She made no reply; he listened for a moment and then went half-way down the broad stone steps that led to the veranda, and looked about searchingly. Tom flattened himself against the wall of the house; the thick, odorous runners of the vine hung in a heavy screen before him, effectually hiding him from Mark’s prying eyes. At length the latter returned to the veranda, but his suspicions were aroused, and he looked at Lucy from under his frowning brows. “Did you hear a voice?” inquired he. But still she did not answer; he bit his lip vexedly, then laughed. “Do you know,” said he, “when I stood just inside the door there, before coming out, I heard voices. Who were you talking to?” “I was talking to myself,” said Lucy, truthfully. “A likely story,” he sneered. “However, if there is any one lurking about here I’ll beat him out like a rabbit.” He turned to the door and paused with his hand upon the catch. “And, by the way, Miss Lucy,” he continued, “you need not trouble yourself to warn your friend the rebel, if there is one near at hand; for it will do no good. We’ll catch him if he were as elusive as the Swamp-Fox, himself.” Then the door closed behind him; Lucy with her breath catching in sobs of fright, sprang down the steps. “Where are you?” she cried. “Here,” answered Tom, stepping from his hiding-place. “You are in great danger,” panted Lucy. “I heard all,” said the boy, quietly. “Run,” she cried. “They will have no mercy, if they take you.” “I should expect none in that event.” The tramp of feet sounded in the hall, coming toward the door. “They are coming,” exclaimed the poor, frightened girl. “Oh, what will you do?” “Calm yourself. If you look as frightened as all that they will be assured that they are upon the scent of something. Be brave; I know you can do it, Lucy, if you want to.” He was unable to say more before the door opened. He turned and ran rapidly and softly until he rounded the corner of the house at the upper side. A group of fierce, hectoring men, with sabres belted at their waists, trooped out at the heels of Mark Harwood. “Now, gentlemen,” said the latter, “I’m pretty sure that there is a skulking rebel concealed about here somewhere. Scatter, and run your blades into every bush. We’ll be sure to stir him out of his hiding.” The Tories did as directed, while Lucy stood watching them from the steps. She seemed calm enough; but the twitching of her mouth and the light in her eyes showed the fear that was almost overwhelming her. However, she had no cause for immediate fear, for the very daring of Tom Deering had, by this time, placed him out of pressing danger. Upon the upper side of the house were a number of long, narrow windows, set with diamond shaped panes of glass. These opened from the dining-room; and at the very first one, upon turning the corner of the house, the lad saw the black, scared face of the slave Dogberry, looking down at him.