.
Jupiter! I'd like to be there and see the flames reddening the sky. It
will be a grand sight." He looked longingly through the forest toward
the Braes.

"Something else will be dyed crimson, if I know that Tory right."

"That there will be, sir; it will be a lovely scrimmage;" and he
sighed at the lost opportunity.

The boat grounded on the south bank, and I mounted Toby.

"A pleasant ride, sir."

"Thanks; good-night."

"Toby," said I, as I patted his neck, "you have travelled many a mile
to-day, old fellow; but you will have to cover the ground to-night as
you never covered it before. They have an hour's start, and we have a
longer distance to go; so double your legs under you, my boy, and go."

Toby rising to the occasion, and the spirit of old Ranter proving
true, he broke into the long even gallop that makes the miles pass
swiftly. It was a race against time, against James Rodolph and his
crew. I knew if once they gained the Braes, black death would stalk
among the ruins, for Charles Gordon would never surrender.

The night fell rapidly as we raced along and the miles flew by.

As Toby and I drew near Bohemia Manor, where the road joined the one
on which the posse was marching, I reined him in and rode more
cautiously. It was well that I did so, for as I approached I heard
the low murmur of men's voices and saw their figures in the dim light
as they were marching by.

I brought Toby to a halt. The road was cut off that way, so I wheeled
him around to ride back a short distance to where the road skirted the
open fields of Bohemia Manor. As Toby plunged forward in answer to my
spur, I heard a cry and then a shot came whistling by. But I left them
behind, and coming to the open fields, I put Toby at the fence and
raced across the open country, through the lower fields to the Braes,
Toby taking the fences in his stride.

Then I dashed once more across the green lawn of the Braes and drew my
sword hilt across the shutter.

There was a stir in the room above me; the shutter was cautiously
opened and I was covered by the muzzle of a pistol.

"Who are you?" demanded a voice which I knew to be Charles Gordon's.

"James Frisby of Fairlee," I replied. "I have ridden to warn you, Mr.
Gordon. You have only a few minutes to escape in; James Rodolph, with
a hundred men behind him, will be here in ten minutes."

"Thank you, lad, for the information. I will give them a warm
reception."

"But you cannot hold th