“This is a little hard on me, Shelby,” he said, his tone asking sympathy. “I have but lately come from a sick-bed, and I fear greatly this rain will throw me into a fever.” He looked very longingly at the house. I fear there was some malice in me then, for he had put aspersions upon my courage earlier in the day, which perhaps he had a right to do, not knowing my secret motives. “The weather is a trifle bad, one must admit, lieutenant,” I said, “but you and I will not mind it; moreover, the darkness of the night demands greater vigilance on our part.” He said nothing, merely rattled his teeth together and walked on with what I admit was a brave show for a man shaking in a bad chill. As his assistant I could go and come pretty much as I chose, and I kept him in view, bent on seeing what he would do. He endured the chill most handsomely for quite a time, but the wet and the cold lent aggravation to it, and presently he turned to me, his teeth clicking together in most formidable fashion. “I fear, Shelby, that I must seek shelter in the house,” he said. “I would stick to the watch out here, but this confounded chill has me in its grip and will not let go. But, as you have done good work here and I would not seem selfish, you shall go in with me.” I understood his motive, which was to provide that in case he should incur censure for going into the house, I could share it and divide it with him. It was no very admirable action on Belt’s part, but I minded it not; in truth I rather liked it, for since he was to be in the house, I preferred to be there too, and at the same time, and not for matters concerning my health. I decided quickly that I must seem his friend and give him sympathy; in truth I was not his enemy at all; I merely found him inconvenient. We went again to the front door and knocked many times before any answer came to us. Then two heads--the one of Mistress Kate, the other of her mother--were thrust out of an upper window and the usual question was propounded to us. “Lieutenant Belt is very ill,” I said, taking the word from his lips, “and needs must have shelter from the cruelty of the night. We would not trouble you were not the case extreme.” I could see that Belt was grateful for the way I had put the matter. Presently they opened the door, both appearing there for the sake of company at that hour, I suppose. Belt tried to preserve an appearance in the presence of the ladies, but he was too sick. He trembled with his chill like a sapling in a high wind, and I said: “Lieutenant Belt’s condition speaks for itself; nothing else could have induced us to intrude upon you at such an untimely hour.” I fancy I said that well, and both Madame Van Auken and her daughter showed pity for Belt; yet the elder could not wholly repress a display of feeling against us. “We can not turn any one ill, not even an enemy, away from our door,” she said, “but I fear the rebel armies have left us little for the uses of hospitality.”