“Yes, she said that. I think the less you fellows say at home of the runaway the better for you and your friend, Captain Verney. You see, the lost map will make a heap of trouble for him--and for you, too, if you are not careful. “Then your mother began to ask questions, but I said I was in a hurry, and that on New Year’s Eve she must get a pass for a chaise and man to meet you on the west side of the middle ferry about nine at night. I said, too, ‘Thy boys may have difficulty about a map. Best to see them alone before Brimstone can question them. It was very foolish for them to run away with that map.’ “When I spoke of the map she laughed and said: ‘Was that why the horses ran away? Oh, Tom, Tom!’ “Then I said: ‘They can’t do anything to your boys.’ “‘No, but Mr. Verney and the Colonel were much blamed and are very cross. However, that night I can see the boys alone. The officers--I mean the Colonel and Captain Verney--are to take supper with Mr. Penn at his house over the river.’ “I asked if it was the place in the woods above the Schuylkill, the place he calls The Solitude. I wanted to be sure. Your mother said: ‘Yes. It is there, I believe.’ It set me to thinking. “Of a sudden she turned on me and said: ‘You are no Quaker.’ “I laughed and said: ‘No, madam, I am Captain Allan McLane, at your service.’ “This did scare her for the risk I ran, but I said there was none. She sent you her love. That’s all my story. We found the horses, Tom. I shall take one and my Lieutenant the other.” “I don’t like that,” said Tom. “Spoils of war, sir; and now get to bed.” “And the fur coats?” asked Tom, anxiously honest. “We shall return the Count’s. I shall keep the Colonel’s. Now to bed, boys.” “Thank you, sir,” said Tom. “That was a fine story,” said Bill. “I like real true stories.” “And it ends just right,” said Harry. “Oh, that is not the end,” laughed McLane. Then the boys were curious and questioned their friend, but he would tell them no more. “To bed,” he cried, and rolled them up in blankets on the cabin floor. IV The days went by, and on the afternoon of December thirtieth the boys rode out of camp, the twins well wrapped up in front of troopers and Tom mounted on a troop-horse. The day was pleasant and warm for the season, and McLane pushed on at speed down the west side of the river. It was a long and hard ride and the twins were tired when, nine miles from the city, at a friendly farmer’s, pickets were put out and they spent the night and were well fed.