About an hour before sundown, Allen Musgrove and Mary, availing themselves of the confusion and relaxed discipline of the post, occasioned by the events of the morning, set out on horseback for David Ramsay's dwelling, whither they were led by a natural anxiety to learn something of the movements of the fugitives.
"It's a pleasure and a happiness, Allen Musgrove," said Mistress Ramsay, as the miller and his daughter sat down in the cabin, "to see you and Mary over here with us at any time, but it is specially so now when we have good news to tell. John and his friend are safe out of reach of Macdonald's men, and—God be praised!—I hope out of the way of all other harms. We have had soldiers dodging in and out through the day, but not one of them has made any guess what's gone with the major; and as for John, they don't seem to suspect him to be on the country-side. It's all Horse Shoe Robinson with them. They say that none but he could have helped to get the major away, and that General Sumpter was the instigator. Well, I'm sure they were welcome to that opinion, for it set them all to looking over towards Broad river, which is as good a direction as we could wish them to travel."
"The less you seem to know about it, with any of these inquiring parties, the better, Mistress Ramsay," said Allen Musgrove, "and I would advise you, even here amongst ourselves, to speak lower, David, what do you hear this evening?"
"Nothing concerning our runaways since they left us at daylight this morning," replied Ramsay. "I should guess them to be somewhere near upon Fair Forest by this time. You know Williams is out-lying upon the upper branches of the river? It is more like hunted deer, Allen, than Christian men, that our poor fellows take to the woods now. God knows what will come of it!"
"He knows and has appointed it," said Musgrove, gravely, "and will in His own good time and with such instruments as shall faithfully work His purpose, give the victory to them that have the right. Man, woman, and child may perish, and house and home may be burnt over our heads, and the blood of brave men may make the dust of the road red; yes, and the pastures rich as if new laid with manure; but the will of God shall be done and His providence be accomplished. The cause of the just shall prevail against the unjust."
"There were no soldiers," inquired Mary, addressing David Ramsay, "that you have heard of, who followed towards Fair Forest? I should be sorry if John was to be troubled with persons going after him; because,"—the maiden hesitated an instant,—"because it's unpleasant and disagreeable to be obliged to be riding off the road, through bushes and briers, to keep out of the way."
"If they were not greatly an overmatch, girl," interrupted Ramsay, "John wouldn't give himself much trouble upon that account."
"Oh, Mr. Ramsay," said Mary earnestly, "I was thinking of that. It's hard to say what John would call an overmatch: men are so headstrong and venturesome."
"That's God's own truth, Mary," interposed Mrs. Ramsay; "and what I have always been telling David and John both. But they never heed me, no more than if I was talking to the child in that cradle."
"I've told John as much myself," said Mary, blushing.