That soldier who was shot, what's his name ?--Miles, he--but, however, it doesn't matter.

It's all over now." "The men will confess before morning," says Vickers, "and we'll see." And he went off to his wife's cabin.
His wife opened the door for him.

She had been sitting by the child's bedside, listening to the firing, and waiting for her husband's return without a murmur.

Flirt, fribble, and shrew as she was, Julia Vickers had displayed, in times of emergency, that glowing courage which women of her nature at times possess.

Though she would yawn over any book above the level of a genteel love story; attempt to fascinate, with ludicrous assumption of girlishness, boys young enough to be her sons; shudder at a frog, and scream at a spider, she could sit throughout a quarter of an hour of such suspense as she had just undergone with as much courage as if she had been the strongest-minded woman that ever denied her sex.