to try
to cross a deep stream in the face of a bold enemy who knows how to
shoot. And of course it was an ambush, too. That is what one has to
beware of in these woods."

"It's a truth that I'm learning every day," said Holderness, who left,
wishing the prisoner, since he would not give a parole and go into
Canada, a speedy exchange with the Americans for some British captive of
importance. Henry was not sorry to be left alone as he was trying to
fathom through their characters the plan of his comrades. Paul would
seek speedy action, Jim Hart would agree with him, but the crafty
Shif'less Sol, with a patience equaling that of any Indian, would risk
nothing, until the time was ripe, and he would be seconded by the
cautious temperament of Silent Tom. Undoubtedly Shif'less Sol would have
his way. It behooved him also to show extreme patience; a quality that
he had learned long since, and he disposed himself comfortably on his
pallet for his night's rest.

The second exploit of his comrades had encouraged him wonderfully. He
was not talking folly, when he had said to more than one that he would
escape. The five had become long since a beautiful machine that worked
with great precision and power, and it was their first principles that,
when one was in trouble, all the rest should risk everything for him.

He fell asleep, but awoke some time before midnight. A bright moon was
shining in at his window and the little village within the walls was
very quiet and peaceful. He turned over and closed his eyes in order
that he might go to sleep again, but he was restless and sleep would not
come. Then he got up and stood by the window, looking at the part of the
court that lay within range. Nothing stirred. There were sentinels, of
course, but they did not pass over the area commanded by his window. The
silence was very deep, but presently he heard a sound very faint and
very distant. It was the weird cry of the owl that goes so far on a
still night. No wilderness note could have been more characteristic, but
it was repeated a certain number of times and with certain intonations,
and a little shiver ran down Henry's back. He knew that cry. It was the
signal. His friends were speaking to him, while others slept, sending a
voice across the woods and waters, telling him that they were there to
help.

Then, a strange, capricious idea occurred to him. He would reply. The
second window on the side of the river, too narrow for a man to