He watched for a few moments; but the colossal negro did not move; he might have been asleep on his feet, so quietly did he stand. A renewed burst of laughter just then came from the house and drew Tom’s attention from him for a moment. When his gaze returned once more, Cole had vanished!
Tom could not believe his eyes for a moment; but a second glance proved to him that the first had been right. There did not seem to be any place near at hand behind which Cole could conceal himself; and Tom was greatly puzzled.
“However,” he muttered, after a time spent in waiting for the great negro to reappear, “wherever Cole is he’ll render a good account of himself; so I need not worry about it.”
He made his way back to the front of the Foster house. The lawn was still deserted; no one was in sight, but the boisterous laughter of the Tories within showed that they were still carrying through their, apparently, fixed plan of revelry.
“I’d like to get a view of what’s going on,” said the lad to himself. “Mr. Foster has done me many favors and been of great assistance to General Marion and the cause; so I’d risk a great deal to help him in any way that I could.”
The more he pondered the matter the more he felt inclined to approach the house; it was a daring thing to do, but a scout for the Swamp-Fox must become accustomed to daring deeds, and Tom had had his share of them.
“If only Cole were here,” thought he, “I would not hesitate a minute. But here goes anyhow; I’ll trust to luck, for this once, though the colonel would be against that sort of thing if he were here. He says always be sure of your aim and of what you are about to strike, before dealing the blow.”
He had started for the house while he was still speaking; as noticed before, there were no windows overlooking the lawn from the first floor; so there was no danger of being overseen in this way; but, still, there was a wide doorway leading out upon a long veranda; some one might come out and discover him at any moment.
He did not breathe freely until he reached the shelter of the walls, against which clung and climbed a thick growth of honeysuckle. This, at least, would afford a slight concealment; and he worked his way slowly along until he was in position to see any one who came out of the house by the front door.
“It’s good that the vine is thick and rather loose at the bottom,” said Tom, drawing the tendrils about him. “It would be a ticklish thing to stand here without any cover at all.”