Out of the deep, clear sky overhead the stars shone softly, but afar in the northwest lay great masses of clouds. Constant flashes of lightning shot over them, and through the profound silence came the dull mutterings of thunder. It was a good time for the raiders to be abroad, and the thought quickened Ephraim's steps. He felt sure they would come before moonrise. On the other side of the ridge he traversed a wilder region of country. Half an hour's rapid walking brought him to a small clearing, surrounded by a low rail-fence. In the centre of the clearing stood a cabin, a stream of ruddy light pouring from its open door. It was where the Coles lived. Two fierce hounds greeted Ephraim's approach with loud, hostile barking, and when he called out to them a young woman appeared at the door with a child on her breast—Elisha Cole's sister-in-law.
"Any o' the men folks at home, Mis' Cole?" Ephraim inquired, leaning over the fence.
"No; John an' his pap have gone over to Fannin County, an' 'Lishy's just started to the 'stillery."
"Oh!—just started, you say?"
"Yes; he ain't been gone five minutes. Won't you come in, Eph'um?"
"Not to-night, Mis' Cole. I 'lowed I'd see 'Lishy before he got off."
With a brief good-night he turned away, following a trail leading down through a ravine. It was a wild, lonely way, and so dark that one could scarcely see an inch ahead. But the pathway presently took an upward turn, and the gray starlight penetrated the sparse underbush. He heard the snapping of twigs ahead of him, and whistled softly. Then the sound of stealthy footsteps fell upon his alert ears. He ran forward a few paces, not daring to speak; then he stumbled over the prostrate body of a man.
"'Lishy," he whispered, peering into the upturned face.
"Is it you, Eph'um?"
"Yes; what's the matter?"