“It is only a question of a long tramp,” my comrade said when we two were alone, as if he like myself had some forebodings as to the future. “There isn’t one chance in an hundred that he will meet with any Tories in the night, if he follows the course by which we came, an’ we have no reason to feel anxious concerning him.” “Then let’s drop the subject,” I said a trifle irritably, for the suspicion that Sam was thinking of possible evil in Abraham’s path made me exceeding nervous. “We have nothin’ to do betwixt now an’ mornin’, save sleep, an’ I’m thinking we’d best get about the job.” There was little need for us to make any preparations for the night. A bed out of doors while the weather was so hot would afford more of comfort than one in a house, and we made ready for slumber by simply searching for a smooth, level place whereon we could stretch our limbs at full length. It was while we were thus engaged that I fancied it possible to hear the hoof-beats of a horse on the highway, which at this point passed within less than an hundred yards of the shore, and, motioning Sam to remain silent, we stood listening two or three moments without hearing anything, when I came to believe that my ears had deceived me. “What was it?” Sam asked anxiously. “Nothin’, else we would have heard somethin’ more by this time,” and I told him of what I fancied came to my ears. “You may set it down as a fact that there is no one stirrin’ nearabout here unless he have business with the British fleet, an’ that could best be attended to in the daylight,” Sam replied carelessly, as he laid himself down to sleep. The spot which we had selected was just within a sparse clump of fir bushes, which would serve to break the wind and screen us from view of all save a careful scrutiny. As a matter of course it was open on the water side, affording an unobstructed view of Long Island, and when we were stretched out at full length upon the ground, it was possible to see the riding lights of the vessels, the camp-fires, and the numberless lanterns which marked the location of the temporary shipyard, telling us plainly that the work of preparing the scows was being pushed forward with all possible speed, since men were laboring by night as well as by day. Neither Sam nor I were inclined for conversation, nor did slumber visit our eyelids, and when we had laid there motionless for ten minutes or more, I heard what was like stealthy footsteps near at hand. That the same sound had come to Sam’s ears I knew when, without changing position, he clutched my arm to attract attention, and as if with one accord we two rose to a sitting posture.