“You thought you were going to frighten us with your armed force,” said Dorothy to the Sergeant, who managed to keep near her, “but I know you have only four men outside, and it’s a shame to keep them on their horses on such a bitter night.” She walked over to the window and looked out. “It is snowing furiously! Why don’t you let them come in and have some supper? I should hate to have any of our men outside of warmth and shelter to-night,” she added, wondering miserably where Bobbie then was. “Ask the Lieutenant to let them come in.” The Sergeant looked at her curiously; surely she could not be scheming. He walked over to the Lieutenant and repeated Dorothy’s request. They talked it over for awhile, and then the Lieutenant accepted the invitation with thanks. The men outside were men of his own class, and at least would appreciate the courtesy of being asked in, and the superior officer had made up his mind to stay and see something more of that ghost, if possible. Women are nearly always good actors, and even the prim Misses Rutherfoord and the proper Miss Trent nervously tried to appear in sympathy with the reckless gayety of Dorothy and Anne, who, when the other four young men came in, received them as they would have done the acquaintances of old friends, and the dining-room became a scene of genuine Christmas cheer. Dorothy’s hands shook as she handed first one and then another dainty cup to their very much mixed-up guests; and if at times her laughter was a little unusually gay for her, it was the only way she could keep back the tears which treacherously hung under her lashes. This was to have been her wedding night, she thought bitterly, between the sharp, witty sayings which kept them all convulsively laughing, and under the table she would press her hands together in an agony of terror, as the thought of what might possibly have happened came over her. She was doing all this to save him. Peter Black she knew was hidden down in the woods by the road Bobbie must pass. They were to go to Sallie Tom’s cabin and stay there until they heard from her. That was the message she had sent, and now every moment was precious, yet she could not hurry lest suspicions be aroused. Sallie Tom was still snorting over the fright of the ghost, nevertheless her supper was in no wise injured, and when she finally brought in a huge punch bowl filled to the brim with luscious, foaming eggnog, she was greeted by a clapping of hands. [Illustration: “Now confess you were frightened.”]