But the new-made tory colonel, who was more a coward from conscience than nature, in the present instance, perhaps, did not see fit to accept the challenge for a further personal combat. And Woodburn, judging that any attempt to pursue him in the woods would be useless, reluctantly gave up the chase, and turned to go back to his horse; when Bart, running up and peering an instant at the dying horse and then at his friend, rushed by the latter, and, throwing himself on the neck of his loved pony, fell to hugging and fondling her in an ecstasy of delight. “O Lightfoot! Lightfoot!” he exclaimed; “lucky divil that you are, not now to be sprawling and kicking, like your tory brother there in the bushes! Yes, that you are, Lightfoot; and you shall have an oat-supper to-night that would make a horse, laugh, for catching up with the rapscallion.” “Bart!” said Woodburn, in surprise; “how did you get wind of this? But no matter. You have come too late.” “Know it--couldn't help it, though--had other fish to fry first, that musn't cool. Captain Rose and sixteen other tory prisoners are on the road here, just below.” “Prisoners! how? By whom taken?” “O, Captain Barney, and Bart, and I, and Mr Stratagem and one or two others.” “What, only three or four of you to seventeen?” “No; I was a flanking party of ten in the bushes, and sergeant of 'em--cocked all their guns for 'em, by cocking and uncocking my own--talked for 'em all, out of seven corners of my mouth at once, and kept 'em from firing till the word, you know. We heard your firing, and called you the front-guard; and--and we took 'em--every dog of 'em.” “Bravoes! and no fool of an exploit on your part neither, Bart, if all this is so. But are the prisoners secured? Had we not better hasten to join the escort?” “No, two or three more came up just as I left, and there's enough now to manage in that quarter; but the advance-guard here must be kept up till we get 'em out to the groat road, lest the sneaks slink away-into the woods as they pass along the road and slip through our fingers as your smart trooper did just now. Let's see--about eight strong we will have this guard, I guess. I will be rank and file, and you shall be the officer. Come, mount! They'll be poking their heads along in sight in a moment. Ay, there they come! Advance-guard!” he now added, in a loud, commanding tone, as the slow tread of the prisoners, advancing along the devious and closely-embowered path, became audible--“advance-guard! Attention the whole! Prepare to march!--march!”