“We’re right now,” said Moylin. “We can take it easy from this on.”
“Neal Ward,” said Felix Matier, “next time you get yourself into a scrape I’ll leave you there. I haven’t been as nervous since I played ‘I spy’ twenty years ago among the whins round the Giant’s Ring. Fighting’s no test of courage. It’s running away that tries a man.”
“Phew!” said Donald, wiping his brow. Even he seemed to have felt the strain of the last half-hour. “I did some scouting work for General Greene in the Carolinas. I’ve lain low in sight of the watch-fires of Cornwallis’ cavalry, but I’m damned if I ever had as close a shave as that. I felt jumpy, and that’s a fact. I think it was the sight of your bare back, Neal, and that blackguard brandishing his belt over you that played up with my nerves.”
“Let’s be getting on,” said Moylin, “my house is ashes now, the house I built with my own hands, the room my wife died in, the bed my girl was born in. She’s safe out of this, thank God. I want to be getting on. I want to be in Antrim to-morrow with a pike in my hand and a regiment of dragoons in front of me.”
Under Moylin’s guidance they travelled across country through the night. About three in the morning, when the east was beginning to grow bright with the coming dawn, they reached a substantial farmhouse and climbed into the haggard.
“We’re within twenty yards of the main road now,” said Moylin, “about a mile and a half outside the town of Antrim. We can lie here till morning. It’s a safe place. The man that owns it won’t betray us if he does find us here.”
At six o’clock Donald Ward awoke. The rest of the party lay stretched around him, sleeping as men do after severe physical exertion and mental strain. He sat still for a while, and then crept out of the barn where they slept, and reconnoitered the farmhouse. He was surprised to find no sign of life about it. Doors and windows were fast shut. No dog barked at him. No cattle lowed. Not even a hen pecked or cackled in the yard. He returned to the barn and roused the rest of the party.
“I’ve been looking round,” he said, “to see what chance we have of getting breakfast. As far as I can make out the place is deserted.”
“I wouldn’t wonder,” said Moylin, “if the man that owns it has cleared out. He’s a bit of a coward, and he’s not much liked in the country because he tries to please both parties.”
“I thought you said last night,” said Donald, “that he wouldn’t betray us.”