Boggs were there.

Silas Zane half reclined on the grass.

The Colonel's wife stood in the door-way, and Betty sat on the lower step with her head leaning against her brother's knee.

They all had grave faces.
Jonathan Zane had returned that day after an absence of three weeks, and was now answering the many questions with which he was plied.
"Don't ask me any more and I'll tell you the whole thing," he had just said, while wiping the perspiration from his brow.

His face was worn; his beard ragged and unkempt; his appearance suggestive of extreme fatigue.