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My thanks were few and awkward, for there still hung to the missive a basting thread, and it was as warm as a nestling bird. I bent low--everybody was emotional in those days--kissed the fragrant thing, thrust it into my bosom, and blushed worse than Camille.

"Law, you hain't!" cried Mrs. Wall, smiling back as she jounced. "If you air, the Majo's sisteh's got written awdehs fo' you."

"Oh I was forgetting that; yes, do!"

"Yes." She stooped low under the interlacing boughs and plunged with me into the double darkness.

"What's that about the horse?--The horse might git away and be evidence ag'inst us?--What?--Oh, now give the true reason; you want the horse, that's all! You two lickskillets air in this thing pyo'ly for the stealin's. Me and my son ain't bushwhackers, we're gentlemen! At least I'm one. Our game's revenge!"

I took my weapon into my bridle-hand by the barrel and began to draw from my bosom the empty envelope addressed Coralie Rothvelt. At the same time I let my horse move forward again, while I still listened backward with my brain as busy as a mill. Was there here no hidden succor? Was that no part of Ned Ferry's plan--if the plan was his? Were those villains waiting yet, up at the ford? I could hear nothing at my back but the singing of innumerable birds.

"Captain Jewett ought to know," Ferry called back, and on that the questioner recognized us both. He became very stately. "Lieutenant Durand, I believe."

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