The lights on shore revealed the stations of these pickets, and as they were expecting his return Webster called out loudly: "Pickets! Pickets!!"
There was no response to this call, and to his dismay the lights were suddenly extinguished. The boatman was greatly frightened at this proceeding, and was in momentary dread of being fired upon; but Webster reassured him, and continued his loud, but ineffectual calls for the guard.
Finding it impossible to attract the attention of those who should have been upon the lookout for him, Webster assisted the boatman in landing their trunks, after which the "pungy" was pushed off from the shore, and soon afterwards disappeared in the darkness.
Webster and his companion wandered about for more than an hour, and it was nearly midnight when they came to a farm house, where their approach was heralded by the loud barking of numerous dogs, who were aroused by the unwonted presence of human beings, and were disposed to resent their approach.
The noise of the dogs brought the farmer to his door, who demanded, in no very gentle terms, to know who they were, and what had brought them there at that unseasonable hour. In a few words Webster explained the situation, and the genial farmer bade them welcome, and safely bestowed them for the night.
They had scarcely retired, when they were aroused by a loud knocking at the door, which was discovered to have been made by the pickets from the adjoining camp, who demanded to know who the new-comers were, and stated that they had been ordered to bring them immediately before an officer of the guard, two miles away.
"Why didn't you tell them that, when they called out to you before?" inquired the farmer, in a contemptuous tone.
"Well we did not know who they were," answered the leader of the party, "and we did not think it was safe."
"Oho! you were afraid of them, were you, and ran away?"
At this point, Webster, who had heard the conversation, made his appearance at the door, and demanded to know what was wanted.