he fire
and vowed he'd stick a brand in it and back he came with a burning
stick.

Rolf was all ready to make a dash for his life as soon as the cover
should take fire, and he peered up into the soldier's face as the latter
blew on the brand; but the flame had died, the thistles were not dry,
and the fire was a failure; so, growling again, the soldier threw down
the smoking stick and went away. As soon as he was safely afar, Rolf
gathered a handful of soil and covered the red embers.

It was a critical moment and his waiting alone had saved him.

Two soldiers came with their blankets and spread them near. For a time
they smoked and talked. One of them was short of tobacco; the other
said, "Never mind, we'll get plenty in Plattsburg," and they guffawed.

Then he heard, "As soon as the colonel" and other broken phrases.

It was a most difficult place for Rolf; he was tormented with thistles
in his face and down his neck; he dared not change his position; and
how long he must stay was a problem. He would try to escape when all was
still.

The nearer soldiers settled to rest now. All was very quiet when Rolf
cautiously peeped forth to see two dreadful things: first, a couple
of sentries pacing up and down the edges of the camp; second, a broad,
brilliant, rising moon. How horrible that lovely orb could be Rolf never
before knew.

Now, what next? He was trapped in the middle of a military camp
and undoubtedly La Colle Mill was the rendezvous for some important
expedition.

He had ample time to think it all over. Unless he could get away before
day he would surely be discovered. His uniform might save his life,
but soldiers have an awkward, hasty way of dealing summarily with a
spy--then discovering too late that he was in uniform.

From time to time he peered forth, but the scene was unchanged--the
sleeping regiment, the pacing sentries, the ever-brightening moon. Then
the guard was changed, and the sentries relieved selected of all places
for their beds, the bank beside the hay-cock. Again one of them went to
help himself to some hay for a couch; and again the comic anger as he
discovered it to be a bed of thorns. How thankful Rolf was for those
annoying things that pricked his face and neck.

He was now hemmed in on every side and, not knowing what to do, did
nothing. For a couple of hours he lay still, then actually fell asleep.
He was awakened by a faint rustling near his head and peered forth to
see a coupl