him out into the night, and a dark and dismal night it was;
the snow was falling heavily and you could not see three rods away.

"We will follow the pike," said he, "until we see their camp-fire.
They will not keep strict watch to-night, and we will have to keep in
touch with the landmarks."

We trudged along through the snow past the outpost where I had
commanded so many nights, keeping the vigils by the weary hours; then
we became more careful, as the Highland outpost was but a few yards
away.

"They will have their backs to the storm," said the spy, "and though
it is dangerous to go to the windward of a foe, yet he is not so apt
to hear us as he would be to see us if we tried the leeward side.
Those Highlanders have keen eyes."

So we flanked the outpost to the windward and passed them safely, and
then Jones led me by many little bypaths and lanes until we came to
the outskirts of the town. And though the guard at one time could have
touched us as they passed, so dense was the storm that never for a
moment was our safety jeoparded.

At last the houses became closer and we found ourselves in the town,
while every now and then a belated traveller met us, glanced our way
and passed on, for by now it was far into the night. But when we
reached the heart of the town, even at that hour, the streets became
filled with carriages, and we met many officers and gentlemen,
returning from a ball. My Lord Howe entertained that night, and it
was a sign of loyalty and good faith for every one to attend.

Though I became interested in seeing the muffled figures pass us, and
the carriages hurrying through the street, I grew uneasy as I saw that
Jones was making his way to the centre of the town, to the very door
of Lord Howe's mansion. At last I remonstrated with him, but Jones
growled in answer: "How can you throw the dogs off your track, if the
snow does not fill it, but by mixing it with other tracks?"

This was unanswerable. I followed him along the street until we were
among the crowd before Lord Howe's door.

It was a gay and brilliant scene, that ball of my Lord Howe, and
though it was near the end, the music of the dance still floated
through the wide entrance, while the figures of the dancers flitted
across the windows, which were ablaze with lights. The guests were
fast leaving; fair ladies and officers bravely uniformed were coming
down the steps. There was a calling of carriages and of names, the
slamming of door