There is no time when man so realizes his helplessness as in the presence of great affliction. So now Peggy and Sally, wishing to give comfort but at a loss how to do so, withdrew a short distance from the stricken ones, then they too sat down. The girls were in sore need of consolation themselves, for they were faint and weary after the trying ordeal through which they had passed. It was therefore no wonder that through utter exhaustion they fell into slumber; for youth and weariness will assert themselves against the tyranny of nerve-racking stress. A slumber that was of short duration. A drop of rain splashed suddenly upon Peggy's hand causing her to start up in alarm. She looked about her quickly. The sky was covered by dark, lowering clouds which hung above them like a pall. The wind had veered to the east and a fiercer note had crept into its moaning. Instead of the soft lapping of the tide there was an angry menace in the waves breaking turbulently upon the shore. A storm was coming, and they were without shelter. The girl ran to Nurse Johnson and touched her gently. "'Tis going to rain," she cried, her clear young voice ringing out with startling suddenness. "Does thee not think that we should try to get somewhere, Friend Nurse?" Nurse Johnson glanced at her dully, then at sight of the overcast sky she rose hurriedly. "You are right, Peggy," she said. "'Tis time for action now. We must give way to grief no longer. Help me to rouse these women." A patter of rain which fell as she finished speaking, brought a realizing sense of the situation to the women, and bravely they rose to meet it. For one short hour they had indulged their sorrow. In the greatness of the calamity that had overwhelmed them there had seemed to come an end of everything. That Freedom might live they had been bereft of all, but life with its responsibilities still remained, so resolutely they put aside their woe to take up again the burden of living. Though loth to leave the bodies of the brave dead there was no alternative, so presently a sad procession wended its way into the Court House Road. As the forest was neared there issued from its confines a small body of armed men followed by several wagons. A cry of gladness burst from Sally at sight of the leader. "'Tis Friend Ashley," she cried. "Does thee not see, Peggy? 'Tis Friend Ashley!" It was indeed Thomas Ashley. Full of amazed incredulity, for they had believed him to be among the prisoners taken by the enemy, his wife, Nurse Johnson and the girls ran to greet him. "And Charley, father?" cried Mrs. Ashley. "Where is Charley?" "With Hannah's boy, in the hands of the British," he answered. "Now, now, mother! don't give way. Prisoners can be exchanged, so he is not lost to us. Others did not fare so well."