Part 7 (1/2)

The instant's pause seemed an eternity to Andy. Then calmly and with clear, uplifted eyes:

”The main road, sir, it being the safer and shorter!” Andy felt a moment's dizziness. Then a rough voice startled him:

”I know that boy, my lord; he was the one in the secret pa.s.sage, about which I told you. I shall not soon forget him.”

”I thought you said your companion in the cave was dealt a stunning blow; surely this lad could have done no such thing,” answered the Captain.

”I could swear to him, your lords.h.i.+p, though I saw him but for a moment as Martin went down, and the light went out. Hi! there, Martin, come here,” he called. A man galloped up, a man with a dark bruise upon his forehead and eye.

”Martin, do you know that boy?” Martin looked, and in the clear light he saw and knew Andy at once; but something staggered him, and he stammered and shook.

”Did you strike this soldier?” asked the Captain impatiently of Andy.

”No, sir!” The words came sharply.

”You do not recognize him?” asked the officer of Martin.

”He--is--the--same!” Martin blurted. ”We are losing time, my lord.”

”There is no way to settle the thing here; we are losing time, and your story of that night in the cave is too important to overlook, Norton. If this is the boy we must deal with him later. The young scamp probably knows the roads well. Lead on, you rascal, but if you play any tricks and mislead us, my men shall pin you to a tree.”

Ruth gave one despairing cry:

”He is lame,” she panted. ”For shame! How can he lead a mounted troop?”

”We'll go slowly. The game's nearly up, my girl,” laughed Norton, ”and a p.r.i.c.k of the bayonet”--he suited the word with an action, and prodded Andy on the arm--”will hurry the lamest patriot. Lead on, cave-crawler!”

Andy gave one look at Ruth. A look of bravery, appreciation, and mute thanks for her part of the work.

”It's all right, Ruth,” he called back. ”Tell mother I'll lead them straight enough and be home in an hour. Good-by.”

By a winding way leading from the main road they went; through Apthorpe's place they cantered at their ease, and so came to the highway a mile beyond.

”There may be a shorter cut, my lord,” suggested Norton; then he paused.

”Does your lords.h.i.+p observe there are no marks on the road that bespeak the recent pa.s.sing of a regiment? This should mean the young rebel's death!”

”He's a spy in the old fox's hire!” shouted another.

”String him up, along with the schoolmaster down at the Beekman place to-morrow morning!” roared a third. All was wild commotion in a moment.

But in that moment Andy took his chances and made for the thicket, and the hidden path over which he and Was.h.i.+ngton went that day that now seemed so long ago. A man leaned from a horse and tried to clutch him, lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. Confusion covered Andy's dash.

”He's gone!” yelled the man who had fallen.

”Which way?” shouted several in response.

Which way? Aye, that was the query. Which way!

Andy made for the dry bed of the stream. No rustling leaves must betray him. Not in flight was his safety now, but in silent hiding until darkness should come. Down into the muddy pool of the once rus.h.i.+ng brook, rolled the boy. In the distance he heard:

”No trail here, my lord!” and he smiled grimly.