A little later, with a quiet good-by to her brother, she parted from him and made ready for her own departure. Lutie, her unwilling helper, dawdled so persistently over the packing that Lettice at last spoke up sharply. “We’ll never get ready at this rate. I’ll leave you here to be gobbled up by the British if you don’t move faster, Lutie.” But this threat did not seem to have the desired effect, for, though Lutie hung her head, she looked more cheerful, and Lettice, bending down, regarded her searchingly. “I believe you want to stay,” she said severely. “I believe you want to desert your mistress, Lutie.” Lutie’s head hung still lower. “No, ma’am, Miss Letty, ’deed I doesn’t; but I wisht yuh wa’nt gwine.” “Why? You are so scared of Cockburn and his men, and yet, now there is danger, you don’t want to leave. Ah, I see; it is Jubal. And what does Jubal say, pray?” “He say dey ain’ gwine tech me, but dey gwine run yuh-alls off. An’ he say ef he’d a knowed hit were Mars Torm what runned f’om ’em, he’d foun’ a way ter git him home better’n de way he come.” “Humph!” Lettice was thoughtful. “Lutie,” she cried suddenly, “I believe it was Jubal who informed on him. It was Jubal who showed those wretches the short way here, and he had caused your dear Marster Jamie’s death. Oh, the wretch! Why did I spare him?” “’Deed, Miss Letty, he ain’t gwine hu’t a hair o’ yo’ haid; Jubal ain’. He turr’ble bad over losin’ Mars Jeems; he weep, an’ mo’n, an’ go on; ’deed he do, Miss Letty. He sutt’nly fon’ o’ Mars Jeems. Ev’ybody love him, Miss Letty, an’ Jubal nuvver do him no ha’m, please, Miss Letty.” “Hush, let me think.” She sat with her cheek pensively resting in her hand, thinking deeply. All at once there was heard a clatter below. “Hark!” she cried, starting up. “See what that is, Lutie.” A sharp rap on the door interrupted her, and without waiting a response the room was entered by two or three British soldiers. “We demand that you give up the deserter who has taken refuge here,” said the foremost one. “No deserter is here,” replied Lettice, steadily. “I must beg leave to contradict you,” said the man, looking admiringly at the girl so fair and slight in her black frock. “I speak the truth,” she returned. “You are at liberty to search the premises. Look for yourselves.” “We must press you and your maid into our service,” said the man. “Here, you wench,” he turned to Lutie, “go with your mistress and show us where the man is hidden.” He drew his pistol and touched the cold muzzle to Lutie’s temple. The girl gave a stifled scream, and Lettice grew paler. “You may use whatever force you choose, but you will not succeed in finding any one hidden here,” she said. “I have three brothers; one left us something like a week ago--” “To join your wretched militia, I suppose, and that makes this place our property. We are ordered to spare only non-combatants and their possessions. Help yourselves, boys. Well, miss, the others, where are they?”