I believe in dreams. There is something
wrong here," continued the sergeant, after pondering over the matter for
a few moments, and shaking his head, "there is something wrong here,
Major Butler, as sure as you are born. I wasn't idle in making my own
observations: first, I didn't like the crossness of Wat's wife last
night; then, the granny there, she raved more like an old witch, with
something wicked in her that wouldn't let her be still, than like your
decent old bodies when they get childish. What did she mean by her
palaver about golden guineas in Wat's pocket, and the English officer?
Such notions don't come naturally into the head, without something to go
upon. And, moreover, when I turned out this morning, before it was
cleverly day, who do you think I saw?"

"Indeed I cannot guess."

"First, Wat walking up the road with a face like a man that had sot a
house on fire; and when I stopped him to ax what he was after, down
comes Mike Lynch--that peevish bull-dog--from the woods, on a little
knot of a pony, pretty nigh at full speed, and covered with lather; and
there was a sort of colloguing together, and then a story made up about
Mike's being at Billy Watson's, the blacksmith's. It didn't tell well,
major, and it sot me to suspicions. The gray of the morning is not the
time for blacksmith's work: there's the fire to make up, and what not.
Besides, it don't belong to the trade, as I know, here in the country,
to be at work so arly. I said nothing; but I made a sort of reckoning in
my own mind that they looked like a couple of desarters trying to sham a
sentry. Then again, there was our horses turned loose. There is
something in these signs, you may depend upon it, Major Butler!"

"That fellow has designs against us, Galbraith," said Butler, musing,
and paying but little attention to the surmises of the sergeant, "I can
hardly think it was a dream. It may have been Mary Musgrove herself, but
how she got there is past my conjecture. I saw nothing, I only heard the
warning. And I would be sworn she addressed me as Major Butler. You say
Wat Adair gave me the same title?"

"As I am a living man," replied Horse Shoe, "he wanted to deny it; and
then he pretended it was a fancy of his own."

"It is very strange, and looks badly," said Butler.

"Never mind, let the worst come to the worst, we have arms and legs
both," returned the sergeant.

"I will take the hint for good or for ill," said the major. "Sergeant,
st