im in it, he was promised two
things--pardon for his offence, and, what was of more importance to him,
a bottle of old whiskey.

"I'll see that you have light enough," said Ropes, significantly.

It was the evening of the firing of the forests. How well the lieutenant
fulfilled his part of the engagement, we have seen.

Gad put the bottle in his pocket, and set off at dark by routes obscure
and circuitous to get upon the trail of the patriots. How well _he_
succeeded will appear by and by.

The burning of the forests caused a great excitement in the valley,
especially among those families whose husbands and fathers were known to
have taken refuge in them. Who had committed the barbarous act? The
confederates denounced it with virtuous indignation, charging the
patriots with it, of course. There was in the village but one witness
who could have disputed this charge, and he now occupied Gad's place in
the guard-house. It was the deserter Carl.

All the morning Gad's return was anxiously awaited. No doubt there were
good reasons why he did not come. So said his friend Silas; and his
friend Silas was right: there were good reasons.

"Anyhow, I kep' my word--I giv him light enough, I reckon!" chuckled
Silas.

That was true: Gad had had light enough, and to spare.

The rain continued all the morning. Perhaps that was what detained the
scout; for it was known that he had a great aversion to water.

In the afternoon came one with tidings from the mountain. It was not
Gad. It was old Toby.

He was seized by some soldiers and taken before Captain Sprowl, at the
school-house.

"Toby, you black devil, where have you been?" This was Lysander's
chivalrous way of addressing an inferior whom he wished to terrify.

Now, if there was a person in the world whom Toby detested, it was this
roving Lysander, who had disgraced the Villars family by marrying into
it. However, he concealed his contempt with a politic hypocrisy worthy
of a whiter skin.

"Please, sar," said the old negro, cap in hand, "I'se been lookin' for
my ol' massa and my young missis."

"Well, what luck, you lying scoundrel?"

"O, no luck 't all, I 'sure you, sar!"

"What! couldn't you find 'em? Don't you lie, you ----." (We may as well
omit the captain's energetic epithets.)

"O, sar!"--Toby looked up earnestly with counterfeit grief in his
wrinkled old face,--"dey ain't nowhars on de face ob de 'arth!"

"Not on the face of the earth!"

"If dey is,