"I--I almost believed the same thing," she confessed, speaking swiftly. "As I said, it did not seem exactly real from the first, yet I had to trust my own eyes, and I saw him almost as plainly as I see you two now. Then he was gone; gone so quickly I could not conceive the possibility of it. The whole affair appeared imaginary, a matter of nerves. It was an hallucination; out of my own brain, it seemed, I had conjured up that crouching figure. I had overheard your roll-call, and realized no trooper could have been there. I even convinced myself that it was all a fantasy. I was so certain of it that I stole out into the hall, and peered down the back stairs. I was frightened, so frightened I shook from head to foot, but it was because my nerves were all unstrung. I was sure by this time there had been no one there, and forced myself to investigate. I saw nothing, heard nothing, and step by step advanced clear to the back window, and looked out. Then, without the slightest warning, something was thrown over my head, and I was utterly helpless in the vice-like clutch of an arm. I cannot explain how startled, how helpless I was. It occurred so suddenly I could not even cry out, could scarcely struggle. I was instantly stifled, and left weak as a child. I know I did make an effort to break away, but the cloth was clutched closer about my face, and the assailant's grip hurled me to the floor. The horror was more intense because he never uttered a sound; because I was in the dark, my mind still dazed by conjecture, and--and I fainted." The dramatic intensity with which she told this held us speechless. Her hands were to her face, and I took them away, holding them tightly. "Go on, Billie," I urged gently. "It was a man then, after all."