"I could have sworn it before, but now I know some one was there. That milk can could not fall down without hands. I'll find the scurvy wretch and thrash him into sense!"
The milk can had been thrown down, but no one was in sight, and after a search the party returned to the large kitchen, where they again replenished their glasses with cider.
In an interval of the fraternal mirth Eben got close to Allen and asked him to spare a few moments.
"What is it, Eben?"
"I like it not, colonel. Some one was at that window at the time you were discovered, and the knocking over of the milk can was an accident; the man who did it has gone to find some English who will pay well for your capture."
"You are too suspicious, Eben."
"Perhaps so, colonel, but do be careful."
"I will. I have no desire to get into any jail, and I am sure that I like life too well to risk it needlessly."
It was after ten o'clock, a late hour in those days, before the farmer would listen to any suggestion of retiring for the night.
He wanted Allen to sleep in the house—the others were to occupy the hay loft—but Allen declared that he would share the loft with his friends, and that no man should say that he had accepted better treatment than his followers.