heaps of things when we get to Richmon'--jus' heaps--an' then--"

She stopped abruptly, lifting her head and listening, in the manner of a
sheep dog scenting danger from afar. Her father looked up sharply and
gripped her hands.

"Virgie! You hear--_what_?"

"Horses! Oh, a lot of 'em! On the big road!"

It was true, for down the breeze came the faintly echoed thud of many
hoofs and the clinking jingle of sabers against the riders' thighs.
Virgie turned back from the open door.

"Why--why, they've turned into _our_ road!" Her breath came fast, as she
sank her voice to a faint, awed whisper, "Daddy--do you reckon
it's--_Yankees_?"

"Yes," said her father, who had risen to his feet. "Morrison's cavalry!
They won't hurt _you_; but I'll have to get to the woods again! Good-by,
honey! Good-by!"

He kissed her hurriedly and started for the door, but shrank into the
shadow at sight of a blue-clothed watcher sharply outlined on the crest
of a distant rise. Escape was cut off, and the hunted soldier turned to
Virgie in his need.

"Shut the door--quick!" She obeyed in silence. "Lock it!" She turned the
rusty key, and waited. "Now the windows! Hurry, but do it quietly."