and you must warn him that the troops
are coming."

"Only one question, Honor. Come out into the moonlight; give me both
your hands. Do you love this man?"

He looked at her fixedly. She gave a quick, strong start, as though she
must break away from him at all hazards, and turned darkly red, the
deep, almost painful, blush of the brunette. Her hands shook in his
grasp, tears of shame rose in her eyes; it was as though some one had
struck her in the face.

"Do you love this Eliot?" repeated Stephen, compelling her still to meet
his eyes.

She drew in her breath suddenly, and answered, with a rush of quick
words: "No, no, no! Not in the way you mean. But he is my cousin. Go!"

He went. Nearly two miles farther down the road the trail turned off; it
climbed directly up a glen by the side of a brook which ran downward to
the river in a series of little waterfalls. It was wide enough for a
horse, and showed the track of Marcher's hoofs. It came out on a flank
of the mountain and turned westward, then northward, then straight up
again through the thick woods to a house whose light shone down like a
beacon, and guided him.

Wainwright knocked; Brother Bethuel opened, started slightly, then
recovered himself, and welcomed his guest effusively.

"Is there any one in the house besides ourselves?" said Stephen,
ignorant as to whether there was or was not a Mrs. Head. There was; but
she had gone, with her five offspring, to visit her mother in Tennessee.

"Then," said Stephen, "take me immediately to Richard Eliot."

The little minister stared innocently at his guest.

"Take you where?" he repeated, with surprised face.

"Come," said Stephen, "you need not conceal. Miss Dooris herself sent
me. I am to warn this Eliot that the troops are on the way--have
probably already left Ellerby."

The little man, convinced, sprang for his lantern, lighted it, and
hurried out, followed by Wainwright. He ran more than he walked; he
climbed over the rocks; he galloped down the gullies and up the other
side; he said not a word, but hurried, closely followed by Stephen, who
was beginning to feel spent, until he reached the foot of a wall of
rock, the highest ledge of Eagle Knob. Here he stood still and whistled.
Stephen sat down, and tried to recover his breath. After a moment or two
a whistle answered from above, and the missionary imitated the cry of a
night-bird, one, two, three times. He then sat down beside Wainwright,
and wipe