information of value to the enemy, and I regard his death or
capture of high and immediate importance. I am informed that the
young desperado who murdered my Lord of Pickford in the forest
below Clayton June 29, escaping, although badly wounded, is lying
at the country-seat of the Baroness de Ferre, a Frenchwoman, at
Leraysville, Jefferson County, New York. It would gratify me if
you could accomplish one or both captures. With respect, I am,

"Your Obedient Servant,
"R. SHEAFFER, _General Commanding_."

"They 'll be here," said D'ri. "They 'll be here jest es sure es
God--'fore daylight, mebbe. But I can't fight er dew nothin' till
I 've tied some vittles."

"You shall have supper," said the baroness, who, without delay,
went to the kitchen herself with a servant to look after it. The
butler brought a pair of slippers and a dry coat, while I drew off
the boots of my good friend. Then I gave him my arm as he limped
to the kitchen beside me. The baroness and I sat near him as he
ate.

"Go upstairs and call the gentlemen," said she to the butler, "Do
not make any disturbance, but say I should like to speak with them
in the dining room."

"Is thet air hired man o' yours a Britisher?" D'ri inquired as
soon as the butler was gone.

"He is--from Liverpool," said she.

"Thet's the hole 'n the fence," said he. "Thet's where the goose
got away."

"The goose! The geese!" said the baroness, thoughtfully. "I do
not understand you."

"Went 'n' blabbed, thet's whut he done," said D'ri. "Mebbe wrote
'em a letter, gol-dum his pictur'."

"Oh, I perceive! I understand," said she; "and I send him away
to-morrow."

"Neck's broke with hunger," said D'ri. "Never threw no vittles 'n
my basket with sech a splendid taste tew 'em es these hev."

The baroness looked at him with some show of worry.

"I beg your pardon," said she, "did you say the neck of you was
broken?"

I explained the idiom.

"Ain't hed nothin' t' eat since day 'fore yistiddy," said D'ri.
"Judas Priest! I 'm all et up with hunger."

With old Burgundy and biscuit and venison and hot coffee he was
rapidly reviving.

"I 'm wondering where I will hide you both," said the baroness,
thoughtfully.

"Hed n't orter hev no rumpus here, 'n' go t' shootin' 'n' mebbe
spile yer house 'n' furnicher," said D'ri. "'T ain't decent er 't
ain't nice. We 'd better mek tracks an' put a mild er tew 'twixt
us 'n' here 'fore we hev any trouble. 'T a