“It is, by Herod! it is the whole main body, Germans and all, at their rations, within a mile of us, and their pickets on the move in this direction!” he at length exclaimed, hastily quitting his post of observation.
Hurrying down to the side of the startled maiden, he sprang to the nearest length of the fence, here enclosing the road, and grappling, with main strength, the topmost of the heavy poles of which it was composed, soon effected a breach sufficiently low to allow the horse to leap over without endangering the seat of the rider.
“Here, go it, Lightfoot! gently! there you are! Now off with ye, as if the divil was at your heels!” cried Bart, as the horse, with her fair burden, dashed lightly through the breach, and cantered off in the direction indicated by the finger of her master.
Pausing to replace the fence, lest the opening should attract the notice of those coming on behind, Bart rapidly followed, and, in another minute, the fugitives were safely screened from observation by the thick foliage of the different clumps of bushes, which they managed to keep between them and the road they had just quitted.
“There is a house,” said Bart, musingly, after they had proceeded a while in silence—“there is a house about half a mile ahead, and nearly the same distance from the great road, with woods between, which is a place I called at when I came down, and which I had been all along calculating to turn off to, for a short stop, as we might shape our course to do now, if not somewhat risky.”
“A little rest and refreshment would certainly be very acceptable,” said the other, “if it could be safely obtained. Who lives there?”
“Well, some folks.”
“Loyalists?”
“Tories, d'ye mean? No, not by a jug full.”
“Who are they, then, sir?”