“But, Ned, that is very dangerous,” interposed Tom.
“Obey orders!” said Ned, impatiently and angrily; and Tom, with a reproachful glance, left him at once.
Only a slender beam now hung over the flood. On this Ned started to cross, balancing himself with the axe, the group of men watching him eagerly. An inch to the right or to the left, and all was lost. The flames were decreasing now, yet still the beam stood. Then the boat started out slowly across the river. The attention of all was turned towards it for an instant; and, in the mean time, Ned had almost gained the other side. One, two, three blows on the charred part of the beam, and it wavered and fell with a crash as Ned leaped lightly upon the bank. He waved his hand triumphantly, and ran down to meet the boat, which, more than half way across, was now struggling with the powerful current, and yet was visibly nearing the shore. He waved his cap, and started down the river-bank into the copse to meet it. Only two steps, two little steps down the bank, and from the tangled foliage a powerful hand grasped his throat, the cold barrel of a pistol was pressed to his cheek, and a voice fairly hissed the whisper into his ears:—
“Silence! or you are a dead man!”
And for reply, with one mighty effort, he threw off the hand; and, as the pistol-shot resounded through the air, his voice rang out, clear and strong on the still night:—
“Back to the camp, for your lives! The enemy is upon us!”
In an instant more he was seized; and one of the men who had crept upon him said:—
“Damn you, you hound! you have spoiled all our plans.”
Then Ned smiled serenely, and looked calmly at the man.