everywhere, most of them being long, old-fashioned muskets, used formerly only in the game regions of the mountains. There were many who galloped up shouting, and waving swords made of scythes and reaping hooks. At the beating of a drum the men thus rudely armed gathered for drill upon the green. They were strange-looking soldiers, unused to fighting and to war, but I saw determination in their faces. They had no flag, for the only flag yet in the country was the flag of England; and that waved over the men against whom these were to fight.

Looking backward occasionally I rode away. As I passed the graves, in one of which I had reason to believe my father slept, I noticed that the old man still kept guard. It was not long after this that I came to a wood. The dusk was deepening now, and it was very still. Once I thought I heard the sound of voices in the deep forest to my right; I paused a moment, but the distant hooting of an owl was all I heard.

A little later, as I came opposite a logging road that had been used in winter, I heard the unmistakable sound of a man's voice; then in the deepening dusk that had gathered under the great trees I made out the figure of a man running. He was waving his arms and shouting for me to stop.

But I did not stop. My heart gave a leap into my throat at the thought that I might be captured, and I dug my heels into my horse's sides. He sprang forward; but as he did so I shot a look backward over my shoulder. Instantly, in the clearer light of the highway, I recognised the figure. Any lingering doubt was dispelled the next moment by a voice that brought me almost to a stand. This cry was still in my ears when a man vaulted into the saddle behind me. It was Duncan Hale, with a noosed rope about his neck.

'On, Roger, on,' he shouted, 'or they'll catch us. I knew the horse as you came by, and broke and ran. They were to hang me in five minutes.'

I urged the horse madly forward, at the same time glancing backward. The men had reached the highway and were coming. I felt my small farm horse sway and lose his pace under the double weight. I knew all was over for Duncan if they came up with us. I pushed the reins into his hands.

'They won't hang me,' I said. 'You go on.' Then I slid from the saddle; and the next moment I was standing in the middle of the road facing Duncan's pursuers with both my hands held high in the air.

Chapter IV

Prison Experiences

I was soon surrounded by a group of about a dozen panting, angry men. They made no attempts to conceal their rage. I was seized by several of them at once, violently shaken, and was asked so many questions all at once that, for a time, I was afforded a pretext for not answering any of them.

Finally quiet was restored. When the last man of the party had come up, they formed a ring about me on the road. Every moment the shadows of night were deepening, but I could clearly see that the fire of revenge burned hot in every face. Nor did I wonder at this. Duncan's escape had been so unexpected. They were as lions cheated of their prey. Almost at the moment when their savage passion for sport of the cruellest kind conceivable was to be gratified, their intended victim had suddenly slipped through their fingers. The thought of what I had been able to do filled me with a kind of fearlessness that prevented me from shrinking, as the circle of angry men narrowed about me, I felt I was at their mercy; I might be in great danger; I had been the means of thwarting them; but a thrill of pride went through me at the thought that I had been able to save the life of my dead father's dearest friend.

The leader of the party was a tall, rough, awkward-looking man of perhaps forty-five. I heard one of the men call him 'Colonel.' He stepped into the ring and brought a huge pistol to the level of my forehead.

'What's yer name?' he roared.

'Roger Davis,' I said.

'Where 're ye from?

'Cambridge.'

'Who sent ye out here?'

'I came out this morning, of my own accord, to hear the truth about what took place at Lexington the day before yesterday. I was not sent by any one.'

'The truth boy, or——' He showed the mouth of the pistol so near to my face that I could have blown my breath into the muzzle—'the truth, boy, or I'll blow——'

'I am not accustomed to speaking lies,' I broke in suddenly, with some spirit and much warmth. 'I belong to no party, and I would have you understand that you may yet have to answer for obstructing the King's highway. I bid you stand out of my path, that I may proceed on my journey.'

A great chorus of scornful laughter greeted my words. But I was spared further questions at any rate. The circle opened on one side—the side next to Lexington—and I was ordered to march. As I stepped out of the group, I heard the click of several pistols being made ready for action.

We had not gone far, when I learned from the conversation which I could not but hear, that the men behind me held sharply differing views as to what should be done.

'We were instructed by the committee to hang him,' I heard one say; 'and this we did not do. We let him escape. I for one am opposed to going back to Lexington. The committee have had their eye on Hale for some months; and they considered that Providence had put him into their hands this morning. They will be, I assure you, in no pleasant mood, when they hear he is again at large, having obtained much valuable information. And to think that there wasn't a single pistol ready when he started.'

'Perhaps the committee will turn on us—have us arrested,' put in another. 'An' hanged for neglectin' to fulfil orders,' said a third, whom I had not before heard speaking. The strife and difference grew, until many high, hot words were being spoken.

'Twasn't my fault that he escaped,' said one. 'Twas,' roared another. 'You was nearest to him.'

Then the lie was passed; and a moment later nothing but the violent intervention of 'the Colonel' could have prevented both blows and shots.

Finally a halt was decided upon. It was agreed that I was to be kept a prisoner: that two of the party were to convey me to the village and hand me over to the proper authorities, while 'the Colonel' boldly declared that he, in order to simplify matters, would inform the committee that the spy Hale had been hanged according to instructions. As I afterwards plodded on through the darkness with the tramp, tramp, of my two guards sounding in my ears behind me, I wondered that twelve men who had been reared in the King's Province of Massachusetts could have consented to such a lying proposal without protest.

After a journey that seemed doubly long owing to my hunger and weariness, we came to the village, and I was immediately handed over to an official. Though it was very dark, he put a heavy bandage over my eyes; then, with the men who had brought me following, I was led by a very rough path through a field, and across a brook. But I said nothing. It was not a time for words.

Finally we came to a stand. I could hear the sound as of heavy timbers being removed and thrown down. Then there was the noise of the sliding back of a door. In a few moments I was led into what seemed to be the mouth of a cave. The air was damp, and I detected at once a close, unpleasant odour.

It was not long before my eyes were unbandaged and I was permitted to look about. The place seemed to have been dug out of solid rock; water dripped from one side of the roof; there was no floor but the natural rock. In one corner, supported on four stones, lay an old door. I looked a moment at this, and then turned to the faces of three men who stood about me. They were each eyeing me keenly. One of the faces I felt sure I had seen—but where? The single lantern carried by the jailer threw only a faint and imperfect light on the faces and on everything about me; still I suddenly became certain that one of