Yes, it was the terrible Tarleton, himself; he had been making a short cut through the swamp in order that he might rejoin a detachment of his dragoons, when they had come upon this lonely cabin. “Surrender, you jackanapes!” he roared, in a fury at Tom’s bold demand. “I’ll teach you something that you will not forget in a hurry!” And with that he began a furious attack upon the boy, aiming sweeping cuts at his head and downward slashes at his sword-arm with marvelous rapidity; but Tom, managing his chestnut mount with his left hand, guarded himself carefully, allowing no opening in his defence. But in a few moments the superior skill and experience of Tarleton, together with his greater weight, began to tell; step by step, the boy was driven back, dazzled by the flashing sabre darting so swiftly here and there before his eyes. A fierce grin of triumph came into the Englishman’s face; victory was in his hands; this presumptuous youth who had dared to face him was about to learn a lesson which he would never forget. But Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton had not counted upon Cole. In the very moment of his triumph, when his heavy blade was lifted for a last and finishing stroke, a pair of huge, black arms, as strong as bands of steel, were thrown about him; his sabre was dashed to the ground and he, burly man though he was, found himself plucked from his saddle and gazing up into the grinning, ebony face of the giant slave. Tom looked down, panting from his exertions, but smiling at the British officer’s discomfiture. “Hold him fast, Cole,” said he, as the officer began a desperate struggle to break away from the bear-like hug which held him. “No use in struggling, colonel”--the boy perceived the captive’s rank by a glance at his uniform coat. “You are in the hands of the strongest man in South Carolina.” “You black dog,” fumed Tarleton, making a prolonged and desperate struggle to break free, “let go, or I’ll be the death of you.” Cole grinned widely; he coolly pinned the fuming colonel to the ground by the simple process of kneeling upon his chest; his splendid white teeth flashed his entire enjoyment of the whole affair. “Take care,” said Tom, a note of sternness now in his voice, “that this affair, here at the cabin, does not end in your own death. Let us see what damage you have done.” The two boys who had been stationed behind the trees defending their home when Tom and Cole came up, had approached and were looking with some astonishment at the herculean black and at the wondrous ease with which he mastered the powerful king’s officer. “Has any one been hurt?” asked Tom. “Father has been wounded slightly,” said one of the youths. “But it’s not much, for he’s on his feet again, as you can see.” The man who had lain upon the ground at the cabin door was limping painfully, with the aid of the woman, to a spring near at hand. The trooper whom Cole had unhorsed was attending to the wants of his wounded comrades.