leaving a hovering cloud of dust in their wake. Moving swiftly, and
paler and graver, Dolly stood up, her steady gaze on the departing
men.

"Did you hear that?" she said, dejectedly. "He ordered his men to--to
fire. Who knows? Perhaps before daybreak I shall have no--" She
checked herself, her small hand at her throat. "I shall have no
father, and with all his faults I love him dearly. He doesn't think
moonshining is wrong. Some of the most respectable persons--even
ministers--wink at it, if they don't actually take part. My father,
like many others, has an idea that the Government robbed the Southern
people of all they had, and they look on the law against whisky-making
as an infringement on their rights. I wish my father would obey the
law, but he doesn't, and now this has come. He may be killed or put in
prison."

"You must try not to give way," Mostyn said, full of sympathy. "Don't
forget that Barnett has had time, perhaps, to warn them, and they may
escape."

"Oh, I hope so--I do--I do!" Still holding his hand, she led him back
to the gate, and stood resting her arms on its top, now almost
oblivious of his presence. Half an hour dragged by, during which no
remark of his could induce her to speak. Presently a low whistle came
from the wood across the road.

"That's Tobe now!" she cried. "Oh, I wonder if he was in time!" Then,
as she reached for the gate-latch he heard her praying: "God have
mercy--oh, Lord pity me--pity me!"