Whately could only give the man such directions as the emergency dictated, obtain some valuables, and return chafed and all the more bent upon securing out of the possible wreck the one object he most coveted. But Miss Lou puzzled him and perplexed them all. She had taken refuge in almost absolute silence, and was as unresponsive to Mrs. Whately's endearments as to her uncle and aunt's expostulations, while toward Whately she was positively freezing in her coldness. Troubled and inwardly enraged, he was yet more than ever determined to carry out his purpose. His orders to his men were given sharply and sternly, and his mood was so fierce that there was no longer any affectation or assumption on his part. The girl's heart fluttered with nameless fears, but she had the strength of will to maintain the cold, impassive demeanor she had resolved upon. She felt that it would be useless to make further effort to influence her kindred, and that if she revealed her purpose to appeal to the clergyman, they might so prejudice his mind against her that he would not listen favorably. Fearing that this might be the case anyway, she found her thoughts turning with increasing frequency to the possible intervention of the Union scout. She both hoped for and feared his coming, supported as he would be, in this instance, by followers who might be so different from himself. She could not free her mind from the influence of the stories about Northern soldiers, and yet she was sure that as far as his power went, they would all be protected. Indeed, one danger menaced so closely and threateningly she could scarcely think of anything else than escape and relief from it. As the sun began to sink in the west her uncle came to her door and said authoritatively, "Louise, I wish you to come down."