It was he who whispered word of warning, as his lips pressed their kisses on her soft and wavy hair. It was he who calmly hailed the guardian of the night, asking if further sign had been seen, adding, "Runners may well be coming in to-night, just as did 'Tonio." It was he who promptly, cordially answered Mrs. Archer, calling Lilian from the angle of the hospital, kneeling instantly as though to fasten a loosened bootlace. And then, as he presently led his silent captive back toward the parade, talked laughingly of the sentry's broken English, imitating so well the accent of the Rhineland. "No word of this just yet," he murmured, ere they reached the general's door, and saw that veteran hospitably awaiting them. "It is so sudden, so sweet a surprise. Come what may now, I shall not go until I have seen _you_ again. What, general? Sangaree? I'd like it above all things!" Two horsemen came trotting across the parade, threw themselves from saddle, and one stepped swiftly to the group, his hand at the hat brim in salute. "Well, sergeant, you _have_ been prompt!" the general was saying. "You have your letter for Captain Turner?--and Woodrow is to follow Captain Stannard? Good again! Do most of your trailing by night. The Apaches are cowards in the dark, and you can't miss the trail. God be with you, my men! Your names go to General Crook in my first report!" Another moment and they were away, and two more had taken their place--two who waited while Mrs. Stannard pencilled a few hurried words to her "Luce," while Lilian, with a world of rapture, thanksgiving and rejoicing in her heart, was striving to regain self-control, and avoid her mother's eye, a thing she never before had done, nor would she now be doing but for that splendid, knightly, heroic, self-poised, soldierly fellow, standing so commandingly, gracefully there, conferring one minute with her soldier father, and the next--helping Mrs. Archer to more small talk and sangaree. CHAPTER X. The night had gone by without alarm. No further signals were seen. No runners came in. Poor Mrs. Bennett, under the influence of some soothing medicine, had fallen asleep. The doctor, coming in late from a visit to the hospital, found Harris still wakeful, but not so feverish, and 'Tonio, worn and wearied, stretched on a Navajo blanket, seemed sleeping soundly on the side piazza, just without the door. The general and Willett had sat and smoked, with an occasional toddy, until after the midnight call of the sentries, the former still expectant of the return of Sanchez; the latter pondering in mind certain theories of Wickham as to the Apache situation, to which at first he had paid little heed. If Wickham were right, then Sanchez might never have reached Prescott. If so, the general need never have to amend that report.