Proceeding slowly, stopping at frequent intervals and then resuming his efforts, he steadily drew nearer to the farmhouse he had perceived in the distance. How much time had been consumed he could not determine. The minutes seemed like hours to the struggling lad. His own danger was all forgotten for the time, and the one purpose in his mind was to carry Lieutenant Gordon to some place of safety, where it should be possible to do something for the relief of the desperately wounded man.
At last, only one more lot remained to be crossed, and with renewed hope Tom was about to lift his burden, which he had dropped for one of his brief rests, when he suddenly discovered a man running toward him. Startled and alarmed by the sight he quickly perceived that the approaching man was Friend Nathan, who, hatless and with a dripping face, was soon by his side.
"Thou hast put me to shame, Friend Thomas," said Nathan soberly. "Thou art a better man than I, as well as a braver. I know not why it was, but when my hat was lifted from my head, and I perceived that hole the bullet had made, I lost my self-control. My teaching has been that of peace and I am poorly prepared for the contests of war. I will give thee no cause to complain now."
"Take hold, then," said Tom quickly. "We must get the lieutenant out of this heat, or there'll be no hope for him."
Nathan eagerly responded, and tenderly lifting the wounded man they proceeded across the lot.
When they halted for their first rest, Nathan said, "I have a word to say to thee, Friend Thomas. What did Washington say to thee when he heard thy demand for a recompense for the beast I let thee have?"
"Say? He didn't say anything, because I didn't say anything to him. You don't suppose he hadn't anything more to do than to talk with a boy like me about your old, broken-winded razor-back, do you? I don't even know what has become of the beast. I know I'm glad I don't have to ride it any more."
"'Tis well, Friend Thomas," replied Nathan, although Tom thought he discovered a trace of disappointment in the expression upon his face. "'Tis well, and I would not have it otherwise. I have been humiliated by my weakness in deserting thee, a mere lad, at such a time as this. I would like also to restore to you the half-joe you paid me for my beast." And as Nathan spoke, he drew the coin from his pocket and held it forth for Tom to take.
"I don't want your money," said the lad quickly. "Take hold of the lieutenant again, and this time we'll not stop before we come to the house."
Once more they tenderly took up their burden, and slowly advancing, soon approached the house. In the doorway a man and a young woman, evidently his daughter, were standing, watching the movements of the approaching men with a curiosity which the noise of the battle in the distance could not entirely dispel.