“House!” I cried. “House!” My mind was made up. Whatever came of it, whatever the issue, I would go through with the venture.
Immediately a light shone under the door, a voice cried, “Halloa!” And while, stammering words half-heard, the girl still tried to turn me from my purpose, the door was opened, and a light was flashed in my face. A man confronted me on the threshold, two others slipped by me into the darkness. Probably the purpose of the latter was to cut off my retreat, but I paid no heed to them.
“Can you direct us to the ferry?” I said.
“Why not?” the man drawled. “Step inside, sir. Ben will hold your horse. And a lady? Well, we did not expect to see company and we’ll do the best we can. We shall not be for letting you go in a hurry,” he added with meaning in his tone.
It was not my cue to notice the sneer, or to show suspicion, and I followed the man into the lower room of the mill, a damp stable-like place, where the light fell on the shining, startled eyes of a row of horses tethered at a rack. I ran my eye along them; it was well to know what force I had against me. There were six. We passed behind their heels, and picking our way over the filthy floor followed the man up a ladder to what appeared to be the living-room of the place. As I climbed I heard above me a sharp question and an exultant answer; and, I confess, my heart sank, for I recognized the voice that put the question. It was with no surprise, and certainly it was with no pleasure, that emerging from the trap I found myself face to face with my old acquaintance, Levi.
There were two more of the gang with him—I knew them again. The three men were seated on boxes before a fire, the smoke from which found a leisurely exit through a broken chimney of clay. The walls were formed of squared logs, the shingled roof was festooned with cobwebs. In one corner lay a heap of dirty cornstraw, in another a pile of drift-wood. The floor was a litter of broken casks and cases, with some rotting gear and fishing-nets, and a keg or two.
Levi made me a mock bow. “Evening, Major,” he said, “Well, well, you surely never know your luck! Never know when you’re going to meet old friends! I’m d—d if we’ll part this time as easily as we did last time!”
“We only want the ferry,” I said, playing out my part.
“Oh!” he cried rudely. “Our duty to you, and hang the ferry! We’ve wanted you mightily, Major, and now you are here we mean to keep you. Here, sirree, get up,” he continued, kicking the box from under one of the other men, “Let the lady sit down. Cannot you see that she’s dog-weary?”
The man moved awkwardly out of the way.