Let the storm burst! It might drive on the wide roof of the piazza
and the steady beating sound would make his sleep all the sounder and
sweeter. He recalled, as millions of American lads have done, the days
when he lay in his bed just under the roof and heard hail and sleet drive
against it, merely to make him feel all the snugger in the bed with his
covers drawn around him.

The fitful gusts of rain ceased, and then it came with a steady pour and
roar, driving directly down, thus leaving the men on the outer edges of
the piazzas untouched and dry. Still, Dick did not sleep, and at last he
arose and walked softly into the house. Here the sense of danger grew
stronger. He was reminded again of his early boyhood, when some one
blindfolded was told to find a given object, and the others called "hot"
when he was near or "cold" when he was away. He was feeling hot now.
That inherited sense, the magnetic feeling out of the past, was warning
him.

Dick felt sure that some one not of their regiment was in the building.
He neither saw nor heard the least sign of a presence, but he was
absolutely certain that he was not alone within Bellevue. Since the
lightning had ceased it was pitchy dark inside. There was a wide hall
running through the building, with windows above the exits, but he saw
nothing through them save the driving rain and the dim outline of the
threshing trees.

He turned into one of the side rooms, and then he paused and pushed
himself against the wall. He was sure now that he heard a soft footstep.
The darkness was so intense that it could be felt like a mist. He waited
but he did not hear it again, and then he began to make his way around
the wall, stepping as lightly as he could.