Hit's God's judgement on 'em." Rachel turned to Fortner.

"What will come next?
Will this end it?
Will the Rebels fall back and leave this place ?" "Hardly.

This's on'y like the fust slap in the face in a fight atween two big savage men, who've locked horns ter see which is the best man.
Hit's on'y a sorter limberin' the jints fur the death rassel." "Yes; and what next ?" "Well, Rosy's started fur this 'ere place, an' he's bound ter come heah.

Bragg's bound he sha'n't come heah, an' is gittin' his men back to defend the town." "What am I--what are we to do in the meanwhile ?" "Ye're ter do nothin', on'y stay in the house ez close ez ye kin, an' wait tell the chance comes ter use ye.

Hit may be ter-morrer, an' hit mayn't be fur some days.