side of the hill, and there
are only two stories on the front," replied Warren.

Both of the riders dismounted; and, after securing the horses to the
trees, they walked to the stable. The lower part was a cellar in the
side-hill, and appeared to be used as a place for storage. The
planter's son led the way into this apartment, and then mounted the
stairs leading to the middle story. There were half a dozen horses
there, and stalls for as many more. The doors were wide open, and the
pickets, or scouts, moved about very carefully.

Warren then looked out of the doors and windows; but not a person could
be seen, except some negro men and women, who appeared to be skulking
about the premises, apparently ready to run away in case of danger. The
sergeant and the rifleman had both unslung their firearms, and were
ready for business if they discovered any of the marauders. The
planter's son then ascended to the hayloft, and from the windows there
surveyed all that could be seen of the premises from them.

"We don't get ahead much," said Warren, as he descended the stairs. "I
must get at one of the servants, though they all seem to keep out of
harm's way."

"It is time for us to know the situation here," replied Fronklyn, as he
followed his companion down the stairs.

As a matter of precaution, Warren closed the great doors, though a
smaller one was left open on one side of them. They found that all the
horses in the stable were saddled and bridled for use. While he was
wondering what this meant, a dozen blacks rushed in through the open
door. They seemed to be greatly alarmed.

Adjoining the stable on each side were the carriage-houses; and Warren
hastened into one of them, supposing that the marauders were pursuing
them; but no enemy followed them. The negroes went into the stalls, and
began to lead out the horses.

"What does all that mean, Warren?" asked Fronklyn in a whisper.

"I don't know," replied the planter's son, as he cocked his rifle, and
returned to the stable. "What are you about here?" he demanded.

"Mars'r Warren!" exclaimed several of them.

"What are you going to do with the horses, Phil?" asked Warren.

"Who shut the big doors, Mars'r Warren?" asked Phil, who appeared to be
an upper servant of some kind.

"What are you going to do with the horses, Phil?" exclaimed the
planter's son angrily.

"I thought the robbers had got into the stable, and I wanted to save
the horses," replied the servant,