“True; so you are. But there is one thing of which I wish to inform you before we proceed further. He who follows me to-night, must follow blindfolded!”
Tom flashed him a quick look; for a moment the proposition staggered him. Had he come too far? was he about to enter a snare, or could it be that he was already in one! The dark man noticed his hesitation and a smile glimmered across his hawk-like face.
“You are not afraid?” asked he; and there was something like a sneer lurking in his even tones.
“Not I,” said Tom, proudly. “I am here for a purpose; if it is necessary for me to be blindfolded to carry it through, then blindfolded I will be. I have faced sterner things than darkness and a single man, sir, many times.”
The scarred-faced man laughed.
“They told me that you were not lacking in courage,” said he; “and I find that they were right. But come,” he took a large black kerchief from his pocket, “we have no time to lose.”
He urged his big gray horse alongside Sultan; in a moment the black kerchief was tightly tied about Tom’s eyes; the lad could not see anything—all was dark—black—unknown!
“I will ride slightly ahead,” said the man quietly when his task was done. “Give your horse a free rein; he will follow mine, and in that way you need have no fear of his carrying you into danger.”
Tom said nothing in reply; he was not quite as sure of this as the guide seemed to think he should be. It was a strange experience to be riding through the enemy’s country, under the guidance of a stranger and upon an errand whose every element breathed mystery; he did not know at what moment a quick, deadly blow might fall upon him; his hand rested upon the butt of his pistol, ready to draw it forth at a moment’s notice; his ears were constantly strained to catch the slightest sound that might portend danger.
They rode for a long time, then suddenly turned off the road, and headed across a plantation which lay to the left. They continued across this for some time, then turned off another road, and this time to the right. Within the next half hour they turned and twisted in many directions; Tom realized that the purpose was to confuse him; the place where he was to meet the writer of the strange message was to remain a mystery, it was considered necessary to prevent his knowing the way there did he ever desire to repeat the visit.