take care of you?" he demanded, while the echo died away, and a lull
ensued.

"I know you can," she replied, adjusting with the steady hand of an
expert the patching over the muzzle of the discharged weapon in the
semi-obscurity.

A blood-curdling shout came from the Cherokees in the woods with a
deeper roar of musketry at closer quarters; and a hollow groan within
the blockhouse, where there was a sudden commotion in the dim light,
told that some bullet had found its billet.

"They are coming to the attack again--Hand me the
rifle--quick--quick--Oh, Nan, how you help me! How brave you are--I love
you! I love you!"

"Look out now for a flash in the pan!" Peninnah Penelope Anne merely
admonished him.

Being susceptible to superstition and a ponderer on omens, Ralph Emsden
often thought fretfully afterward on the double meaning of these words,
and sought to displace them in their possible evil influence on his
future by some assurance more cheerful and confident. With this view he
often earnestly beset her, but could secure nothing more pleasing than a
reference to the will of her grandfather and a protestation to abide by
his decision in the matter.

Now Peninnah Penelope Anne's grandfather was deaf. His was that hopeless
variety of the infirmity which heard no more than he desired. His
memory, however, was unimpaired, and it may be that certain