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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Love under Fire"

I never recall feeling cooler, or more
determined in my life. How still, how deathly still it was!
"Th--"
There was a thud of horses' hoofs behind the stable, Bell's half-spoken
word, and the sharp bark of Le Gaire's levelled derringer. I felt the
impact of the ball, and spun half around, the pressure of my finger
discharging my own weapon in the air, yet kept my feet. I was shocked,
dazed, but conscious I remained unhurt. Then, with a crash, three
horsemen leaped the low fence, riding recklessly toward us. I seemed to
see the gray-clad figures through a strange mist, which gradually
cleared as they came to a sharp halt. The one in advance was a gaunt,
unshaven sergeant, lifting a hand in perfunctory salute, and glancing
curiously at my uniform.
"Mornin', gentlemen," he said briefly. "Is this the Hardy
house--Johnston's headquarters?"
The major answered, and I noticed now he had Le Gaire gripped by the
arm.
"This is the Hardy house, and I am Major Hardy, but Johnston is not
here. Who are you?"
"Couriers from Chambers' column, sir. He is advancing up this pike.
Where will we find Johnston?"
"Take the first road to your right, and inquire. When will Chambers be
up?"
"Within four or five hours. What's going on here? A little affair?"
Hardy nodded.


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