"Shoot me through the head then: it's the only thing that'll help me to stop it."
Mr. Lilburn, keeping well in the shadow of the trees, had hurried after the retreating foe, and concealing himself behind a clump of bushes close to the gate, caused his bugle note to sound in their ears as if coming from a point some half a mile distant.
Convinced that a detachment of United States troops were almost upon them, those carrying the dead and wounded dashed into the wood with their burdens, while in hot haste the others mounted and away, never drawing rein until they had put several miles between them and the scene of their attempted outrage.
Meantime those in the wood, moving as rapidly as possible under the circumstances, were plunging deeper and deeper into its recesses.
There was an occasional groan or half suppressed shriek from others of the wounded, but Boyd's cries were incessant and heart-rending, till a handkerchief was suddenly thrust into his mouth with a muttered exclamation, "Necessity knows no law! it's to save your own life and liberty as well as ours."
At length, well nigh spent with their exertions, the bearers paused, resting their burdens for a moment upon the ground, while they listened intently for the sounds of pursuit.
"We've baffled 'em, I think," panted Bill, "I don't hear no more of that—tramp, tramp, and the bugle's stopped too."
"That's so and I reckon we're pretty safe now," returned another voice.
"But what's to be done with these fellows? where'll we take 'em?"
"To Rood's still-house," was the answer. "It's about half a mile further on, and deep in the woods. And I say you, Tom Arnold, pull off your disguise and go after Dr. Savage as fast as you can. Tell him to come to the still-house on the fleetest horse he can get hold of; and bring along everything necessary to dress scalds and pistol-shot wounds. Say there's no time to lose or Boyd'll die on our hands. Now up with your load, boys, and on again."
The voice had a tone of command and the orders were instantly obeyed.