"All's well!" came from a far-off sentry; and the man and boy breathed quicker. A moment of rest at the opening of the cave-like path where Andy and the master had first met, then into the narrow gloom toward the danger line. "The way is narrow," whispered Andy, "but it leads out just behind the British tents." "Ah! for Vulcan's hammer!" laughed the master softly; "I'd hew me a broader path, Andy. The width of me suffers sorely for the cause." Andy smiled in the darkness. The mirth in the master's voice gave courage. "It is broader further on," encouraged the guide. "God be praised for that!" groaned the man as he came in contact again with the rocks. The crutch had been left at the entrance, well hidden. Hands and knees were all that were needed on that journey. Once a slimy creature crawled across the master's hand, and he uttered an exclamation. "Don't do that again!" breathed Andy, in alarm. The minutes seemed endless, and the progress very slow. The darkness was so intense that it was something of a shock to the master when he suddenly became aware that he could see the outline of his guide's body. There was a small opening ahead, and a gleam of moonlight shot in! Neither spoke. If the British sentry was beyond there was every need of stillness now. "I hear steps!" said Andy in a breath; "listen!" The duller ear of the master heard no sound for a moment, then slowly and alarmingly near, he _did_ catch the sound of the measured tread of a soldier, and, from the opposite direction evidently, a second man. Near the opening the two met. "Fine night, Martin; everything quiet?" "Quiet? Lord, yes! If something does not happen soon, I swear I'll cut and run. It wouldn't take a great deal to make me quit. The pluck of the rebels rather tickles me. I've half a mind to toss my luck among them, and stand or fall with the colonies." "Better change your mind," laughed the other; "something's going to happen and that pretty quick." "Is that hearsay, Norton, or authentic? I've just come into camp. I've been having a picnic over on Long Island--raiding farms and doing a lot of dirty work that sickens me. Clean fighting is what I set out to do, and gad! this kind of thing turns a fellow's stomach. We've been fed on the talk that these rebels are cowards. Cowards, bah! And as for that big, silent general of theirs, he--he rather appeals to me!" "Don't be white-livered, Martin!" sneered Norton. "You may get some cold steel from your own countrymen for uttering such sentiments. My information is all right, it comes from his lordship himself. Washington is too dangerous to leave longer alone; should he find out--what was that?" The master, less a child of the woods than Andy, in his excitement had tried to creep closer, and the quick ear of the sentinel had noticed the sound.