breaking down at the tone of the
master's son.

"You are lying, Phil! You would not have dared to come into the stable
if you had supposed the robbers were here."

"We was gwine to run away on de hosses," added a very black fellow.

"Don't know who shut de big doors, Mars'r, if de robbers don't do it,"
said another, who was evidently a field-hand.

"I didn't think there was more'n one of them here," added Phil, as he
held up a revolver with which he had armed himself after the departure
of the planter. "I meant to kill him, and get away with the horses."

"Perhaps you would have done so."

"I do it for sure."

"Now, where are the robbers?" asked Warren.

"In the house. We don't see any for more'n half an hour. I think they
looked part of the house over to find the money, and then went
up-stairs to hunt for it," replied Phil, who appeared to be an
intelligent fellow, far superior to the rest of them.

"Very well; you may get on the horses, and ride down the avenue till
you meet the colonel," added the son of the planter. "Now, Sergeant, we
will find the condition of things in the house."

The negroes led all the horses down an inclined plane into the cellar.
This was not an uncommon device in large cities to economize space; but
the planter had caused it to be built for just such an emergency as the
present, and he had made his escape in this manner from the estate. The
terrified servants mounted the horses in the cellar, and entered the
avenue by the way Warren and the sergeant had left it.

The two scouts passed out of the stable by the same door. Keeping
behind the outbuildings, they reached the side of the mansion. Passing
entirely around it, they looked in at every window very cautiously; but
were unable to see a single guerilla on the lower floor. By an outside
door they went into the cellar of the dwelling. They found several
places where the earth had been dug up, but not a man was to be seen.

"Now, Warren, I am going up-stairs; and I should like to have you
return to the avenue, and bring up the rest of our party as quickly as
possible," said Fronklyn in a low tone.

"Up-stairs!" exclaimed the planter's son. "Do you mean to throw away
your life?"

"Not if I know myself; but I wish the lieutenant was here," replied the
sergeant, who had noted the stairs that led to the next floor.

"I will do as you say, Sergeant; but I hardly expect to find you alive
when I come back," answered Warren.

"I