Artie departed on the instant, and Deck remained on the roof. He could see from his lofty position all that took place in the vicinity. He saw the six prisoners, including his uncle, Captain Titus, marched down the slope with an escort of half-a-dozen troopers. The baggage-wagons followed them; and the company was formed in the road by fours. Captain Gordon had hurried the preparations to the best of his ability.
"The pickets are coming in, Dexter," said Major Lyon, as he returned the field-glass to the case slung at his side. "You can take your place in the ranks, my son. Whether the pickets have been sent for, or are driven in by the enemy, I don't know. We will see when we reach the ground."
The young man followed his father down the stairs. In the lower entry they met the family; and the planter expressed regret that they were about to leave the vicinity of his house.
"I have felt that I was protected from insult and depredation while your command was here, and I am sorry to have you go," said Mr. Barkland.
"I am afraid we should do you more harm than good if we remained," replied the major. "If we stayed here it might produce a fight, and that would imperil your family. I think the enemy will be too much in a hurry to stop to molest you if they march by this road, as they may or may not."
"I had hoped to see more of your son who rendered such a great service last night," said Mrs. Barkland.
"And I wanted to see him very much," said the daughter.
"They have no time to meet you at present."
"But what is the matter with your arm, Mr. Lyon?" asked Miss Barkland, when she discovered the extra bandage which the doctor had put on outside of his coat.
"I got a scratch; but it wasn't the cat that did it," replied Deck, laughing.