As a matter of precaution, Warren closed the great doors, though a smaller one was left open on one side of them. They found that all the horses in the stable were saddled and bridled for use. While he was wondering what this meant, a dozen blacks rushed in through the open door. They seemed to be greatly alarmed. Adjoining the stable on each side were the carriage-houses; and Warren hastened into one of them, supposing that the marauders were pursuing them; but no enemy followed them. The negroes went into the stalls, and began to lead out the horses. "What does all that mean, Warren?" asked Fronklyn in a whisper. "I don't know," replied the planter's son, as he cocked his rifle, and returned to the stable. "What are you about here?" he demanded. "Mars'r Warren!" exclaimed several of them. "What are you going to do with the horses, Phil?" asked Warren. "Who shut the big doors, Mars'r Warren?" asked Phil, who appeared to be an upper servant of some kind. "What are you going to do with the horses, Phil?" exclaimed the planter's son angrily. "I thought the robbers had got into the stable, and I wanted to save the horses," replied the servant, breaking down at the tone of the master's son. "You are lying, Phil! You would not have dared to come into the stable if you had supposed the robbers were here." "We was gwine to run away on de hosses," added a very black fellow. "Don't know who shut de big doors, Mars'r, if de robbers don't do it," said another, who was evidently a field-hand. "I didn't think there was more'n one of them here," added Phil, as he held up a revolver with which he had armed himself after the departure of the planter. "I meant to kill him, and get away with the horses." "Perhaps you would have done so." "I do it for sure." "Now, where are the robbers?" asked Warren. "In the house. We don't see any for more'n half an hour. I think they looked part of the house over to find the money, and then went up-stairs to hunt for it," replied Phil, who appeared to be an intelligent fellow, far superior to the rest of them. "Very well; you may get on the horses, and ride down the avenue till you meet the colonel," added the son of the planter. "Now, Sergeant, we will find the condition of things in the house." The negroes led all the horses down an inclined plane into the cellar. This was not an uncommon device in large cities to economize space; but the planter had caused it to be built for just such an emergency as the present, and he had made his escape in this manner from the estate. The terrified servants mounted the horses in the cellar, and entered the avenue by the way Warren and the sergeant had left it.