We bowed ceremoniously, and the next moment Mrs. Brennan and I were out upon the steps, breathing the cool night air. I glanced curiously at her face as the gleam of light fell upon it--how calm and reserved she appeared, and yet her eyes were aglow with intense excitement. At the foot of the steps she glanced up at the dark, projecting roof far above us. “Do you suppose he can possibly be up there yet?” she asked, in a tone so low as to be inaudible to the ears of the sentry. “Who? Bungay?” I questioned in surprise, for my thoughts were elsewhere. “Oh, he was like a cat, and there are trees at the rear. Probably he is safe long ago, or else a prisoner once more.” Beyond the gleam of the uncovered windows all was wrapped in complete darkness, save that here and there we could distinguish the dull red glare of camp-fires where the company cooks were yet at work, or some sentry post had been established. All the varied sounds of a congested camp at night were in the air--the champing and pounding of horses, the murmur of men's voices, the distant rumbling of heavy wagons, with an occasional shout, and the noise of axes. It was also evident, from the numerous flitting lanterns, like so many glow-worms, the late labors of the cooks, and other unmistakable signs, that active preparations for an early movement were already well under way. We turned sharply to the left, and proceeded down a comparatively smooth road, which seemed to me to possess a rock basis, it felt so hard. From the position of the stars I judged our course to be eastward, but the night was sufficiently obscured to shroud all objects more than a few yards distant. Except for the varied camp noises on either side of us the evening was oppressively still, and the air had the late chill of high altitudes. Mrs. Brennan pressed more closely to me as we passed beyond the narrow zone of light, and unconsciously we fell into step together. “Are you chilled?” I asked, bending my head toward her. “Not in the least; but I must confess to nervousness.” I think we both recalled my wrapping her in the flapping cavalry cloak the night we were first alone together, for she added quickly: “I am quite warmly clothed, and have not far to go.”