Uncle Dan had no need to recall his men, for they were already returning from the useless pursuit of the flying Confederates, who were now ascending the mountain side a mile away. When he ordered them to bring up the prisoner, that had been captured at the creek, the soldiers looked inquiringly one at another; every one declared it was the business of some one else to have remained on guard. It soon became evident that no one had been left behind to care for the red-headed rebel, and that he had resented this lack of attention by departing. Uncle Dan instructed his sergeant to make preparations for immediate return to Snagtown and then went into the house. Mrs. Jackson met him with anxious inquiries if her husband had been killed. "What kinder man was he--red hair?" "Yes, oh yes! Is he dangerously wounded?" "And red eyebrows?" "Yes, yes, yes! Pray tell me the worst at once." "And red eyelashes--long and red?" "Yes, oh yes! Pray don't keep me in suspense." "And a red face?" "Yes, yes!" "And was carryin' two buckets for water?" "Oh, heavens! Yes. I know he is killed. Tell me where he lays that I may find him." "Madam," said Uncle Dan, gravely, "that red man made his escape, as well as all the others." The look of blank confusion and joyful amaze that overspread Mrs. Jackson's face was singular to behold. The old scout, having thus summarily disposed of Mrs. Jackson, turned to Irene and drew from her the relation of all that had happened to her since the evening she had left. When she had concluded with her forced marriage, she burst into tears. "The rascal!" said Uncle Dan, with energy. "Both a rascal and a fool. Where did he go?" he asked, after a moment's pause. "I do not know," said Irene, weeping softly. "He left a few minutes after, and I have not seen him since." "I don't know much about law," said Uncle Dan, after a few minutes' reflection, "but I know that ain't no wedding worth a cent." "I did not agree to it, I did not consent, but the clergyman pronounced us man and wife," sobbed Irene. "I don't care if he did, I heard a lawyer once say that marriage was a civil contract, and if any one was induced to marry by fraud, or forced to marry any one they did not want to, it was no good. Now, although I aint a lawyer, I know you aint married, unless you want to be." Irene still sat sobbing before the fire by the broad fire-place, which Uncle Dan's own hands had built. At this moment a soldier looked in and said: "The rebs are comin' down the mountains re-enforced." "Be quiet, honey, an' I'll see you are protected. Don't leave the cabin unless I tell you to." Uncle Dan hastened out, snatching his rifle from the door, as he went, and looked up towards the mountains. Twenty-five or thirty Confederates, headed by Oleah Tompkins, were riding at a gallop toward them. "They mean business, Uncle Dan," said a young man, who stood by the old man's side.