es," suggested Stephen. "One of this gang shot Allison;
was this Eliot of yours the marksman?"

Brother Bethuel was silent. Stephen turned and saw by the lantern's
gleam the trouble and agitation on his face.

"He did it, I see," said Stephen, "and you know he did it. It was
murder."

"No, no--war," said the missionary, with dry lips. They had reached the
road and looked down it; the moonlight was unclouded now. They could see
nothing, but they thought they heard sounds. Brother Bethuel went back
up the glen, and Wainwright, turning into the woods, made his way along
in the deep shadows above the road. He met the soldiers after a while,
marching sturdily, and remained motionless behind a tree-trunk until
they had passed; then, descending into the track, he walked rapidly back
to the village. But, with all his haste and all his skill, he did not
reach his room unobserved; Adelaide saw him enter, and noted the hour.

The troops came back at noon the next day, not having discovered the
foe. Honor was with Adelaide, pretending to sew, but her mind was
astray; Adelaide watched her closely. Stephen was present, quiet and
taciturn as usual. He had succeeded in conveying to the girl,
unobserved, a slip of paper, on which was written: "Eliot is hidden in
the cellar of Head's house. I am going out there this afternoon, and you
may feel assured that, in a day or two more, he will be out of the
mountains, and in permanent safety." But he had not been able to
exchange any words with her.

Royce came in, foiled, tired, and out of temper.

"If it had not been for the little minister, we should have had nothing
at all for our pains," he said, when, the first annoyed heat over, he,
having been left in the mean while unvexed by questions owing to
Adelaide's tact, began to feel himself like telling the story. "He heard
us down in the road, came to meet us, and advised us what to do. It
seems that he too has had his suspicions about Eagle Knob, and he took
his lantern and guided us up there. We hunted about and found one of
their hiding-places, showing traces, too, of recent occupation; but we
could not find the men or the still. The troops will take rations,
however, next time, and make a regular campaign of it: we shall unearth
the scoundrels yet."

"But _you_ will not think it necessary to go again, John?" said
Adelaide.

"Not necessary, but agreeable, Cousin Adelaide. I will not leave these
mountains until the murderer of All