take it, to give me your parole. So now, if you have a mind
to promise me, on the honor of sodgers, not to sarve again until you are
fairly exchanged, you shall all leave this before daybreak. What do you
say to the terms?"

"We are all agreed," replied the men, with one accord.

"Then write out something to that effect," said the sergeant to Ramsay.
"You that can't scratch like scholards, stick your marks to the
paper--d'ye hear?"

The parole was written out by Ramsay, and duly signed or marked by each
of the four men. This being done, the sergeant informed them that,
exactly at three in the morning, the door would be opened, and they
would be at liberty to go where they pleased, provided they pledged
themselves to visit no post of the enemy within twenty miles, nor
communicate any particulars relating to their capture or detention to
any British or Tory officer or soldier, within seven days. This pledge
was cheerfully given, and after a few words of jocular good-nature were
exchanged on both sides, Horse Shoe and his companion retired.

David Ramsay now ordered out his own and Mary Musgrove's horses, with an
intention to set out immediately for the mill.

"Does Major Butler know that you are in his neighborhood?" inquired
Ramsay of the sergeant, before the horses were brought to the door.

"Oh, bless you, yes," replied Horse Shoe. "I left word for him yesterday
at Blackstock's, by giving the babblers there something to talk about,
which I knew he would hear." And the sergeant went on to relate the
particulars of his stop at that post: "And I sent him a message,"
continued he, "this morning, by James Curry, in the same sort of
fashion. A little before daylight, I heard the devil singing one of his
staves upon the road back here, so loud that he seemed to be frightened
by ghosts or sperits; so I rode up fast behind him, and cuffed him out
of his saddle, and then away I went like a leather-winged bat. I knowed
the curmudgeon's voice, and I expect he knowed my hand, for he has felt
it before. I'll be bound, he made a good story out of it; and, as such
things fly, I make no doubt it wasn't long reaching the ear of the
major, who would naturally think it was me, whether James told my name
or not, because he knows my way. It was as good as writing a letter to
the major, to signify that I was lurking about, close at hand. I never
went to school, Mr. Ramsay, so I write my letters by making my mark. I
can make a blow go