"Follow me--it's the best way out," he said to the escaped prisoner. Then he dropped down, holding his pistols over his head, that they might not get wet. The wounded man was in a desperate humor and lost no time in following. By this time the rebels were hammering lustily on the door which Ben was holding shut. "What are we to do?" demanded the older of the deserters. "Are you--" "You can take care of yourselves," answered the young captain, and rushing over to the trap-door he let himself through, closing the trap after him. Then came a plunge into the water, but the stream here was less than four feet deep, and he followed Major Morris and the wounded man to the bank without difficulty. A loud shouting came from overhead, followed by a storm of words from both rebels and deserters, and also from the Spanish woman. Fortunately for the woman, among the rebels was a nephew, who at once came to her aid, and had the two deserters from the American army made prisoners. "We had better put a little distance between ourselves and that mill," suggested Major Morris, as all three shook the water from their lower garments. "How is it? are you badly wounded?" asked Ben, turning to their newly made companion. "Oh, I can go ahead," said the soldier. "It's rather painful, though." "We'll take care of it for you at the first chance we get," added Ben; and then the three set off at a brisk pace along the stream and over the rocks to a grove in which they felt they would be comparatively safe until daylight, if no longer. As the mill-house was left behind, all became quiet, and in the grove nothing disturbed them but the hum of the insects and the occasional cry of some night bird. Lighting a match, Ben examined the man's wound and bound it up with the major's handkerchief, his own having been left behind with the Spanish woman. The stranger said that his name was Barton Brownell. "I have been a prisoner of the insurgents for some time," he said, when asked to tell his story. "I was captured just before our troops took Malolos. They had six prisoners all told, and they took us to a place called Guinalo, which is probably forty miles from here, and up in the mountains." "While you were a prisoner did you see or hear anything of a Lieutenant Caspard?" asked Major Morris, quickly. "To be sure I did!" burst out Barton Brownell. "He came to see me several times. He has joined hands with the insurgents, and he wanted me to join them, too. But I told him I would rot first," added the wounded man, and his firmness showed that he meant what he said. "And was Caspard in the field with the rebels?"