some paper, pen, and ink.

"Young man," said Robinson, "take up that pen and write as I bid you."

"To what end am I to write? I must know the purpose you design to
answer, before I can put my hand to paper."

"To the end," replied Horse Shoe firmly, and with unwonted gravity, "of
the settlement of your worldly affairs, if the consarns of to-morrow
should bring ill luck to a friend of mine."

"I do not understand you, sir. If my life is threatened to accomplish an
unrighteous purpose, it is my duty to tell you at once, that that life
belongs to my king; and if his interests are to suffer by any forced act
of mine, I am willing to resign it at once."

"Never was purpose more righteous, sir, in the view of God and man, than
ours," said David Ramsay.

"I have a friend," added Horse Shoe, greatly excited as he spoke, "who
has been foully dealt by. Some of your enlisted gangs have laid an
ambuscade to trap him: villany has been used, by them that ought to be
ashamed to see it thriving under their colors, to catch a gentleman who
was only doing the common duties of a good sodger; and by mean
bush-fighting, not by fair fields and honest blows--they have seized him
and carried him to the camp of that blood-sucking Tory, Colonel Innis. I
doubt more harm is meant him than falls to the share of a common
prisoner of war."

"I know nothing of the person, nor of the circumstances you speak
about," said the ensign.

"So much the better for you," replied the sergeant. "If your people are
brave sodgers or honest men, you will not have much occasion to be
afeard for yourself; but, by my right hand! if so much as one hair of
Major Arthur Butler's head be hurt by Colonel Innis, or by any other man
among your pillaging and brandishing bullies, I myself will drive a
bullet through from one of your ears to the other. This game of war is a
stiff game, young man, but we will play it out."

"Major Arthur Butler!" exclaimed the officer, with astonishment, "is he
taken?"

"Ha! you've hearn of him, and know something, mayhap, of them that were
on the look-out for him?"

"I cannot write," said the officer sullenly.

"No words, sir," interrupted Horse Shoe, "but obey my orders; write what
I tell you, or take your choice. I will bind you hand and foot to a tree
on yonder mountain, to starve till you write that letter; or to feed the
wild vermin with your body, if you refuse."

The ensign looked in Robinson's face, where a frown of st