But keen eyes spied a boat moored in the bushes, and two soldiers were quickly in it and paddling after the fugitive. They were gaining rapidly, as Nathan saw by turning his head. Clinging to the horse's mane with one hand he snapped the pistol that he still held in the other. It was wet, and would not go off. He snatched the second from the unsubmerged saddle-bag, aimed and fired. With the report, the soldier who was paddling tossed up his arms and fell back with a hoarse cry. His comrade rose to his feet in the swaying boat, now but six yards away, and leveled his musket with a terrible oath. Flash! bang! the gallant horse quivered, whinnied with pain, and swung helplessly around with the current. Nathan's hand let go the bridle, and the black waters closed over the lad's head. CHAPTER III IN WHICH NATHAN BECOMES A SOLDIER Nathan's sudden disappearance indicated that the bullet had struck him also, but such was not the case. He knew the horse was shot the instant the report rang out, and his object in bobbing under was twofold; to escape the animal's struggles and to deceive the soldier. Letting himself sink a few feet, he dived still deeper, and then swam beneath the surface toward shore. In spite of his clothes he covered a good distance, and when lack of breath forced him to the top he was within ten yards of the bank. The watchful and suspecting dragoon spied the lad at once, and announced his discovery to the rest of the party by a shout, as he picked up the paddle and drove the boat nearer. On coming within the same range as before he snatched the musket from his dead or dying comrade, and again drew a bead on his intended victim. Just at this point, when he was nearly to the shore, Nathan looked back and saw his danger. He was all but exhausted, and he knew that he had not a ghost of a chance to escape. He was too weak even to dive, and for a terrible second or two, while his enemy made sure of his aim, he expected instant death as he struggled feebly on. But an undreamed of deliverance was at hand. From the near-by edge of the bank, in front of the lad, came a flash and a report. He glanced in bewilderment over his shoulder in time to see the murderous dragoon drop his unfired weapon and pitch head first into the water. The body sank at once, and the boat drifted on in pursuit of the dead horse. Nathan swam to shore, scarcely able to credit his good fortune, and no sooner had he planted his trembling feet on the bank than a stalwart figure rose before him out of the gloom--a Hessian with bristling mustache, a blue and yellow uniform, and a brass plate on his tall, black cap. He uttered a few angry words in German as he stared at the lad. "You saved my life," said Nathan, who was quick to see how the land lay, "and I thank you for it." "Och, I mean not to," the Hessian replied, in broken English. "I think you vas a comrade whom I watch for. You are American, eh? And you escape from the British?"