Taking advantage of this want of prudence on the part of his enemies, the active mind of the scout suggested the bold expedient of pushing into the front of the party, and by secreting himself in the dense foliage that skirted both sides of the road, gather, if possible, from the lips of the Tories, some hints of their designs. Without waiting to calculate the danger of the undertaking, he again took to the forest, and putting his steed into a swifter pace, made a circuit of some distance to avoid the most remote possibility of being seen. Having again gained the road-side, he took a position more favorable for his purpose. He did not wait long ere the foremost of the band came in sight. When sufficiently near, Harry recognized him as one of the most active and unprincipled of the men who had long been a terror and dread to that vicinity. He had been an unsuccessful suitor for the hand of Emma Wilson; and this, joined to his unrelenting hatred of the Whigs, made the object of the recent attack apparent to the scout. He was attended by several others of the same character—some actuated by motives of personal malice, and others by the love of plunder. The leader appeared in earnest conversation with those who rode near him; and, as they neared the place where the scout was concealed, the words of some of them reached his ear. They were directed to the captain of the band, and were spoken as if in continuation of a question. “But what do you intend doing with the brother? He fought well, no matter what else he has done, and deserves a better fate than I fear you intend for him.” “He shall have the same fate as his father—death. The one fell by this hand, by the sword it is true; his son shall die by the rope. I’ll teach them to refuse me. One more, and then my vengeance is complete. That young lover of hers, Seaton!—but he cannot escape me; we have tracked the band that he belongs to, and in a few days he too will be mine. But how stands my modest beauty?” he asked of one of the gang who just rode up from the rear. “She shall have a merry ride to-night, and in the morning—” “She has fainted from fatigue, and cannot ride farther,” interrupted the other; “what must be done? As there is no danger from pursuit now, I think we had better halt for the night. The Cypress is nigh, and that will be the safest place between here and the Corners. Besides, the captain, as they call him, is in the south now. So no fear of him.” “I do not fear him,” answered the leader; and then after a pause of a few moments he resumed—“Well, give the command to encamp at the swamp. In the morning we will see what is to be done.”