it.

Inside the tent, a girl, sad at heart, crouched against the canvas; her
fingers felt around the _empty_ hole in one of her pear-shaped
earrings. As she deftly fitted the two halves together into one pendant
she crooned softly:

Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Maryland! My Maryland!

CHAPTER XII

THE FIGHT AT THE FORD

The sentry slackened his walk and rubbed his sleepy eyes. It was almost
time for his relief. He glanced behind him at the motionless figures
lying around the ashes of the camp fire. If it had been a bivouac of
the dead the silence could not have been more profound. Even Lloyd had
dropped into the heavy sleep that comes in the early hours of the
morning. The guerilla gazed for a moment at the other sentries, dim
shadowy forms in the early dawn; then continued on his way. He had
almost reached the evergreen which marked the end of his patrol, when a
faint, very faint, sound in the woods to his left caused him to wheel
in that direction. Surely something moved among the trees. Instantly
his challenge rang out:

"Who goes there? Halt! _Halt!_ or I fire!"

A flash--a loud report! Tucker sprang to his feet as the camp awoke.

"Up, men, up!" he roared. "Secure the prisoners; then mount."

Goddard, who had jumped up, stood bewildered for a second; then dashed
toward Nancy's tent. A burly guerilla clutched him by the shoulder, but
Goddard sent him reeling back with a well directed blow, and continued
his race to the tent. He must shield Nancy.

"Stop, Goddard!" thundered Tucker. "Remember your parole."

"No parole holds in the presence of a rescue," panted Goddard. "Lloyd,
Lloyd, this way, man!"

Frightened by the sudden commotion and firing, Nancy stepped out of the
tent, followed by Miss Metoaca, and paused, uncertain where to go, or
what to do. To his horror, Goddard saw a guerilla seize her roughly and
push her toward the plunging, frightened horses. Miss Metoaca screamed.

With a bound Goddard threw himself forward and grappled with the man,
who knocked Nancy roughly to one side the better to tackle the Union
officer. Reeling backward and forward, the two men fought locked in a
close embrace. The guerilla grasped an old pistol in his right hand,
and tried desperately to use it; but Goddard kept its muzzle turned
skyward, and gradually forced the man's arm, folded, against the
other's chest. Su