he
kept a steady eye. She saw him leave the road and go into the woods.

Not far away was a potato-house, built over a cellar. To this frail
structure he set fire. The dry timbers soon fell into the pit, and he
stood there as if to warm himself. Night was his time for real work and
he would wait. The sun was almost down. He turned away, and looking
along the road that wound through the woods, he saw old Gideon coming.
Quickly he hastened to the road-side and stood behind a tree, with a
knife in his hand. Gid came slowly along. And just as he came abreast
of the tree, his pop-eyes saw the fellow. He threw up his arm and caught
the knife on the barrel of his gun; then leaping, with the gun clubbed,
he struck at the Frenchman, but the fellow was too quick for him. "Oh,
if I only had a cartridge!" the old man said with a groan, running after
him. "I'd rather have a load of shot right now than a mortgage on
Jerusalem. But I'll follow you--I'll get you."

Larnage was running, looking back, expecting to be shot; and stubbing
his toe he fell--head-long into the potato-cellar, into the pit of
red-hot coals. Ashes and a black smoke arose, and with frightful cries
he scrambled out, and with his charred clothes falling off him, he ran
to the bayou and plunged headforemost into the water. Gid saw him sink
and rise; saw him sink again; and long he waited, but the man did not
rise again.

* * * * *

Down along the bayou where negro cabins were thickly set, fires were
springing up; and there, running from place to place, following white
men who bore torches, was Father Brennon.

"Don't burn this house!" he cried. "It belongs to the church."

"Damn the church!" a man replied.

"But this house belongs to an innocent man--he would not seek to kill
the whites--he's gone to the hills."

"I reckon you are right," said the man, and onward he ran, waving his
torch, the priest keeping close behind him.

* * * * *

From the woods the men were coming, and as Gid drew near to the
Cranceford house he saw Jim Taylor passing through the gate; and a few
moments later, turning a corner of the porch, he found the giant
standing there with his arm about--Louise.

"Ho, the young rabbit!" the old man cried.

"Frog," she laughed, running forward and giving him both her hands.

"Why, how did you get here?" he asked.

"I heard that the militia had been ordered home and I got here a