d the last step;
when, as he was on the point of opening his mouth to speak, De Banyan
leveled a blow at his head with the handle of the pitch-fork, which
felled him to the floor.

He sank down upon the stairs stunned or dead; and the captain, as though
he had carefully matured his plan beforehand, dragged the body to one
corner of the loft, where he covered it with hay.

"Not a word, Somers," said he in an excited whisper, as he crouched down
behind the grain chest.

"Are you going to stay here?" demanded Somers, astonished at this
singular disposition of the forces.

"Hush--the officer is close by."

With beating heart, Somers waited for the further action of his resolute
companion. It was the most critical period of his life, it seemed to him,
especially as he did not fully comprehend the purpose of De Banyan. Only
a moment elapsed, but it was long enough to be a week, before the owner
of Jenny returned to the stable.

"Peters! What are you about?" shouted he angrily. "I shall never get off
at this rate. Peters!"

Peters was not in condition to answer the summons at that moment. Somers
hoped he was not dead; but he might as well have been dead, so far as
speaking was concerned.

"Peters!" shouted the officer again, with a string of Southern
Confederacy oaths; "where are you? What are you about?"

Of course, the orderly could not answer; and his silence only added to
the rage of his master, who continued to swear in a manner which must
have disgusted the gentle Jenny, and the other respectable horse standing
on the stable-floor.

The officer rushed out of the stable, and the heaviness of his step
indicated the state of his mind. He had gone to look for Peters; but, as
Peters was not outside, he must be inside; and the officer entered again.
He now walked towards the stairs leading to the loft.

"Peters!" he continued to roar as he rushed up the stairs. "Peters! this
is your last day's service with me!"

But the poor orderly was unable to remove the stain which rested upon his
fidelity. He still held his peace; still silently submitted to the unjust
imputations on his character. The officer landed in the loft just as
Captain de Banyan rose to receive him.

"Who are you?" demanded he, as the stout form of the captain confronted
him.

"Your most obedient servant to command," replied De Banyan.

"You are a Confederate officer?"

"I seem to be; but I am not. Be that as it may, your presence is
dangero