But he could yet hear nothing, save the wind stirring the leaves and the grass.
Inside the little cabin it grew dark, too, but their trained eyes, becoming used to the gloom, were able to see each other well enough for all the needs of the defense.
Time passed slowly on, and to Paul every moment was tense and vivid.

The darkness was far more suggestive of danger than the day had been.

He took his eyes now and then from the loophole, for a moment, to glance at Henry's face, and about the third or fourth time he saw a sudden light leap into the eyes of his comrade.

The next instant Henry thrust his rifle into the loophole and, taking quick aim, fired.
A long, quavering cry arose, and after that came a silence that lay very still and deadly upon Paul's soul.

Henry had seen in the shadow a deeper shadow quiver, and he had fired instantly but with deadly aim.