Whatever it is, it is what I saw--or what that _something_, exterior to my body, recognised.
"Perhaps these human eyes of mine did not see her.

Something that belongs to me saw the immortal visitor; something, that is the vital part of me, saw, recognised, and was recognised." For a long while they sat there, silent; the booming guns shook the window; the clatter and uproar of the passing waggon train filled their ears.
Suddenly the house rocked under the stunning crash of a huge gun.
Celia sprang to her feet, caught at the curtain as another terrific blast shivered the window-panes and filled the room with acrid dust.
Through the stinging clouds of powdered plaster Colonel Craig entered the room, hastily pulling on his slashed coat as he came.
"There's a fort in the rear of us--don't be frightened, Celia.

I think they must be firing at----" His voice was drowned in the thunder of another gun; Celia made her way to him, hid her face on his breast as the room shook again and the plaster fell from the ceiling, filling the room with blinding dust.
"Oh, Curt," she gasped, "this is dreadful.

Philip cannot stay here----" "Better pull the sheets over his head," said her husband, meeting Berkley's eyes with a ghost of a smile.

"It won't last long; and there are no rebel batteries that can reach Paigecourt." He kissed her.