example, and the
little party slipped quietly out into the hall, the last man closing the
door behind him. Evidently they encountered no one in the passageway.
Listening intently I heard the dining-room door thrown back violently, a
confused noise of feet, of chairs hurriedly pushed aside, a voice
uttering a stern order, the sound of a brief struggle, ended by a blow
and the thud of a body striking the floor, then numerous voices speaking
excitedly, followed by silence. Convinced the work had been
accomplished, and that the house was now entirely in our possession, I
walked across the room to the desk. Miss Hardy still sat where I had
ordered, and I was compelled to pass her chair. Her eyes met
mine coldly.

"Would you permit me to go across to my father?" she asked.

"Most certainly; you are in no sense a prisoner, except I shall have to
ask you to remain in the room for the present."

She inclined her head ever so slightly.

"I shall ask no further favor, and thank you for granting this."

I sank into the chair at the desk, and watched her cross the room. Her
words and actions hurt me, and yet it was scarcely to be expected that
she would be pleased with the sudden change in affairs. To see me thus
in complete control of the situation, her father and Le Gaire prisoners,
all their plans frustrated, was maddening, particularly so as she
realized that this result came largely through her own indiscretion. I
began myself to doubt the complete success of my scheme. Without
question I had the power now to prevent her marriage, yet I might have
gone too far, and caused a revulsion of feeling. She had been interested
in me before--for it had been her part to help me in times of danger,
and sympathy lies very close to love--but now the conditions were