see out of the tail of my eye, even though I had not
heard his footsteps, that Abel Hunt was following less than half a dozen
paces behind us, and a great fear came into my heart, for now I knew he
was convinced we had had some hand in the disappearance of Horry Sims,
and would act as our shadow in the hope of coming at the secret of the
Tory's whereabouts.

There was little chance he would give us an opportunity of slipping into
old Mary's cabin unobserved, and I pictured to myself the alarm and
distress of Uncle 'Rasmus as the hours went by and we failed to put in
an appearance.

I had come to understand that we must walk the streets of York during
all the hours of darkness, and, what was of far more importance, must
hold back from performing that task which the Jerseyman had set us.

There was little hope we would be able to set off in a boat alone, and
it was quite positive we would not dare do so while Hunt was holding us
under his eye, therefore had we missed an opportunity of serving the
Cause, as well as paved the way, perhaps, for our own arrest as spies.

I turned the matter over and over in my mind as I walked by Pierre's
side in silence, asking myself whether this dissolute fellow could gain
speech with any of the king's officers, and as I asked the question I
could answer it full well, for he had only to whisper the fact that he
could give information as to spies, and even my Lord Cornwallis himself
would listen to him.

We had come to grief, as it seemed to me, and what presented itself to
my mind as the most painful of all the sorry business, was that we had
been brought to such a pass by a worthless, ignorant lout whom I would
not have allowed to linger even in the Hamilton stables.

CHAPTER XI

A DESPERATE VENTURE

As Pierre and I walked aimlessly to and fro without other purpose than
to convince Abel Hunt we were really without a shelter, and not daring
to hold converse one with another lest he should overhear, the bitter
thought was in my mind that Uncle 'Rasmus must perforce remain in old
Mary's cabin standing guard over the prisoner.

I tried to remember how much water we had left in the cabin, and finally
came to the conclusion that there was less than a quart in the bucket
when I last quenched my thirst, therefore neither the old negro nor the
Tory prisoner would have a bit to eat or a sup to drink until we had
succeeded in throwing Abel Hunt off our track.

As a matter of cou