hing," replied Horse Shoe, "you are
not old enough for that yet. At your time of life, Mr. Lindsay, a good
night's rest is the best part of a ration. And to-morrow, if I'm not
mistaken, you will have need of all the strength you can muster
to-night. As for me, it isn't much account whether I'm asleep or awake."

"Not so fast, sergeant," rejoined the youth, "I'm an older soldier than
you take me for; Stephen and I have watched many a night for racoons.
No, no, I'll have my turn towards morning. So, you and Isaac take the
first part of the night between you, and if anything should happen, call
me; I'm one of your minute men. So good night. My horse trots harder
than I thought he did."

It was not long before our boasted minute man was locked up in a spell
apparently as profound as that which the legend affirms assailed the
seven sleepers: and Isaac, not even waiting for the good example of his
master, had already sunk upon the ground, with that facility which
distinguishes his race, the most uncaring and happiest of mortals.

CHAPTER XLI.

Our fortress is the good green wood,
Our tent the cypress tree,
We know the forest round us
As seamen know the sea.

We know its walls of thorny vines,
Its glades of reedy grass,
Its safe and silent islands
Within the dark morass.--BRYANT.

The faithful Horse Shoe being thus left to himself, replenished his
pipe, and, taking his rifle in his hand, paced to and fro upon the
border of the road, holding communion with his own thoughts, carefully
weighing the probabilities connected with his present singular
expedition, and revolving, after his own fashion, the fortunes of Arthur
Butler and Mildred Lindsay.

It was within an hour of midnight, when the sergeant's meditations were
interrupted by the tramp of a horse approaching the hut at a gallop. But
a few moments elapsed before a traveller, who, in the starlight, Horse
Shoe could discern to be armed, drew up his rein immediately at the door
of the dwelling, against which he struck several blows with his weapon,
calling out loudly at the same time--

"Mistress Wingate--for God's sake, open your door quickly! I have news
to tell you, good woman."

"In the name of mercy! who are you?" exclaimed the voice of the dame
within, whilst a note of alarm was also heard from her fellow-lodger.

"What do you mean by this racket and clatter?" demanded Horse Shoe, in
the midst of the uproar,