at this moment the door of the principal room of the cabin
was heard to move slightly ajar, and the voice of Adair, in a whisper,
reached the girl's ear.

"Hist, Michael! In the devil's name what brought you back? Why do you
loiter, when time is so precious?"

A long, heavy, and inarticulate exclamation, such as belongs to
disturbed sleep, escaped from Butler.

"Father of heaven, I shall let the window fall with fright!" inwardly
ejaculated Mary, as she still occupied her uneasy station. "Hush, it is
the voice of my uncle."

There was a painful pause.

A heavy rush of wind agitated the trees, and sweeping along the porch
caused some horse-gear that was suspended against the wall to vibrate
with a rustling noise: the sound pierced Mary's ear like the accents of
a ghost, and her strength had well nigh failed her from
faint-heartedness.

"I thought it was Michael," said Adair, speaking to some one within,
"but it is only the rattling of harness and the dreaming of Drummer.
These dogs have a trick of whining and growling in their sleep according
to a way of their own. They say a dog sometimes sees a spirit at night.
But man or devil it's all one to old Drummer! Sleep quiet, you
superfluous, and have done with your snoring!"

With these words, the door was again closed, and Mary, for the moment,
was released from suffering.

"Remember," she uttered in the most fear-stricken tone, as she lowered
the sash. "Be sure to take the left hand road at the first fork!"

"In God's name, what is it? Where are you?" was the exclamation heard by
Mary as the window was closing. She did not halt for further parley or
explanation, but now hastily stole back, like a frightened bird towards
its thicket. Panting and breathless, she regained her chamber, and with
the utmost expedition betook herself again to bed, where, gratified by
the consciousness of having done a good action, and fully trusting that
her caution would not be disregarded, she gradually dismissed her
anxiety, and, before the hour of dawning, had fallen into a gentle
though not altogether unperturbed slumber.

CHAPTER XV.

HORSE SHOE AND BUTLER RESUME THEIR JOURNEY, WHICH IS DELAYED BY A SAVAGE
INCIDENT.

Morning broke, and with the first day-streak Robinson turned out of his
bed, leaving Butler so thoroughly bound in the spell of sleep, that he
was not even moved by the loud and heavy tramp of the sergeant, as that
weighty personage donned his clothes. H