However this may be, when I once again aroused to observe my
surroundings, the faint gray light of early dawn rested upon the
outside world, and through the fleeting shadows of the mist I was able
to distinguish much which before had been shrouded by the black
curtain. In front of the window where I rested, the grass-covered lawn
sloped gradually downward until it terminated at a low picket fence,
thickly covered with vines. A great variety of shrubs, which during the
night had doubtless afforded shelter for sharpshooters, dotted this
grass plot, while beyond the fence boundary stood a double row of large
trees. To the far left of our position the burnt stable yet smouldered
dully, occasionally sending up a shower of sparks as a draught of air
fanned the embers, but there were few signs of life visible. For the
moment I even hoped our enemies might have grown discouraged and
withdrawn.

"What has become of the guerillas?" I asked in wonderment, turning as I
spoke to face the Federal corporal who lay on the other side of me. "Is
it possible they have given up?"

"I think not, Captain," he replied respectfully, saluting as he would
one of his own officers. "They were there just before the light came,
and I saw a dozen or more stealing along behind the fence not five
minutes ago. See, there is a squad of them now, huddled together back
of where the stable stood."

I noticed them as he spoke, and their movements instantly aroused my
suspicion.

"Screw your eye close to the corner of the pane," I ordered hurriedly,
"and see what you make out toward the front of the house."