felt sure at last that she heard a footstep, and, stealing softly
across the narrow hallway, found Lilian kneeling at the curtained
window and gazing out upon the brilliant night. There was no reproach
in the mother's murmured words. Well she knew what it portended that
her daughter should be at this hour sleepless and striving, perhaps, to
see the light from the window where her young hero lay prostrate and
suffering. Not one word had they yet exchanged about him, but many a
woman, even with mother love brimming over in her heart, would have
upbraided, and many another would have "nagged." What other word have
we for that feminine method, the resort of so very many, the remedy of
so very few? But Mrs. Archer simply circled a loving arm about the
slender form. "We're all on guard to-night, aren't we, daughter?" she
murmured, fondly kissing the tear-wet cheek. "It was so long before
your father dropped to sleep. Have you--heard anything?"

Burying her face in the dear refuge of years, with her arms thrown
instantly about her mother's neck, Lilian's sole answer was a shake of
the bonny head. It was as much as saying, "You know that isn't the
matter; yet, thank you for trying to think so--thank you for not asking
me what is."

"Well, _I_ did," murmured Mrs. Archer, slowly rising to her feet, and
drawing Lilian with her. "I'm sure I heard low voices down there on the
flat toward the ford. The sentries are more than usually watchful and
taking note of everything. You know it was right out there Number Five
heard the crying in the willows only last night." And all the time she
was quietly leading her child back to the little white bed.

Then suddenly Lilian stopped and lifted her head. "I hear now," said
she. "It's coming!" Across the hall stealthily they sped, and together
were presently peering from the southward window in Mrs. Archer's room.
Two dim figures could be seen crossing the flat from the direction of
the ford, coming straight for the low point of the mesa whereon stood
the quarters of the commanding officer. Then they began breasting the
slope, but exchanging no word. As they reached the top Mrs. Archer
caught Lilian's hand. "It's an Indian--a runner, I believe. See, that's
the corporal of the guard with him! It's a despatch of some kind!"

And so it proved. Five minutes later, Briggs, officer of the day, was
heard coming down the line; his sword clicked at the steps; his foot
was on the veranda, but before