In a few moments he was ready. He dropped his crutch cautiously from the window, and began to descend himself. The man among the shadows did not move, though his expectant eyes were on the watch. Andy, keeping well in the shelter of the shade, reached his friend.
"That fellow we met to-day was prowling about the house an hour ago," whispered the master; "he looked boldly into my window. I was awake and saw his features distinctly, though I fancy he thought me unconscious. I saw him leave by the stream path. He thinks me safe for to-night, but they are suspicious, those Britishers, and you and I must get through the passage to their lines to-night. I believe something is afoot, and they do not wish to run any chances. Lead on, Andy McNeal; before break of day I must know all, all that is possible, and be away."
"Follow!" said Andy, trembling with excitement, but losing no time. Down upon hands and knees they went, and no creatures of the wood and night could have been more silent.
"All's well!" came from a far-off sentry; and the man and boy breathed quicker. A moment of rest at the opening of the cave-like path where Andy and the master had first met, then into the narrow gloom toward the danger line.
"The way is narrow," whispered Andy, "but it leads out just behind the British tents."
"Ah! for Vulcan's hammer!" laughed the master softly; "I'd hew me a broader path, Andy. The width of me suffers sorely for the cause." Andy smiled in the darkness. The mirth in the master's voice gave courage.
"It is broader further on," encouraged the guide.
"God be praised for that!" groaned the man as he came in contact again with the rocks.
The crutch had been left at the entrance, well hidden. Hands and knees were all that were needed on that journey. Once a slimy creature crawled across the master's hand, and he uttered an exclamation.