A red sky it found at the horizon; a chill wind starting up over a purple earth spangled with golden camp-fires. Presently the world was sunk in a slate-tinted gloom, and the night came on raw and dark, with moon and stars showing only in infrequent glimpses through gusty clouds. A great fire had burned out on the library hearth; the group had genially sat together till the candles were guttering in their sockets in the old crystal-hung candelabra. Judge Roscoe still lingered, smoking, meditating before the embers. All the house was asleep, silent save for the martial tread of the sentry walking to and fro before the portico. Suddenly Judge Roscoe heard a sound, alien, startling,--a sound at the side window. The room was illumined by a pervasive red glow from the embers, in which he saw his own shadow, gigantic, gesticulatory, as he rose to his feet, listening again to--silence! Only the wind rustling in the lilac hedge, only the ring of the sentry's step, crisp and clear on the frosty air. The moment that the soldier turned to retrace his way to the farther side of the house, there came once more that grating sound at the window, distinct, definite, of sinister import. For one instant Judge Roscoe was tempted to call for the sentry's aid. The next the shutter opened, the sash glided up noiselessly, and, as the old gentleman gazed spellbound with starting eyes and chin a-quiver, a tiny flame flickered up, keenly white amongst the embers, illuminating the room, revealing the object at the window. Only for one moment; for in a frenzy of energy Judge Roscoe had caught up the heavy velvet rug and, as he held it against the aperture of the chimney, the room once more sunk into indistinguishable gloom; the sudden bounding entrance of an agile figure was wholly invisible to the sentry, albeit he was almost immediately under the window, peering in with a stern "Who goes there?" "There seems something amiss with the catch of the shutter," said the placid voice of the master of the house, who had left the rug still standing on its thick edge before the chimney place. "Can you help me there? Thank you very much." The sentry muttered a sheepish apology, pleading the unusual noise at this hour. His excuse was cheerfully accepted. "It is well to be on the alert. Good night!" "Good night, sir!" And once more there sounded through the sombre air the martial beat of the sentry's tread on the frosty ground. Then two men in the darkness within, reaching out in the gloom, fell into each other's arms with tears of joy, but presently reproaches too. "Oh, my son, my son! why did you come here?" "Came a-visiting!" said a voice out of the obscurity, with a boy's buoyant laughter. "The picket-lines are so close to-night, I couldn't resist slipping in. Is Leonora here? How are my dear little nieces,--the 'ladies'?" "Oh, Julius! My boy, this is so dangerous!"