"I have given thee the words as they were given me. I am not in the councils of the 'rebels,' as it seemeth good to thee to call them, and cannot say more. It is for thee to judge, not me, who am a man of peace and not familiar with the ways of warlike men."
By this time the men had finished their breakfast, and a hurried consultation followed. The decision at which they arrived was soon apparent when the leader approached Nathan, and, holding forth some silver in his hand, said, "There, take that for the breakfast you've given us."
"I thank thee," replied Nathan, accepting the money.
"Are you going back with us, lad?" said the officer, turning to Tom as he spoke.
"No. You said all you wanted of me was to point out the way to Cranberry."
"So I did, but if this old man speaks the truth,—and I'm inclined to think he does,—you'll be better off with us than you will be to stay behind when the rebels are coming. You'll have a good horse to ride, too; you must not forget that."
"I think I'll stay. I'm not afraid of the rebels, and can find my way all right." Tom's heart was beating rapidly, and the fear that permission for him to remain would not be granted was uppermost in his thoughts.
"Have it your own way, lad, have it your own way. I only spoke what I thought was for your own best good."
He gave a few orders to his men, and in a brief time the band departed, riding swiftly up the road and soon disappearing from sight.
"This was not a bad morning's work, Friend Thomas," said Nathan, when at last the men were gone, jingling the silver in his pocket as he spoke.