Thus stood matters, when, one evening, Seaton started to visit the Wilson’s, George having been absent some days on account of the illness of his father. It was some distance from the camp, and as he was in the dreaming mood, he suffered his horse to proceed at a slow pace, and gave full vent to his fancy. From this trance he was aroused by a slight noise, and raising his eyes, he beheld (for a turn of the path brought him within view of it) the mansion of the Wilsons in flames. Putting spurs to his steed he soon arrived at the spot. Here all was desolation and ruin. The truth flashed upon him. It was the work of the Tories. But what had become of the inmates? Had they fallen victims, or had they been made captives? No one was visible to solve the question. But no time was to be lost, and after a hasty survey of the vicinity, he started in the direction of the camp to report the affair and procure assistance for the prisoners. On the return he fell in with one of the scouts, and making known the affair to him, it was determined to fall upon the trail of the party, if possible to watch them until they should encamp, and then the scout, by superior knowledge of the windings of the forest, must return to the camp and ensure the surprise and capture of the foe. Acting on this, and knowing that the captain was at this time on his way from the Santee with a body of recruits, Seaton chose the route most likely to fall in with him, to whom he would communicate the intelligence and obtain assistance. Giving his instructions to his companion to await him at the Crossings, he gave the reign to his horse and dashed into the wood. With the result of this meeting the reader is already acquainted in the conversation between the two at the commencement of the story. Buried in the gloom of the ravine, Harry Burton saw the prisoners pass, guarded by a strong band of the Tories. Marking their direction, he had in quiet awaited the coming of his comrade.