What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. So far as regards his attire, Baptist was not seen to advantage. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. "Is she alive?" "She is not," replied Trenchard, overcome by conflicting emotions, and unable to endure the boy's agonized look. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes.
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