The three cavalrymen reloaded their weapons, and were immediately ready for the next move. The three men at the rope seemed to be appalled at the fate of their associates, and released their hold upon it. A moment later they began to skulk off in the direction of the grove.
"Don't let them escape, Owens!" said Deck, to the one nearest to him.
Both of them darted off at a gallop, and headed them off, driving them back to the tree from which the rope was hanging. Again Deck seized the line, and urged his horse up to the place where the planter was standing. Reaching down from his seat in the saddle, he cut the cords that bound the prisoner, and then directed him to remove the rope from his neck.
"I owe my life to you, young man," said Mr. Barkland, panting with emotion and excitement.
"I suppose you are a Union man, sir?" added Deck.
"I am; and that is the reason why I am subjected to this outrage," replied the intended victim.
"What brought you here, Deck Lyon? Who sent you here to interfere with my business?" demanded Captain Titus, confronting his nephew with a savage frown.
"We shall not allow any such business as this," answered Deck, who was not at all inclined to parley with the captain of the late Home Guards, now in the service of the Confederacy. "You and those with you will consider yourselves as prisoners of war."
"Prisoners of war!" exclaimed Captain Titus. "I reckon we ain't nothin' of the sort. Do you mean to take six on us with only three?"
"We shall not take the trouble to count your numbers. Mr. Barkland, you can return to your house, for your wife and daughter are very anxious about you. I hope you have not been injured, sir."