"Dot and go one," was the answer. "Hop, skip, and a jump. There's no one can beat me at it. Come, lad, into the saddle."
As George settled himself and reached forward for the reins old Peter struck the mare a slap on the flank.
"G'long, Molly," he said. "Take good care of him."
Then he turned and started back at a furious pace along the drifted road. It would have taken a good walker to have caught up with him.
If George had known the adventures that were soon to befall him his heart might have failed him. He had ridden on for some hours, when he thought he heard the sound of distant shots ahead. It was past noonday when he came in sight of Lyons Farms.
CHAPTER XXII.
A FORCED OPPORTUNITY.
We left William standing in the hallway at Stanham Manor. When Cato had gone with the heavy saddle-bags, he closed the door that led to the north wing softly behind him.
Lieutenant Frothingham was left alone. He sighed and rested his elbow on the back of a tall chair, and gazed into the glowing embers on the hearth. For a long time he remained motionless, and when he looked up again and out of the window he saw that a black cloud had obscured the moon. But there was a small circle of light moving down the lane. Long black shadows wavered across the snow on the meadow.
He stepped to the window sill, and at last could make out that it was a lantern, and that the shadows were those of the man's legs who carried it. There were dark objects behind him, and now the figures turned about the corner and came straight toward the house. He heard the slamming of a side door, and saw Cato step outside and start to meet the new-comers.