"Yes, dis is it," Derrick Molleston said. "See me, Cap'n Van. I's all heah."
As they advanced up a shady lane, fire from somewhere began to make a certain illumination in spite of the loud storm.
"It's Bill Greenley. He's set de jail afire," the negro exclaimed. "See me, O see me!"
The conflagration gave a vapory red light to a secluded dwelling they now approached, upon a bowery lawn, and Sorden saw a woman of a severe aspect looking out of a window at the fire.
"What is the meaning of this trespass so late at night?" she called. "Are you robbers? My aged husband is asleep."
"Madam," answered Sorden, "here is the husband of Mrs. Patty Cannon. She was your brother's mother-in-law. I love this man as I never loved A male. He is wounded, and we want him taken in till he can have a doctor."
"Take him to the jail, then, if that is not it burning yonder," the woman exclaimed, scornfully. "Shall I make the home of the Chancellor of Delaware a hospital for Patty Cannon's men as a reward for her sending my brother to the gallows?"
She closed the window and the blind, and left them alone in the storm.
"Drive, Derrick, to your den at Cooper's Corners, quick, then," Sorden said.
As they left the lane a flash of lightning, so near, so white, that they seemed to be within the volume and crater of it, enveloped the wagon. One horse sank down on his haunches, and the other reared back and tore from his harness, while the wagon was overset.