Elizabeth sat on her doorstep at twilight. Her body was weary, but her mind was alert. She had shown Colonel Thomas the old map and he had looked at it with tears. “Slashed it out so they couldn’t get it, evidently with the first knife at hand!” Then Colonel Thomas had gone, his hand itching for his pen. Relieved of fear of punishment, Sheldon and his mates had told all they knew. Their bravado had vanished; they looked browbeaten and ashamed and even apologized for using the flag for a target. The constabulary had given back their guns and had smiled at Elizabeth’s gratitude. “It’s a new age, miss, and they know it.” Already Elizabeth had had two callers. The first was the farmer from down the road, who twisted his hat awkwardly. “Colonel Thomas, he stopped at my place,” he explained. “You might think he’d found a million dollars. I want to know when your trees are coming.” Elizabeth rose, frightening the farmer, who thought she was going to be resentful. “I’m going to call my brother,” said she. “He’s the boss of the orchard.” While the men talked, Elizabeth sat on the doorstep, her hands clasped round her knees. She smiled into the twilight, remembering with amusement a narrow escape. It had been on the tip of her tongue to say, when she had heard Herbert’s adventures, “Darling, weren’t you afraid?” and she had caught herself in time, realizing that neither “afraid” nor “darling” were words to say any more to Herbert. When the farmer had gone, Elizabeth thought of a blossoming orchard. Then a gaunt figure crossed the yard. Elizabeth had not seen Jinny, but she believed that this was Jinny before her. “We’ve heard tell that you spoke for us,” said a harsh, tired voice. “You said to every one assembled at the place of meetin’ this afternoon that not bein’ trusted makes folks wicked. You said you was goin’ to trust us. Now you have let your light shine, miss, don’t forsake us. There’s not many left of us, what with our airless houses an’ the tisic, but what there is is not so bad as you might expect. What I ask, miss, is that you will stand by us.” “I will,” promised Elizabeth. “And we by you,” said Jinny; and was gone. Elizabeth’s thoughts, following her, went back to John Baring, traveling the same dark road. “He led ’em here to deceive ’em!” Mammy Sheldon’s shrill old voice had cried. She saw him again standing in his doorway. She saw the moonlight and the torchlight and the horsemen, and heard the rumbling guns. “It was putting his brave head into a noose,” said Elizabeth. Then she remembered the cry of the old woman on the side road. “Why, you’re his image!” “I’m glad of that!” said Elizabeth to herself. * * * * * * Transcriber’s note: Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.