I was soon riding southward, the bearer of the message from General Washington to the Council of Safety, sitting at Annapolis; and as I rode, the people hailed me for my news, and gave me food and drink, so I could hurry on.

At last I reached the borders of Maryland, and again rode under the old oak from which I had torn the proclamation. It was only a few weeks before, and I wondered what had been the fate of Charles Gordon.

So, as I rode through the Head of Elk late that afternoon and came to the ferry there, I asked the boatman what they had done with him.

"Forfeiture has been decreed," he answered, "and the new High Sheriff and James Rodolph have gone to-day with a posse and many men to root the traitor out."

"How long ago did they start?"

"About an hour."

"What road did they take?"

"The river road. They expect to reach there about nine o'clock. Jupiter! I'd like to be there and see the flames reddening the sky. It will be a grand sight." He looked longingly through the forest toward the Braes.

"Something else will be dyed crimson, if I know that Tory right."

"That there will be, sir; it will be a lovely scrimmage;" and he sighed at the lost opportunity.

The boat grounded on the south bank, and I mounted Toby.

"A pleasant ride, sir."

"Thanks; good-night."

"Toby," said I, as I patted his neck, "you have travelled many a mile to-day, old fellow; but you will have to cover the ground to-night as you never covered it before. They have an hour's start, and we have a longer distance to go; so double your legs under you, my boy, and go."

Toby rising to the occasion, and the spirit of old Ranter proving true, he broke into the long even gallop that makes the miles pass swiftly. It was a race against time, against James Rodolph and his crew. I knew if once they gained the Braes, black death would stalk among the ruins, for Charles Gordon would never surrender.

The night fell rapidly as we raced along and the miles flew by.

As Toby and I drew near Bohemia Manor, where the road joined the one on which the posse was marching, I reined him in and rode more cautiously. It was well that I did so, for as I approached I heard the low murmur of men's voices and saw their figures in the dim light as they were marching by.

I brought Toby to a halt. The road was cut off that way, so I wheeled him around to ride back a short distance to where the road skirted the open fields of Bohemia Manor. As Toby plunged forward in answer to my spur, I heard a cry and then a shot came whistling by. But I left them behind, and coming to the open fields, I put Toby at the fence and raced across the open country, through the lower fields to the Braes, Toby taking the fences in his stride.

Then I dashed once more across the green lawn of the Braes and drew my sword hilt across the shutter.

There was a stir in the room above me; the shutter was cautiously opened and I was covered by the muzzle of a pistol.

"Who are you?" demanded a voice which I knew to be Charles Gordon's.

"James Frisby of Fairlee," I replied. "I have ridden to warn you, Mr. Gordon. You have only a few minutes to escape in; James Rodolph, with a hundred men behind him, will be here in ten minutes."

"Thank you, lad, for the information. I will give them a warm reception."

"But you cannot hold the Braes against a hundred men; they will burn you out, and then Mistress Jean."

"Hum; that is so, lad. Ride round to the rear of the house."

I did so, and a moment later, they came out on the little porch. The old gentleman had buckled on his sword, and there were pistols in his belt. And she, ah! she never looked more bewitching. Her beautiful hair flowed wild about her shoulders, over the light dark mantle in which she was wrapped. By the flicker of the candle, I saw that a bright flush mantled her cheek, as she spoke rapidly.

"Father, there is an English vessel a few miles down the bay. Call the slaves and escape to it."

"But I cannot take you there."

"I will carry her through the lines," I cried, "and see her safe in the hands of her aunt in Kent."

They hesitated, but the noise in front of the house told of the approaching mob, and there was no time for parley. So, true to my race, I acted quickly, and stooping from my saddle I caught her up gently and placed her on Toby before me.

"It is the only chance, lad. See that you carry her safely."

"I will carry her through or die," I replied with deep conviction. At the touch of the spur Toby sprang forward under his double burden.

"The creek," she cried.

"Yes; but we can swim it."

Indeed it was our only way, as the mob blocked the other roads of escape, so we rode boldly in and swam for the other side. The creek was several hundred yards wide, but Toby bore us bravely until we reached the southern shore, then he plunged forward, threw himself up the bank, and we were out of immediate danger.

There we halted for a moment under the shadow of a great tree and looked back across the water.

We heard the sound of many voices, the howling of the mob, and through the trunks of the trees flickered the glare of the torches. Suddenly shots rang out, a cry of dismay and rage followed, and then the flash of guns and a rattling volley crashed around the house.

"By Jove, he is fighting it out!" But the slender figure on my arm trembled, and I saw that her face was white through the darkness.

"He will escape, Mistress Jean," I said reassuringly; "trust an old Highlander for that." And I saw that her eyes were bright and tense, watching the scene across the water.

"There he goes," she exclaimed joyfully; and there, gliding swiftly through the waters, where the shadow of the trees made the darkness more intense, was a long low boat rowed by stalwart slaves. The sound of the oars was drowned by the clamour of the mob.

"If he passes the neck," I exclaimed, "he will be safe;" for the creek narrowed at its mouth until it was but a hundred yards wide.

"Ride quick to the point," she said.

So Toby plunged forward again at the pressure of my knees, and though he still went gallantly on, I could tell that the strain and the toil of the long march from the north, and his dash from the Head of Elk, were beginning to tell on him.

At last we reached the mouth of the creek, and I brought Toby to a halt under the shadow of a clump of trees, where we could see and yet not be seen. I glanced for a moment out over the waters of the bay, and I saw, several miles to the southward, the gleam of a light as it fell on the waves; I knew it was the English man-of-war.

But Mistress Jean's eyes were eagerly searching the waters of the creek, and she was straining her ears to catch the sound of the oars. Then we were rewarded. For at that moment we heard the long sweep of the oars in the water, and out from the mouth of the creek came the boat, the brawny negroes bending to their task.

The commanding figure of the old Tory stood in the stern, looking back up the creek whence they came. Unconsciously my glance followed his, and I saw that the sky was crimson, and high above the tree-tops the flames licked the skies.

"The Braes!" I exclaimed, and Mistress Jean was about to call out, when there came the sound of galloping hoofs on the other side. A horseman dashed into view, and rode into the water up to the saddle-girths. There was a flash, and the crack of a pistol broke the stillness of the night; then with a gesture of rage, the horseman rose in his stirrups and hurled the pistol far over the water; we heard the splash as it fell.

Then the figure in the boat raised his clenched hand and shook it at the horseman and the flames.

"You fired too quick, Mr. Rodolph," said the ferryman.

"Yes, damn him, he has escaped." He turned his horse and rode into the darkness, while a soft voice whispered in my ear,—

"Thank God."