By now the whole house was roused. Lights were moving about in the upper part, and the negroes, excited and with a strange mixture of triumph and timidity, had begun to collect in and about the house. In five minutes every one of the Harrowby house except Angela was down in the great hall, which was full of soldiers, with a few officers among them. The commanding officer made an apology to Mrs. Tremaine and the ladies for disturbing them, but pleaded the exigencies of war. He permitted Mrs. Tremaine to make up, out of Colonel Tremaine’s scanty wardrobe, a parcel of clothing for Colonel Gratiot, who was a head shorter and even narrower than Colonel Tremaine. Colonel Gratiot’s horse, saddled and bridled, was found and carried on board the gunboat, as the sergeant facetiously remarked, for the Colonel to ride. The game being bagged, Colonel Gratiot was marched on board, and in a few minutes not a Federal soldier remained at Harrowby as the gunboat churned its way down the river in the darkness. Up to that moment, so great had been the excitement and so quick had been the movements of the Federals that no one had asked or even thought of Angela’s whereabouts. But suddenly Lyddon spoke: “Where is Angela?” No one could answer, so Lyddon, taking a candle in his hand, went quietly upstairs and along the corridor until he reached her door, when he knocked loudly on it. Angela’s voice from within replied like the starling: “I can’t get out! The key is broken in the lock.” Lyddon took out his penknife and in half a minute had unlocked the door. Angela came out of the room, her rich fair hair falling loose about her shoulders. She had huddled on a skirt and concealed the deficiencies of her toilet with her red mantle. “What has happened?” she asked excitedly and seizing Lyddon’s arm. “I heard the most terrible noise, and looked out of the window, and saw that the place was full of soldiers, and then I slipped on my clothes and tried to get out and couldn’t. You can’t imagine how terrible it was to be shut up there and know that something dreadful was happening outside.” “Nothing particularly dreadful has happened,” replied Lyddon, calmly. “Colonel Gratiot has been bagged, that is all. A gunboat with a lot of soldiers was sent after him.” By that time they were at the stairs, and Angela, running lightly down, joined the group in the hall. As soon as she reached the hall, which was dimly lighted by a couple of candles on the mantelpiece, everybody began to talk to her at once except Adrienne, who remained, as always, beautifully composed. Even Mrs. Tremaine became excited, while Madame Isabey poured out her feelings in English, French, and Spanish. Archie interjected his account, while Hector bawled above them all: