Ten paces to the right he found the gate and his heart gave a sudden jump of relief.

Half a minute more and it was open.

He propped it securely against the beat of the storm with the club he had taken from Bram Johnson's bed.
Then he turned back to the cabin, with the little revolver clutched in his hand, and his face was strained and haggard when he found the door and returned again into the glow of the candle-light.

In the center of the room, her face as white as his own, stood Celie.

A great fear must have gripped her, for she stood there in her sleeping gown with her hands clutched at her breast, her eyes staring at him in speechless questioning.