"A mighty good lesson it is for your stinking British pride," was the retort of the militia officer, as he accepted the sword. "I guess you 're the kind of man we've been looking for to make an example of. We'll teach you what murdering our generals and plundering our houses come to-- eh, men?" "Hooray fer Joe Bagby!" shouted one of the conquerors. "Some of you tie the prisoners, except him, two and two, and start them down the road at double quick," ordered Captain Bagby. "Collect all the guns and sabres and throw them on the sledges. Look alive there, for we've no time to lose. Well, squire, what do you want?" he demanded, as he turned and found the latter's hand on his sleeve. "I've to thank ye for arriving in the nick o' time to save me from being plundered," said Mr. Meredith, speaking as if he were taking a dose of medicine. "Now can't ye set to and save my outbuildings from taking fire?" "Harkee, squire, replied Joe, dropping his voice to a confidential pitch, while at the same time leading his interlocutor aside out of hearing. "The sledges and what they hold is our prize, captivated from the British in a fair fight, yet we'll get around that if you'll say the right word." "And what 's that?" queried the squire. "You know as well as I what 't is. The sledges are yours, and we'll do our prettiest to prevent the stables and cribs from catching, if you'll but say what I want said as to Miss Janice." "I'd see her in her grave first." "Some of you fellows start those sleighs and sledges up the road!" shouted Bagby. "Now then, have you got that officer ready?" "He ain't ready, but we is, cap," answered one of the little group about the prisoner. "Up with him, then!" ordered Bagby. "See-saw 's the word: down goes Mercer, up goes a bloody-back." At the command, half a dozen men pulled on a rope which had been passed over the bough of a tree, and the young subaltern was swung clear of the ground. He struggled so fiercely for a moment that the cords which bound his wrists parted and he was able to clutch the rope above his head in a desperate attempt to save himself. It was useless, for instantly two rifles were levelled and two bullets sent through him; his hands relaxing, he hung limply, save for a slight muscular quiver. "If your friends, the British, come back, you can tell them that 's only the beginning," Bagby told the squire. "And look out for yourself, or it 's what will come to you. Now then, fellows, fall in," he called. "The line of retreat is to Somerset Court-house, and you are to guard the prisoners and the provisions if you can, but scatter if attacked in force. March!" The motley company, without pretence of order, set off on their long, weary night tramp through the snow. Behind them the flame of the barn, now towering sixty feet in the air, made the whole scene bright with colour, save where the swinging body of the lad threw a shifting shadow across a stretch of untrampled snow. XXXVII BLUES AND REDS