In a few minutes I made up my mind. It was not a way out of the matter, but it was the only thing I could think of for the present. “Get up, Albert,” I said. He rose obediently. “You came out of that house unseen,” I resumed, “and I want you to go back into it unseen. Do exactly as I say. I’m thinking of you as well as of myself.” He seemed to appreciate the consideration and followed close behind me as I took my way toward the house. I had no fear that he would attempt escape. Albert was always a fellow of honor, though I could never account for the perversion of his political opinions. He walked back slowly. I kept as good a lookout as I could in the darkness. It was barely possible that I would meet Whitestone prowling about, and that was not what I wanted. “Albert,” I asked, “why did you shoot at Whitestone from the house? I can forgive your shooting at me, for that was in fair and open strife.” “Dick,” he said so earnestly that I could not but believe him, “to tell you the truth, I feel some remorse about the shot, but the man you were pursuing was Trevannion of ours, my messmate, and such a fine fellow that I knew only one other whom I’d rather see get through with the news of our plight, and that’s myself. I couldn’t resist trying to help him. Suppose we say no more about it; let it pass.” “It’s Whitestone’s affair, not mine,” I said. I was not making any plans to tell Whitestone about it. When we came to the edge of the wood behind the house I told him to stop. Going forward, I sent the sentinel to the other side of the building, telling him to watch there with his comrade for a little, while I took his place. As soon as his figure disappeared behind the corner of the house Albert came forward and we hurried to the side door. We knocked lightly upon it and it was promptly opened by his sister. I could guess the anxiety and dread with which she was waiting lest she should hear sounds which would tell of an interrupted flight, and the distress with which she would see us again. Nor was I deceived. When she beheld us standing there in the dark, her lips moved as if she could scarce repress the cry that rose. I spoke first. “Take him back in the house,” I said, “and keep him there until you hear from me. Hurry up, Albert!” Albert stepped in. “And don’t forget this,” I continued, for I could not wholly forgive him, “if you shoot at me or Whitestone or anybody else, I’ll see you hanged as a spy, if I have to do it myself.” They quickly closed the door, and recalling the sentinel, I went in search of Whitestone. I had some notion of confiding in Whitestone, but, after thought, I concluded I had best not, at least not fully. I found him walking up and down in the valley. “Whitestone,” I said, “do me a favor? if anybody asks you how you got that scratch on your arm, tell him it was in the skirmish, and you don’t know who fired the shot.” He considered a moment.