“Don’t make a noise,” he said. “Listen.” The girl sat up on the straw. “I’ll call,” she whispered presently, “and pretend you’re not here.” “But the horse?” “I’ll lie about him.” She raised her voice. “Who’s there?” she called. “It’s I--Calvert. Where are you?” “Listen,” she answered; “I’ve fallen through the floor into the cellar. Don’t you see where it’s broken?” The footsteps approached. “You’re not hurt, are you?” “No; but don’t come too close, don’t try to look down; the floor’s frightfully rickety. Isn’t there a ladder there somewhere?” A man laughed. “Wait,” he said. They heard his footsteps and laughter receding. Presently the bottom of a ladder appeared through the hole in the floor. “Look out for your head,” said the man. The girl rose and guided the ladder clear of Aladdin’s head. “What have you done with the Yankee’s horse?” she called. “He’s here.” “Where’s the Yankee, do you suppose?” “We think he must have run off into the woods.” “That’s what I thought.” The girl began to mount the ladder. “I’m coming up,” she said. She disappeared, and the ladder was withdrawn. She came back after a long time, and there were men with her. “It’s all right, Yankee,” she called down the hole. “They’re your own men, and I’m the prisoner now.” The ladder reappeared, and two friendly men in blue came down into the cellar. “Good God!” they said. “It’s Aladdin O’Brien!” Hannibal St. John and Beau Larch lifted Aladdin tenderly and took him out of his prison. Outside, tents were being pitched in the dark, and there was a sound of axes. Fires glowed here and there through the woods and over the fields, and troops kept pouring into the plantation. They laid Aladdin on a heap of hay and went to bring a stretcher. The girl sat down beside him. “You’ll be all right now,” she said. “Yes,” said Aladdin. “And go home to your sweetheart.” “Yes,” said Aladdin, and he thought of the tall violets on the banks of the Maine brooks, and the freshness of the sea. “What is her name?” said the girl. “Margaret,” said Aladdin. “Mine’s Ellen,” said the girl, and it seemed as if she sighed. Aladdin took her hand. “You ‘ve been very good to me,” he said, and his voice grew tender, for she was very beautiful, “and I’ll never forget you,” he said. “Oh, me!” said the girl, and there was a silence between them. “I tried to help you,” said the girl, faintly, “but I wasn’t very good at it.” “You were an angel,” said Aladdin. “I don’t suppose we’ll ever see each other again, will we?” said the girl. “I don’t know,” said Aladdin. “Perhaps I’ll come back some day.” “It’s very silly of me--” said the girl. “What?” said Aladdin. “Nothing.” He closed his eyes, for he was very weak. It seemed as if a great sweetness came close to his face, and he could have sworn that something wet and hot fell lightly on his forehead; but when he opened his eyes, the girl was sitting aloof, her face in the shadow.