ves. The sound
of the oars was drowned by the clamour of the mob.

"If he passes the neck," I exclaimed, "he will be safe;" for the creek
narrowed at its mouth until it was but a hundred yards wide.

"Ride quick to the point," she said.

So Toby plunged forward again at the pressure of my knees, and though
he still went gallantly on, I could tell that the strain and the toil
of the long march from the north, and his dash from the Head of Elk,
were beginning to tell on him.

At last we reached the mouth of the creek, and I brought Toby to a
halt under the shadow of a clump of trees, where we could see and yet
not be seen. I glanced for a moment out over the waters of the bay,
and I saw, several miles to the southward, the gleam of a light as it
fell on the waves; I knew it was the English man-of-war.

But Mistress Jean's eyes were eagerly searching the waters of the
creek, and she was straining her ears to catch the sound of the oars.
Then we were rewarded. For at that moment we heard the long sweep of
the oars in the water, and out from the mouth of the creek came the
boat, the brawny negroes bending to their task.

The commanding figure of the old Tory stood in the stern, looking back
up the creek whence they came. Unconsciously my glance followed his,
and I saw that the sky was crimson, and high above the tree-tops the
flames licked the skies.

"The Braes!" I exclaimed, and Mistress Jean was about to call out,
when there came the sound of galloping hoofs on the other side. A
horseman dashed into view, and rode into the water up to the
saddle-girths. There was a flash, and the crack of a pistol broke the
stillness of the night; then with a gesture of rage, the horseman rose
in his stirrups and hurled the pistol far over the water; we heard the
splash as it fell.

Then the figure in the boat raised his clenched hand and shook it at
the horseman and the flames.

"You fired too quick, Mr. Rodolph," said the ferryman.

"Yes, damn him, he has escaped." He turned his horse and rode into the
darkness, while a soft voice whispered in my ear,--

"Thank God."

CHAPTER XI

THE COUNCIL OF SAFETY

The sun had risen when we came once more in view of the groves of
Fairlee. Toby's pace had degenerated into a walk, as if not to disturb
the fair burden he bore, for she, overcome with fatigue and
excitement, was quietly sleeping with her head on my shoulder. Toby
picked his way like a dancing-master, and though