rope, throwing it over the prisoner's arms, crossing his hands,
and passing one end to a soldier on the other side. In an instant,
Scarlett's elbows were bound tightly to his ribs, and there held, while
a couple more men thrust a fresh staff behind his back and under his
arms, another rope was used, and with the rapidity which comes of
practice upon hundreds of previous prisoners, the passionate young
officer was literally bound and trussed, the ends of rope being made
fast to the horse he rode.

The men who were looking on, murmured angrily at the blow which they saw
fall on their young officer.

"Hang him to the nearest tree," shouted one of the party.

"Silence!" cried Fred, sternly; and speaking quite calmly now, though he
was quivering with pain, he pressed his horse closely to that upon which
his prisoner rode.

"That was a cowardly blow, Scar Markham," he said, in a whisper. "I was
only doing my duty. You'll ask my pardon yet."

"Pardon?" raged the lad; "never! Oh, if I only were free and had my
sword, I'd make you beg mine for this indignity. Miserable wretch!
Rebel! I shall live yet to see you and your traitor of a father hung."

Fred started angrily at this, but he checked himself, reined back his
horse, and looking very white now from anger and pain, he gave the word
of command. Six of his men formed up in front of the prisoners, the
other six took their places behind; swords were drawn, and the horses
bearing the prisoners needed no guiding, but in accordance with their
training as cavalry mounts, set off in rank as the word "March!" was
given, the young leader waiting till all had passed, and then taking his
place beside the last two men, one of whom was Samson.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A COWARDLY REVENGE.

No word was spoken as they crossed the fields that separated them from
the road, which they reached by the leading men turning their horses
into the rapid stream, and letting them wade for a few yards through the
flashing water knee-deep, and sending the drops foaming and sparkling in
the bright morning sun.

"Left," shouted Fred, as the road was reached, and the next minute the
little detachment was trampling up the dust which rose behind them.

"Did it hurt you much, Master Fred?" whispered Samson.

"Hurt me? I felt as if my leg was cut off; and it is just now as if the
bone was broken."

"Perhaps you'd better not go, sir."

"Not go? I'd go if it was ten times as bad."

"And