e woman knew from the
glance at the door, which accompanied them, that he meant to ask
permission to depart.

"Yes, you can go," was the astonishing answer, and she nodded her head.

The Indian moved hesitatingly at first, in the direction of the
entrance, keeping his gleaming eyes on the woman, as if doubtful whether
she understood him.

"Go on, be quick," she added reassuringly, though she took care that the
old-fashioned weapon was not lowered or turned aside.

The voices of the servant and her master were plainly heard above, and
the Comanche saw it was no time for tarrying. A couple more steps took
him to the door, and, with little effort, he lifted the huge bolt from
its place, pulled open the structure, and whisked out in the darkness,
without so much as a "good-night" or "thank you."

The instant he vanished, Mrs. Shirril set down her gun, darted forward,
and slipped back the bolt, making the door as secure as before.

It was a strange act on her part thus releasing the red miscreant who
was seeking her life, but, after all, it was characteristic of her sex.

She had little more than time to set things to rights, as may be said,
when she stepped back and away from the windows, and sat down in the
nearest chair. A slight reaction came over her; she felt weak, though
she knew it would not amount to anything: she had been through too many
perils before.

The feet and lower limbs of Captain Shirril soon appeared on the rounds
of the ladder, with Dinah close behind him. In her eagerness to get at
the Indian, she stooped forward, so that her big dusky face showed
almost over his shoulders. She was just getting ready to fall on the
warrior, when she observed that he was gone.

"Whar's dat willian?" she demanded, glancing round the dimly lit room.

"Yes, Edna, I heard you had a guest down here."

"He asked me to let him go, and I thought it was the best way to get rid
of him," replied the wife with a smile, for her strength was returning
to her.

"Humph!" snorted the disgusted Dinah, as one of her feet came down on
the floor with a bang, "I's got my 'pinion of sich foolishness as dat."

"Let me hear how it was, Edna," said the husband, laughing in spite of
himself.

She quickly gave the particulars, and he in turn told what he had passed
through during his sojourn on the roof.

"The fellow deserved something, but, after all, I find no fault with
your action. Much as I am exasperated against these Coman