he guard, entered the house and confronted him and her.
_That_ would wind up Mr. Hayne's career beyond question: nothing short
of dismissal could result. Over he went, full of his project, listened
at Hayne's like the eaves-dropping sneak he was, saw again the shadow of
the graceful form and heard the silvery, happy laugh, and then it was
he sent for Rayner. It was near midnight when he led his forces to the
attack. A light was now burning in the second story, which he thought
must be Sam's; but the lights had been turned low in the parlor, and the
occupants had disappeared from sight and hearing. By inquiry he had
ascertained that Hayne's bedroom was just back of the parlor. A man was
stationed at the back door, others at the sides, with orders to arrest
any one who attempted to escape; then softly he stepped to the front
door, telling Rayner to follow him, and the corporal of the guard to
follow both. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, and a light was
burning in the hall. Never knocking, he stepped in, marched through the
hall into the parlor, which was empty, and, signalling "Come on" to his
followers, crossed the parlor and seized the knob of the bedroom door.
It was locked. Rayner, looking white and worried, stood just behind him,
and the corporal but a step farther back. Before Buxton could knock and
demand admission, which was his intention, quick footsteps came flying
down the stairs from the second story, and the trio wheeled about in
surprise, to find Mr. Hayne, dressed in his fatigue uniform, standing at
the threshold and staring at them with mingled astonishment,
incredulity, and indignation. A sudden light seemed to dawn upon him as
he glanced from one to the other. With a leap like a cat he threw
himself upon Buxton, hurled him back, and stood at the closed door
confronting them with blazing eyes and clinching fists.

"Open that door, sir!" cried Buxton. "You have a woman hidden there.
Open, or stand aside."

"You hounds! I'll kill the first man who dares enter!" was the furious
answer; and Hayne had snatched from the wall his long infantry sword and
flashed the blade in the lamplight. Rayner made a step forward, half
irresolute. Hayne leaped at him like a tiger. "Fire! Quick!" shouted
Buxton, in wild excitement. Bang! went the carbine, and the bullet
crashed through the plaster overhead, and, seeing the gleaming steel at
his superior's throat, the corporal had sent the heavy butt crashing
upon the l