She was on the front seat, close to the window; against the lightness of the outer sky, her head seemed lying upon the wooden frame.

She did not move, he could not even tell that she breathed, and for an instant his dry lips failed him utterly, his blood seemed to stop.

Good God! Had she been killed also?
How, in Heaven's name, did she ever get there?
Then suddenly she lifted her head slightly, brushing back her hair with one arm; the faint starlight gleamed on a short steel barrel.

The Sergeant expelled his breath swiftly, wetting his dry lips.
"Are you hurt ?" he questioned anxiously.

"Lord, but you gave me a scare!" She seemed to hear his voice, yet scarcely to understand, like one aroused suddenly from sleep.
"What! you spoke--then--then--there are others?
I--I am not here all alone ?" "Not if you count me," he said, a trace of recklessness in the answer.
"I have n't even a scratch so far as I know.