"What is the matter, Pompey?" asked Mr. Tompkins, as the boy stood breathless before him. "Oh, gracious, mars, don't know, 'cept they be's a band o' brigantines as wants to see you down at the gate." Mr. Tompkins smiled at Pompey's terror, and rose to go, but Mrs. Tompkins, who did not like the angry gesticulations of the strangers at the gate, accompanied her husband. "Is your name Tompkins" asked the ferocious-looking leader, as the planter and his wife paused just inside the gate. "It is, sir. Whom have I the honor of addressing?" returned Mr. Tompkins. "I am Sergeant Strong of the Independent Mounted Volunteers of Jeff. Davis, and I have come here to hang you, sir." Mrs. Tompkins gave a scream and clung to her husband. "The men are only joking, Camille; can't you see they are only joking?" said Mr. Tompkins, to soothe his terrified wife. "You'll find out that we're not joking," said the leader of the band, dismounting and fastening his horse to an ornamental tree on the lawn. Six of his men followed his example, leading their horses inside the gate, and hitching them to the fence or trees. "Men what do you mean?" said Mr. Tompkins, who took great pride in his shrubbery. "I do not allow horses to be tied near my trees." "We'll tie you to one of your trees soon and see how you like it, with a dance in the air." Mrs. Tompkins clung to her husband, half dead with terror, and Irene came hurrying from the house. "Go back, Camille; go back with Irene, and wait for me in the house," said Mr. Tompkins. "This is nothing serious." "Ye'll see, sir, if it ain't somethin' serious," said Sergeant Strong, unstrapping a rope from behind his saddle, and uncoiling it. "The law says spies shall suffer death, and we're going to make an example of you, sir." "I am no spy," returned the planter. "Don't suppose I saw ye hangin' 'round our camp, and then shootin' off after sojers at the Junction to come down and lick us! And they just come to-day an' cleaned us most all out, and you shall hang for it." As he spoke he threw one end of the rope over the projecting branch of a large maple tree. "Those terrible men mean what they say," whispered Irene in Mrs. Tompkins' ear. She had comprehended all in a moment's time. "I will run for the overseer and the field hands." She turned to fly, but her motive was interpreted, and one of the men seized her around the waist, saying: "No, my purty gal, ye' don't do nothin' o' the kind jist yit awhile." In vain she struggled to free herself; she was powerless in the man's hands. Mrs. Tompkins, completely overcome, had fainted. "Now, boys, we are ready; bring him here," said Sergeant Strong.