"My son was fortunate to meet you. God bless you all." The two young people simply thanked Oliver by looks. It was eleven o'clock at night when they started, without being noticed. We already know how they met the outlaw. CHAPTER XIII. TOM MITCHELL. The sun had long since gone down, the night was dark and cloudy, not a star shone in the sky. George Clinton, seated on a bench before his door, awaited the return of Keen-hand and his two dogs, who had accompanied the three travellers a short distance; the two serving men had gone to bed. George Clinton, half an hour before, had satisfied himself that his wounded guest slept soundly. His eyes fixed on vacancy, the young man was dreaming, giving way to soft and melancholy reverie; his soul, borne on the wings of fancy, was far away; it was wandering in the realms of space after the beloved, after the idolised young girl, for whom he had sacrificed and abandoned everything, and the mention of whose name made him quiver with delight. Suddenly he was awakened from his Elysian dream by an almost superhuman cry of anguish. The young man started as if he had received an electric shock; he turned pale, clutched the barrel of his rifle, and then listened, trying in vain to pierce the intense darkness which wrapped all nature as in a winding sheet. Some minutes passed, during which there was not a breath in the air, not the slightest sound. George Clinton breathed more freely, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Heaven be praised," he said, "I was mistaken." Scarcely had he uttered these words, which he hardly believed, when the same frightful cry was repeated. "It is a terrible warning," he cried; "some fearful crime is being accomplished. I cannot hesitate." And, without another thought, he darted off in the direction whence came the lugubrious sound. Almost ere George had quite disappeared in the darkness a shrill whistle, modulated in a certain way, was twice repeated; then a heavy black mass appeared crawling on the earth; this dark mass stopped at short intervals, and then again advanced. This strange phenomenon was soon followed by a second, a third, another, in all ten. In a few minutes all were round the hut. Then a second whistle was heard, a signal of course, as they all rose and revealed ten armed men. They were ferocious-looking beings, with sinister features--true bandits of the prairies. "We are the masters," said one; "the serving men sleep, the master is away, let us waste no time." "Do you know where he is?" asked a second. "I pretty well guess. The place is familiar to me. But let us be careful. I don't want to be caught." "Be satisfied; Versenca and Jonathan never left their post, and Paddy is on the watch. All is safe." "I am not more timid than another, but I like to be sure." "We are losing time, and should act." "Quite so, Sleepy; but I want to know why the captain, who must have heard our signal, is still quiet?" "But you know the captain is wounded."