"Courage, John," said Horse Shoe, smiling at the new garb of his comrade; "you may show your pretty feathers to-day to them that are fond of looking at them. And you, my young clodpole, ride like an honest Whig, or I mought find occasion to do a discomfortable thing, by putting a bullet through and through you. Excuse the liberty, sir, for these are ticklish times; but I shall ondoubtedly be as good as my word."
Our adventurers soon resumed their journey. They had come within a mile of the Saluda without interruption, and began to exchange congratulations that the worst was passed, when they found themselves descending a sharp hill which jutted down upon an extensive piece of pasture ground. One boundary of this was watered by a brook, along whose margin a fringe of willows, intermixed with wild shrubbery of various kinds, formed a screen some ten or fifteen feet in height. As soon as this range of meadow was observed, our cautious soldiers halted upon the brow of the hill to reconnoitre; and perceiving nothing to excite their apprehension, they ventured down, upon the track of an ill-defined road, which took a direction immediately over the broadest portion of the field.
They had scarcely crossed the brook at the bottom of the hill, before they heard the remote voices of men in conversation, and the tones of a careless laugh. On looking towards the upper section of the stream, they were aware of a squad of loyalist cavalry, who came riding, in the shade of the willows, directly towards the spot where the travellers had entered upon the meadow. The party consisted of seven or eight men, who were, at this instant, not more than one hundred paces distant.
"They are upon us, sergeant!" exclaimed John Ramsay. "Make sure of the prisoner: retreat as rapidly as you can. Leave me to myself. Make for the Block-house—I will meet you there."
With these hasty intimations, he pricked his courser up to full speed, and shaped his flight directly across the open field, in full view of the enemy.
Horse Shoe, at the same moment, drew a pistol, cocked it, and throwing the rein of St. Jermyn's horse into the hands of the rider, he cried out:—
"Back across the branch and into the woods! Push for it, or you are a dead man! On, on!" he added, as he rode at high speed immediately beside the ensign; "a stumble, or a whisper above your breath, and you get the bullet. Fly—your life is in your horse's heels!"
The resolute tone of the sergeant had its effect upon his prisoner, who yielded a ready obedience to the pressing orders, and bounded into the thicket with as much alacrity as if flying from an enemy.
Meanwhile, the troopers, struck with the earnest haste of one whose dress bespoke a British officer, speeding across the field, did not doubt that they had afforded this timely opportunity for the escape of a prisoner from the hands of the Whigs.
"Wheel up, lads," shouted the leader of the squad, "it is the ensign! Wheel up and form a platoon to cut off the pursuit. We have him safe out of their clutches!"