Here Pretty Pierre touched his arm.

Sergeant Tom drew back, not because he feared but as if to get a mental
perspective of the situation. Galbraith again said to his daughter,--
"Jen, you carried them papers? You! for him--for the Law!" Then he
turned from her, and with hand clenched and teeth set spoke to the
soldier: "Haven't you heard enough? Curse you, why don't you go?"

Sergeant Tom replied coolly: "Not so fast, Galbraith. There's some
mystery in all this. There's my sleep to be accounted for yet. You had
some reason, some"--he caught the eyes of Pierre. He paused. A light
began to dawn on his mind, and he looked at Jen, who stood rigidly pale,
her eyes fixed fearfully, anxiously, upon him. She too was beginning to
frame in her mind a possible horror; the thing that had so changed her
father, the cause for drugging the soldier. There was a silence in which
Pierre first, and then all, detected the sound of horses' hoofs. Pierre
went to the door and looked out. He turned round again, and shrugged his
shoulders with an expression of helplessness. But as he saw Jen was
about to speak, and Sergeant Tom to move towards the door, he put up his
hand to stay them both, and said: "A little--wait!"

Then all were silent. Jen's fingers nervously clasped and unclasped, and
her eyes were strained towards the door. Sergeant Tom stood watching her
pityingly; the old man's head was bowed. The sound of galloping grew
plainer. It stopped. An instant and then three horsemen appeared before
the door. One was Inspector Jules, one was Private Waugh, and the other
between them was--let Jen tell who he was. With an agonised cry she
rushed from the house and threw herself against the saddle, and with her
arms about the prisoner, cried: "Oh, Val, Val, it was you! It was you