The
whole trick fitted in with the man's type of mind. And he could have
come in the same way I had, sneaking through the unguarded
kitchen--why, in the name of Heaven, had Miles neglected to place a
guard there?--and then up the servants' stairs. I dried my face on a
towel, rejoicing that the derringer blow had left little damage, and
opened the door leading to the upper story. It was a narrow stairway,
rather dark, but the first thing to catch my eye was a small clod of
yellow dirt on the second step, and this was still damp--the foot from
which it had fallen must have passed within a very short time. I had the
fellow--had him like a rat in a trap. Oh, well, there was time enough,
and I closed the door and locked it.
I talked with the sergeant, and had him send Foster to watch the kitchen
door, and detail a couple of men for cooks, with orders to hurry up
breakfast. Miles had seen nothing of Le Gaire, and when Hardy and Bell
returned, they acknowledged having discovered no trace of the fugitive.
I let them talk, saying little myself, endeavoring to think out the
peculiar situation, and determine what I had better do. Already there
was heavy cannonading off to the right, but at considerable distance.
The battle was on, and might sweep this way before many hours, yet I
could no longer doubt the complete withdrawal of Confederate troops from
the neighborhood.
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