They could neither see nor hear anything hostile.
Drifting clouds still hid the moon and stars, and a swish of light, cold rain came now and then.
There were piazzas on both sides of the house, and a porch in the rear.
Colonel Kenton disposed his men deftly in order to meet the foe at any point.

The stone pillars would afford protection for the riflemen.
He, his son and old Judge Kendrick, held the portico in front.
Harry crouched behind a pillar, his fingers on the trigger of a rifle, and his holster containing the big double-barreled pistols lying at his feet.

Impressionable, and with a horror of injustice, his heart was filled with rage.

It was merely a band of outlaws who were coming to plunder and destroy his beautiful home and to kill any who resisted.
He had respected those who held Sumter so long, but these fought only for their own hand.
A slight sound came from the road, a little distance to the south.
He waited until it was repeated and then he was sure.
"They're out there," he whispered to his father at the next pillar.
"I heard them," replied the colonel.

"They'll come upon the lawn, hiding behind the pines, and hoping to surprise the house.