"To CAPTAIN ELIAS WILKINS, Royal Fusiliers.
"My dear Captain: You will proceed at once across the river with a detail of five men mounted and three days' rations, and, if possible, capture the prisoner who escaped early this morning, making a thorough search of the woods in Jefferson County. He has information of value to the enemy, and I regard his death or capture of high and immediate importance. I am informed that the young desperado who murdered my Lord of Pickford in the forest below Clayton June 29, escaping, although badly wounded, is lying at the country-seat of the Baroness de Ferre, a Frenchwoman, at Leraysville, Jefferson County, New York. It would gratify me if you could accomplish one or both captures. With respect, I am,
"Your Obedient Servant,
"R. SHEAFFER, General Commanding."
"They 'll be here," said D'ri. "They 'll be here jest es sure es
God—'fore daylight, mebbe. But I can't fight er dew nothin' till
I 've tied some vittles."
"You shall have supper," said the baroness, who, without delay, went to the kitchen herself with a servant to look after it. The butler brought a pair of slippers and a dry coat, while I drew off the boots of my good friend. Then I gave him my arm as he limped to the kitchen beside me. The baroness and I sat near him as he ate.
"Go upstairs and call the gentlemen," said she to the butler, "Do not make any disturbance, but say I should like to speak with them in the dining room."
"Is thet air hired man o' yours a Britisher?" D'ri inquired as soon as the butler was gone.
"He is—from Liverpool," said she.
"Thet's the hole 'n the fence," said he. "Thet's where the goose got away."
"The goose! The geese!" said the baroness, thoughtfully. "I do not understand you."