April and Dorothea sitting on a fallen log beside the road waited while the slowly passing minutes marked the gathering shadows or the night. The sun had set long since, and at the moment of its setting the sound of a distant rifle shot sent a tremor of apprehension through the girls, but neither dared acknowledge she had heard it. Words were of no avail in that tense hour of agonized waiting. In the mind of each was the one question that banished all other thoughts until it should be answered. “Had Val reached there in time?” They could not know until the young Captain returned, and so they waited in an agony of suspense. Uncle Jastrow and the boy worked over the horses, which slowly recovered from their heart-breaking race; but the girls were scarcely conscious of what went on about them. Their ears were strained to catch the first sounds of a galloping horse coming back over the road by which Val had departed. And each heard the distant thud of hoofs at the same instant. Dorothea turned to April and in her eyes read the strain that well-nigh had broken her cousin’s proud spirit. But a moment later both had jumped to their feet in a feverish glow of hope. Two horses, not one, were coming swiftly toward them and soon, galloping around the bend in the road ahead, they saw a single horseman followed, ten yards behind, by another. In an instant they recognized Lee Hendon in the lead. “April! April!” he shouted at the top of his voice and in the tone were notes of happiness and freedom. CHAPTER XXVIII LOOSE ENDS Mrs. Charles Stewart had prophesied many times that when the Union soldiers came to little Washington they would subject the people of the town to all sorts of humiliation and suffering. And there were many who shared this belief. But when these dreaded Yankees appeared they took good care not to molest the citizens, and Mrs. Stewart decided finally that for the time being there was no need of her going to Brazil or Mexico. With the Northern forces came a tall Union officer who very shortly after his arrival went to call at the Mays’. His visits were frequent, and in spite of the fact that he was an enemy, all of the May family came to have a respect for the quiet, gray-haired man who looked so earnestly and with such a longing gaze at Cousin Imogene. Dorothea had met him early one afternoon, coming up the drive, and bowed in acknowledgment of his salute as he reached her. “I am looking for Miss Imogene Ivory,” he said, with a note of eagerness in his voice. “Will you tell her please that General Stanchfield would be very glad to see her.” Dorothea made no effort to hide her surprise as she looked up at the big soldier and he, looking down, saw the question in her eyes. “Are you wondering what has become of Larry?” he asked with a smile. “I think you must be the young lady who helped him to escape.”