She said no more. She had not even raised her head when she spoke, and the sergeant and his men went into the garden. They looked everywhere but they damaged nothing. They did not even break off a single flower for themselves. Dick had felt confident that after the failure to find the sharpshooter in the house he would be discovered there, but his net brought in no fish. He glanced at the sergeant, who happened to glance at him at the same time. Each read the look in the eyes of the other. Each said that they had failed, that they were wasting time, that there was nothing to be gained by hunting longer for a single enemy, that it was time to ride on, as flankers on the right of the main column. "Madame," said Dick politely, "we leave you now. I repeat my regret at being compelled to search your house in this manner. My duty required it, although we have found nobody." "You found nobody because nobody is here." "Evidently it is so. Good-by. We wish you well." "Good-by. I hope that all of you will be shot by our brave troops before night!" The wish was uttered with the most extraordinary energy and fierceness. For the first time she had raised her level tone, and the lifted eyes that looked into Dick's were blazing with hate. He uttered an exclamation and stepped back. Then he recovered himself and said politely: "Madame, I do not wish any such ill to you or yours." But she had resumed her knitting, and Dick, without another word, walked out of the house, followed by the sergeant and his men. "I did not know a woman could be so vindictive," he said. "Our army has killed two of her sons," said the sergeant. "To her we, like all the rest of our troops, are the men who killed them." "Perhaps that is so," said Dick thoughtfully, as he remounted. They rode beside the walk and out at the open gate. Dick carried a silver whistle, upon which he blew a signal for the rest of his men to join them, and then he and the sergeant went slowly up the road. He was deeply chagrined at the escape of the rifleman, and the curse of the woman lay heavily upon him. "I don't see how it was done," he said. "Nor I," said the sergeant, shaking his head. There was a sharp report, the undoubted whip-like crack of a rifle, and a man just behind, uttering a cry, held up a bleeding arm. Dick had a lightning conviction that the bullet was intended for himself. It was certain also that the shot had come from the house. "Back with me, sergeant!" he exclaimed. "We'll get that fellow yet!" They galloped back, sprang from their horses, and rushed in, followed by the original little troop that had entered, Dick shouting a direction to the others to remain outside. The fierce little old woman was sitting as before by the table, knitting, and she had never appeared more the great lady. "Once was enough," she said, shooting him a glance of bitter contempt.