; but there was a possibility that some of the
soldiers, curious to know who was dwelling in this ramshackle of a
building, might enter to gratify their curiosity, and it would not be
well if they saw us living there with the old negro; at least, there was
a chance harm might come of it, and we were not inclined to take any
such risk simply in order to enjoy a trifle more of comfort.

Hard though our bed was, both us lads fell asleep shortly after we were
in a position to invite slumber, and, without heed to the many dangers
which surrounded us, slept soundly and peacefully until being awakened
by Uncle 'Rasmus who, unable to ascend by the rude ladder, was calling
us by name softly from below.

It was dark when I opened my eyes, aroused by the old negro's voice, so
dark that I could not even distinguish the outlines of my comrade, and I
understood that now was come the time for the venture of bringing Horry
Sims to the cabin.

Pierre was already making his way toward the scuttle when I had come to
a full realization of the situation, and I followed him as nearly in
silence as was possible, until we had descended to where Uncle 'Rasmus
stood awaiting us at the foot of the rude ladder.

"It's pas' midnight, chillun, an' I'se 'lowin' dat de time hab come for
you to snake dat young Tory up here."

"Is everything quiet, Uncle 'Rasmus?" Pierre asked, and the old negro
replied:

"I ain' heard a soun' dis las' hour, 'cept when dem sogers what am on
guard raise up dere hootin' to let folks know dey're awake. It's dark as
de lan' ob Egypt eber was, an' I'se kind'er reckonin' you kin go down to
Marse Bemis's shop widout makin' trubble for yoursefs. 'Member, chillun,
ef dese yere red-coats do sneak up on yer, an' fin' out what you'se
erbout, take to your laigs. Don' stop to fight, kase it won't be any
use. Des say to yoursefs dat de Hamilton plantation am a heap better
place dan dis yere town ob York, an' you get dere, honey, you get dere!"

"What about yourself, Uncle 'Rasmus?" I asked with deep concern.
"Suppose the Britishers learn of our doings and we run away, you would
be in danger, for surely Horry Sims never'd let the chance slip him to
mix you up in the row."

"Don' you gib any heed to your Uncle 'Rasmus, honey. Ef trubble comes
you des look arter yoursefs, an' leabe de ole nigger to crawl out ob de
hole de bes' way he kin. Don' stop to talk nor to fight, ef de
Britishers pounce on yer; but get back to de plantati