Harriet made no reply, but gazed intently into the forest. In the indistinct light the figures of mounted men could be seen moving like shadows among the trees. That they were gradually approaching the maidens was evident. The girl watched them for a few seconds, and then leaning forward gave a low, birdlike call. It was answered in kind on the instant, and a half dozen horsemen dashed from the wood into the narrow highway. “Now am I safe,” cried Harriet joyfully, reaching out her hand to the foremost of the men who gathered about them. “Captain Greyling, your arrival is timely.” “We have waited many nights for you, Mistress Owen,” said that officer. “We began to think that you might in very truth have become one of the rebels. You are most welcome.” “Thank you,” she cried gaily. “You are not more pleased to see me than I am to be here. In truth, had I not succeeded in coming, I should not have had another opportunity. ’Twas becoming very uncomfortable in camp. I have barely escaped I know not what fate. But more of that anon. Peggy, let me present Captain Greyling of De Lancy’s Loyal Legion. My cousin, Mistress Peggy Owen, Captain Greyling.” De Lancy’s Loyal Legion! Peggy’s cheek blanched at the name. This was a body of Tory cavalry, half freebooters and half in the regular service. Between New York and Philadelphia and the country surrounding both places the name stood for all that was terrible and malignant in human nature. So stricken with terror was she that she could not return the officer’s salutation. “Where lies the boat?” asked Harriet. “Close to the bank of the river. The trees hide it. ’Tis but a shallop which will take us to the sloop which is in the bay outside Amboy. The men will bring the horses by ferry.” “Very well,” answered Harriet, preparing to dismount. “We are at the end of our long ride, Peggy. Are you not glad?” “I am for thee,” said Peggy, speaking quietly but filled with a vague alarm. “As for me, I will bid thee farewell, and return to the camp.” She wheeled as she spoke, but instantly the mare’s bridle was seized, and she was brought to a standstill. “What is the meaning of this?” cried Peggy, her eyes flashing. “Thee is safe, Harriet. Call off thy friends. Thee knows that I must return.” “Dost think that I will part with you so soon, my cousin?” laughed Harriet mockingly. “Nay, nay; I have promised to bring you to New York. Best go peaceably, Peggy; for go you must.” “Never!” exclaimed Peggy, striking Star a sharp blow. The little mare reared, plunged, pranced and wheeled in the effort to rid herself of the hold on her bridle, but vainly. Peggy uttered a piercing shriek as she was torn from the saddle, and half dragged, half carried through the trees down the bank to the boat which was drawn up close to the shore. Two of the men followed after the captain and Harriet. The latter seated herself by Peggy’s side, and placed her arm about her.