or a long
half mile, to end at a little clearing on the banks of a small stream.

In the midst of the clearing was a rude log cabin; and in the open
doorway stood a man bent and aged, a patriarchal figure with white hair
falling to his shoulders and a snowy beard such as Aaron might have
worn. At sight of me the old watcher disappeared within the house, but a
moment later he was out again, fingering the lock of an ancient
Queen's-arm.

I drew rein quickly, and the little maid sat up and saw the musket.

"Don't shoot, gran'dad!" she cried. "He's Cappy Jack, and he doesn't
eat folkses."

At this the old man came to meet us, though still with the clumsy musket
held at the ready.

"These be parlous times, sir," he said, half in apology, I thought. And
then: "You have made friends with my little maid, and I owe you somewhat
for bringing her safe home."

"Nay," said I; "the debt is mine, inasmuch as I have the little one for
my friend. 'Tis long since I have held a trusting child in my arms, I do
assure you, sir."

He bowed as grandly as any courtier. "I hope her trust is not misplaced,
sir; though for the matter of that, we have little enough now to take or
leave."

"You have given it all to the king?" said I, feeling my way as I had
need to.

His eyes flashed and he drew himself up proudly.

"The king has taken all, sir, as you see," this with a wave of the hand
to point me to the forlorn homestead. "There is naught left me save this
poor hut and my little maid."

"'Taken,' you say? Then you are not of the king's side?"

He came a step nearer and faced me boldly. "Listen, sir: two of my sons
were left on the bloody field of Camden, and the butcher Banastre
Tarleton slew the other two at Fishing Creek. A month since a band of
roving savages, armed with King George's muskets, mind you, sir, came
down upon us at Northby, and this little maid's mother--"

He stopped and choked; and the child looked up into my face with her
blue eyes full of nameless terror. "Oh, I want my mammy!" she said.
"Won't you find her for me, Cappy Jack?"

I slipped from the saddle, still clasping the little one tightly in my
arms.

"Enough, sir," I said, when I could trust myself to speak. "This same
King George's minions have made me a homeless outcast, too. I live but
to give some counter stroke, if I may."

"Ha!" said the old man, starting back; "then you are for our side? But
your uniform--"

"Is that of an Austrian officer,