cathechisms is like another. The muzzle is more than a foot
deep, and has a plaguy gunpowder look!"

"But this gun is not mounted; even if it were, it could only be set up
for show," observed the captain.

"Put that cannon up once, and I'll answer for it that no Injin faces
it. 'Twill be as good as a dozen sentinels," answered Joel. "As for
mountin', I thought of that before I said a syllable about the crittur.
There's the new truck-wheels in the court, all ready to hold it, and
the carpenters can put the hinder part to the whull, in an hour or two,
and that in a way no Injin could tell the difference between it and a
ra'al cannon, at ten yards."

"This is plausible, your honour," said Joyce, respectfully, "and it
shows that corporal Strides"--Joel insisted he was a serjeant, but the
real Simon Pure never gave him a title higher than that of
corporal--"and it shows that corporal Strides has an idea of war. By
mounting that piece, and using it with discretion--refusing it, at the
right moment, and showing it at another--a great deal might be done
with it, either in a siege or an assault. If your honour will excuse
the liberty, I would respectfully suggest that it might be well to set
the quaker on his legs, and plant him at the gate, as an exhorter."

The captain reflected a moment, and then desired the overseer to
proceed in his account. The rest of Joel's story was soon told. He had
mystified the strangers, according to his own account of the matter, so
thoroughly, by affecting to withhold nothing, that they considered him
as a sort of ally, and did not put him in confinement at all. It is
true, he was placed _en surveillance_; but the duty was so
carelessly performed, that, at the right moment, he had passed down the
ravine, a direction in which a movement was not expected, and buried
himself in the woods, so very effectually that it would have baffled
pursuit, had any been attempted. After making a very long _detour_,
that consumed hours, he turned the entire valley, and actually reached
the Hut, under the cover of the rivulet and its bushes, or precisely
by the route in which he and Mike had gone forth, in quest of Maud,
the evening of the major's arrival. This latter fact, however, Joel
had reasons of his own for concealing.

"You have told us nothing of Mr. Woods, Strides," the captain observed,
when Joel's account was ended.

"Mr. Woods! I can tell the captain nothing of that gentleman; I
supposed he was