“Dorothea, there must be something we can do,” she said emphatically. “Didn’t Val give you a hint of where he might be going?”
Dorothea shook her head.
“He had no idea himself, April,” she replied. “Captain Tracy had roused the whole country, hoping to capture Mr. Hendon before he could get through to Savannah.”
She would have gone on but, on answering a knock at the door, they found Lucy.
“Please, Miss Dee,” began the colored maid, “there’s a boy down stairs wantin’ mighty bad to see you-all.”
“To see me?” Dorothea questioned, not knowing who it could possibly be. “What kind of a boy, Lucy?”
“Oh, jes’ one of ’em ordinary boys, Miss,” answered the girl as if she were giving an entirely adequate description. “I reckon he’s come some ways, seein’ he’s ridin’ a poor, skin-and-bones mule.”
Together the girls went down and found a farmer’s boy, twelve years old or so, who, in answer to their questions, silently produced a folded sheet of paper with Dorothea’s name written on the outside.
Quickly she opened it, glanced at the signature and saw that it was from Val Tracy; then she read as follows:
“I have found Hendon. He is in the hands of a band of Irregulars who insist upon executing him as a spy. I have done everything I can, but it is of no use. They won’t let me even see him, but have brought me a message from him. He wants to see April before he dies, and the men have given us twenty-four hours. That means sunset to-morrow. I don’t know whether she will consent to come, but the least I could do was to make this effort to get her. I should, perhaps, have gone to her myself, but it would seem like abandoning Hendon and I am still trying to persuade these men that, although he is an enemy, they have no right to kill him. Somehow I feel dreadfully sorry for Hendon, but I am afraid he is doomed. If you can persuade April to come, the boy who bears this will show her the way. I shall see you as soon as this dreadful business is over. Yours faithfully, Val Tracy.”