the compulsion of force, I agree to write," and he once more took up the
pen.

"You speak now like a reasonable gentleman," said Horse Shoe. "I pity
you, friend, and will preserve you against harm, so far as it can be
done in the circumstances of the case."

The ensign then wrote a few lines, in which he communicated to Colonel
Innis, or to whatever officer his letter might be delivered, the straits
in which he found himself, and the resolution of his captors to hold his
life forfeit upon the event of any rigors, beyond those of an ordinary
prisoner of war, imposed upon Major Butler. When he had finished, he
gave the paper to Robinson.

"Read it aloud, Mr. Ramsay," said Horse Shoe, delivering the scrawl to
his friend.

Ramsay read what was written.

"It must be wrote over again," said Horse Shoe, after he had heard the
contents. "First, it must make no mention of his being only a few miles
off; that must be left out. Secondly, my name needn't be told; though if
the runagates knowed he was in my hands, they wouldn't think his chance
any better on that account. Let him say that the Whigs have got
him--that's enough. And, lastly, he must write his own name in full at
the bottom. And, look you, young man, don't be scrawling out the lines
in such a way that your own hand-write moughtn't be known. That must
speak for itself, because upon this letter depends your life. You
understand?"

"Give it me," said the ensign; "I will write it as you desire."

And again the unfortunate officer applied himself to the task that was
imposed upon him; and in a short time produced a letter, which, being
subjected to the criticism of the bystanders, was pronounced
satisfactory.

As soon as this was done, St. Jermyn was conducted into another
apartment, and there confided to the guardianship of Christopher Shaw.
Horse Shoe now took a light and the writing materials from the table,
and repaired with David Ramsay--both of them well armed--to the
store-house, where the other prisoners were confined. After they had
entered and closed the door, posting Andrew with his musket on the
outside, Horse Shoe addressed the men in a gay and cheerful tone:

"Come, my lads, as you are good, honest fellows, that can have no great
love for these little country cabins, judging by your bad luck and
oncomfortable circumstances in that one where I found you this morning,
I have come to set you free. By the laws of war, you have the right, if
I choose to