14
THE BATTALION.
Alpine to himself. “I don’t know why her voice thrills me
so. I have nothing to do with her hogkilling. What in the
world makes me so nervous tonight?”
Argue with himself as he might, however, the influence
upon him was too strong. Some strange presentiment kept
him from going back to the bed. He sat by the window,
looking out upon the stars in the sky above and the heavy
darkness below. An owl hooted presently in the woods be
yond. A few moments later, his great weariness got the bet
ter of his present uneasiness, and he sank into a disturbed
and dreamy sleep, his head resting on the cushioned back of
the chair.
How long he slept he could not tell, but he was roused by
the sound of a furtive step outside. Often a whisper will
wake one, when a loudly spoken word would fail to do so.
McAlpine was alert at once. A soldiers old habits are
very apt to linger long after peace has come. He kept per
fectly still, but listened intently. The sounds were catlike,
but he thought he could swear to the fact that some one had
crept to the door, had tried to look through the keyhole, had
listened there for some time and then had stolen softty away.
Whoever it was had seen nothing because of the darkness
and having heard nothing, had gone away convinced that the
traveler was sound asleep.
McAlpine waited now for something—he knew not what
to happen. He slipped very cautiously across the room to
the seat in which he had placed his clothes. Just as noise
lessly he dressed himself, and felt for his holsters and sad
dlebags so as to be sure that they were in reach. Just then
a gleam of moonlight fell within the room. Ah! the moon
was rising He hurried softly to the window, drew out his
watch, and ascertained the time. It was just one. Hardly
had he put it back into his pocket when a grating noise drew
his attention to the bed.
Horror! Below the beadstead flashed for one in
stant light and steamy vapor, and the next moment the bed