"My son Tom is at home, and my nephew, Major Gadbury, is visiting at Lyndhall. But all of them, including my two daughters, have gone to a party at Rock Lodge. I suppose you know the place, Major?"
"It is over on the old road, close by Rock Hill, from which it takes its name. You must have met Captain Carms."
"I have met him, and we have called upon him, but I never heard the name of his place before."
"Just at the foot of Rock Hill there is a cart-path connecting the two roads, and the ruffians may come through by that passage, though it is very rough. Most of our stone comes from the quarry there, and the teams make bad work with the roads."
"The enemy can't be a great way behind us by this time," suggested Major Lyon.
"We haven't wasted any time, and it is some distance they had to travel round by the Cross Roads," replied the colonel, as he urged his steed to greater speed.
Though the road was anything but a smooth one, Deck Lyon slept like a log on the hay. His dusky companions did not speak a loud word for fear of waking him. Nearly half an hour after the horsemen had passed it, the wagon was approaching the cross-cut between the two roads at Rock Hill. Clinker the blacksmith, who had been excused from ambulance duty and another put in his place, was driving the horses.
"Cristofus! Wat's dat?" he exclaimed, as two very distinct female screams struck his ears, and he set his team into a dead run.
"'Pears like it's women screeching," replied Mose, who was by his side on the front seat. "Dar's trouble dar!"
"I reckon do screeches comed out'n de cross-cut," added Clinker.
The screams were repeated several times, and as the wagon passed the hill the sounds of an encounter were heard. It was evident that a fight of some kind was in progress, and the men in the wagon unslung their breech-loaders ready for action; for they came to the conclusion at once that the ruffians were at the bottom of it. No shots were heard, and it did not appear that the marauders were armed.
"I reckon we mus' woke Mars'r Deck," said Clinker, as he reined in his horses at the cross-cut.
One of the men at his side shook the tired boy, and he sprang to his feet; for doubtless he was dreaming of the events of the night. Clinker explained the situation in as few words as his vocabulary would permit. Deck seized his musket and leaped from the wagon, followed by all but the driver, who drove the horses to a tree and fastened them there.