way," replied Prescott confidently. "Lift the curtain
from the window and look. The night is dark and cold; all who can will
be under roofs, and even the sentinels will hug walls and earthworks.
Now is our time."

"You must go, Lucia," said Miss Grayson decisively.

Miss Catherwood bowed assent and went at once to the next room to
prepare for the journey.

"Will you care for her as if she were your own, your sister?" asked Miss
Grayson, turning appealingly to Prescott.

"As God is my witness," he replied, and the ring in his tone was so deep
and true that she could not doubt it.

"I believe you," said this bravest of old maids, looking him steadfastly
in the eye for a few moments and then following the girl into the next
room.

Prescott sat alone by the fire, staring at three or four coals that
glowed redly on the hearth, and wondering how he should escape with
this girl from Richmond. He had said confidently that he should find a
way and he believed he would, but he knew of none.

They came back presently, the girl wrapped to the eyes in a heavy black
cloak.

"It is Miss Grayson's," she said with a touch of humour. "She has
consented to take my brown one in its place."

"Overshoes?" said Prescott, interrogatively.

Her feet peeped from beneath her dress.

"Two pairs," she replied. "I have on both Charlotte's and my own."

"Gloves?"

She held out her hands enclosed in the thickest mittens.

"You will do," said Prescott; "and now is the time for us to go."

He turned his back while these two women, tried by so many dangers,
wished each other farewell. There were no tears, no vehement
protestations; just a silent, clinging embrace, a few words spoken low,
and then the parting. Prescott's own eyes were moist. There must be
unusual qualities in these two women to inspire so deep an attachment,
so much capacity for sacrifice.

He opened the door an inch or so and, looking out, beheld a city silent
and dark, like a city of the dead.

"Come," he said, and the two went out into the silence and cold
desolation. He glanced back and saw the door yet open a few inches. Then
it closed and the brave old maid was left alone.

The girl shivered at the first touch of the night and Prescott asked
anxiously if she found the cold too great.

"Only for a moment," she replied. "Which way shall we go?"

He started at the question, not yet having chosen a course, and replied
in haste:

"We must reach the Baltimore