"Then come." He still seemed to be quaking as with ague.
Silently Ferror led the way, Fred following. Slowly feeling their way through the darkness, they had gone some distance when they were suddenly commanded to halt.
"Who comes there?" asked a stern voice. Ferror gave a start of surprise, and then answered:
"A friend with the countersign."
"Advance, friend, and give the countersign."
Ferror boldly advanced, leaned forward as if to whisper the word in the ear of the guard. Then there was a flash, a loud report, and with a moan the soldier sank to the ground.
"Come," shrieked Ferror, and Fred, horrified, sprang forward. Through the woods, falling over rocks, running against trees, they dashed, until at last they had to stop from sheer exhaustion.
The camp was in a wild commotion. Shouts and oaths filled the air. Men were heard crashing through the forest, escaping as they thought from an unseen foe. But when no attack came, and no other shot was heard, the confusion and excitement began to abate, and every one was asking, "What is it?" No one knew.
"The sound of the shot came from that direction," said the soldier who had taken the place of Ferror as guard.
"There is where I stationed Drake," said the officer of the guard. "I discovered a path leading up the mountain, and I concluded to post a sentinel on it. Sergeant, make a detail, and come with me."