Ephraim stiffened into attention again. There was nothing extraordinary about the sound. It was night, or rather very early morning, the time when the whip-poor-wills took their exercise and screamed out their loud, clear notes; but there was something else. In the old days at Staunton, which the startling events of the last four and twenty hours had crowded so far into the background that they seemed removed by a distance of years from the present, it had been Luce’s custom to come whip-poor-willing down the little back street where Ephraim lived, to give his friend timely notice of his approach. Therefore the sound had a greater significance for the Grizzly. ‘Hear thet bird!’ he said to himself. ‘It’s jest what Luce use ter do. My! I wonder will I ever git back to the old home again.’ ‘Whippo-wil! whippo-wil! whippo-wil! Tap, tap, tap!’ Now a whip-poor-will may sing its song at night, but it does not usually perch upon a window-sill and lightly tap to attract attention, and this was borne home to Ephraim when for the third time the cry was repeated, followed by the mysterious rapping. Ephraim’s heart gave a great leap. ‘It can’t be!’ he said, in the silence of his brain. ‘It can’t be! I reckon I must find out, though.’ He crept noiselessly round the cabin and peered beyond the angle of the wall in the direction of the window. The space at the back of the hut was darker than that at the front, for the nearness of the woods threw an additional gloom; but Ephraim, staring into the dark, could just make out a figure standing at a little distance from the window with outstretched arm, which rose and fell rhythmically, and at every movement came the light tap, tap of a switch upon the sill. ‘Whippo-wil! whippo’—— ‘Luce!’ ‘Grizzly!’ There was a rush through the darkness, the shock of a violent meeting, and panting, trembling, almost sobbing with joy, the two friends clung to one another in a fervent embrace. ‘Luce!’ whispered the Grizzly, the words falling in broken syllables from his lips. ‘What ye doin’ hyar? I thought ye would be safe and fur away.’ ‘I didn’t know what had become of you,’ whispered Lucius back; ‘but I imagined that if you had got away you would make for the cabin. It seemed the most likely place. Oh, I’m so glad! I’m so glad!’ ‘I’m glad too; but I’m sorry ez well, fer I thought ye would be well within our lines. Ugh! Ah!’ ‘What is the matter?’ asked Lucius in alarm, as at another friendly hug Ephraim uttered a low cry of pain. ‘It’s nuthin’, bub. On’y I got it in the shoulder, and ye gripped me thar. Come into the cabin. We’ll be safer thet way.’ ‘What! Are you wounded?’ inquired Lucius anxiously, as he followed Ephraim in through the window. ‘Jest a scrape on the shoulder. Never mind it. Tell me what happened after ye left me. I reckon ye ran back the way ye had come. I heard ye shoutin’.’