red her reason--was seated in the chimney corner calmly knitting a
sock.

To warn these of their danger was now the urgent duty of the farmer, for
well he knew that the disappointed soldiers would immediately visit his
home. Indeed, he saw them ride away in that direction soon afterwards,
and started off to forestall them if possible by taking a short cut.
Glendinning had borrowed the horse of a trooper and left the dismounted
man to walk after them.

But there was no particularly short cut to the cottage, and in spite of
Andrew's utmost exertions the dragoons arrived before him. Not,
however, before the wary Peter had observed them, given the alarm, got
all the inmates of the farm--including Mrs. Mitchell--down into the
hidy-hole and established himself in the chimney corner with a look of
imbecile innocence that was almost too perfect.

Poor Peter! his heart sank when the door was flung violently open and
there entered a band of soldiers, among whom he recognised some of the
party which he had so recently led into the heart of a morass and so
suddenly left to find their way out as they best could. But no
expression on Peter's stolid countenance betrayed his feelings.

"So, my young bantam cock," exclaimed a trooper, striding towards him,
and bending down to make sure, "we've got hold of you at last?"

"Eh?" exclaimed Peter interrogatively.

"You're a precious scoundrel, aren't you?" continued the trooper.

"Ay," responded Peter.

"I told you the lad was an idiot," said a comrade. The remark was not
lost upon the boy, whose expression immediately became still more
idiotic if possible.

"Tell me," said Glendinning, grasping Peter savagely by one ear, "where
is your master?"

"I dinna ken, sir."

"Is there nobody in the house but you?"

"Naebody but me," said Peter, "an' _you_," he added, looking vacantly
round on the soldiers.

"Now, look 'ee here, lad, I'm not to be trifled with," said the
sergeant. "Where are the rest of your household hidden? Answer;
quick."

Peter looked into the sergeant's face with a vacant stare, but was
silent. Glendinning, whose recent misfortune had rendered him unusually
cruel, at once knocked the boy down and kicked him; then lifting him by
the collar and thrusting him violently into the chair, repeated the
question, but received no answer.

Changing his tactics he tried to cajole him and offered him money, but
with similar want of success.

"Hand me your sword-b