[Illustration: "Dropped noiselessly overboard and swam ashore."] And Ned, in the deserters' boat, as the dark madness that suggested suicide still held his mind, saw that the shore was near, and taking a musket, dropped noiselessly overboard and swam to shore. There he wandered into the bush, not knowing where, only avoiding every trail of man, for his brain had been so weakened by the shock of his unjust condemnation that he felt he was too disgraced ever to let any man of any nation see his face again. He shot some game, and spent a few days in a tiny limestone cave, then wandered on restlessly, sleeping one night in the bush. Waking the third morning in utter despair, he was almost surprised to hear himself calling out, "What shall I do?" "Be good, that's all," said a clear voice near him, and he sprang up in alarm, to face Bee in a homespun skirt and calico sunbonnet. He heard the sound of chickens and cow-bells, and saw he was close to York. "Ned Edgar!" she exclaimed in delight. "I am so used to have sentries stopping me everywhere, that when I heard you speak, I thought I had better say my name, and let you see me." "Be good, that's all," repeated Ned, looking at her with dazed eyes. "But what can I do good now? Where shall I go?" Bee gasped, dashed off, and was back in a minute with a brimming can of milk. "Drink this," she said severely, and as Ned obeyed, she added, "You are disgraceful; all the men I know are. They shoot each other, and get hurt, and go without proper meals, when they might be at home doing respectable work. Do you know a wonderful thing has happened? Cousin Betty has the dearest baby in the world, and she is here with Mamma Edgar, and Eli is taking care of us all. The baby's name is York--and Cousin Percy stays with his regiment at Lake Champlain, or somewhere. If I were he I would die if I didn't fly home and see my delicious baby the minute it came. But you must come to the house with me and have breakfast." Revived by the milk, Ned followed Bee into York; desolate York with the ashes of her buildings lying black beside the fields no one had plowed or sown that spring. Ned missed the military life at the barracks, and the flag he had always seen over them. The American forces had left, Bee told him, but their ships came in constantly, and Eli was there now. There were few men in the place, no one came to trade, and the streets looked forlorn, for the blight of war was on the land. Edgar's empty store, with its doors swinging idly open, gave Ned a shock. His father, Bee told him was a prisoner of war, but Susie would be glad to see him. Evidently the news of his disgrace had not reached York, but he knew he must not go under his father's roof, nor eat his bread. He began to say something of this, but Bee stopped him. "We will have breakfast out of doors, and eat what Eli brought." "You don't understand, Miss Bee, what my father thinks I am."