They had at once recovered their courage in the presence of their mother. She seemed to them, as she braved the intruders, the grandest person they had ever seen. Her face was white, but her eyes were like coals of fire. They were very glad she had never looked or talked so to them. When they got outdoors the yard was full of soldiers. They were upon the porches, in the entry, and in the house. The smoke-house was open and so were the doors of all the other outhouses, and now and then a man passed, carrying some article which the boys recognized. In a little while the soldiers had taken everything they could carry conveniently, and even things which must have caused them some inconvenience. They had secured all the bacon that had been left in the smoke-house, as well as all other eatables they could find. It was a queer sight, to see the fellows sitting on their horses with a ham or a pair of fowls tied to one side of the saddle and an engraving or a package of books, or some ornament, to the other. A new party of men had by this time come up from the direction of the stables. "Old man, come here!" called some of them to Balla, who was standing near expostulating with the men who were about the fire. "Who?--me?" asked Balla. "B'ain't you the carriage driver?" "Ain't I the keridge driver?" "Yes, _you_; we know you are, so you need not be lying about it." "Hi! yes; I the keridge driver. Who say I ain't?" "Well, where have you hid those horses? Come, we want to know, quick," said the fellow roughly, taking out his pistol in a threatening way. The old man's eyes grew wide. "Hi! befo' de Lord! Marster, how I know anything of the horses ef they ain't in the stable,--there's where we keep horses!" "Here, you come with us. We won't have no foolin' 'bout this," said his questioner, seizing him by the shoulder and jerking him angrily around. "If you don't show us pretty quick where those horses are, we'll put a bullet or two into you. March off there!" He was backed by a half-a-dozen more, but the pistol, which was at old Balla's head, was his most efficient ally. "Hi! Marster, don't pint dat thing at me that way. I ain't ready to die yit--an' I ain' like dem things, no-ways," protested Balla. There is no telling how much further his courage could have withstood their threats, for the boys' mother made her appearance. She was about to bid Balla show where the horses were, when a party rode into the yard leading them. "Hi! there are Bill and John, now," exclaimed the boys, recognizing the black carriage-horses which were being led along. "Well, ef dee ain't got 'em, sho' 'nough!" exclaimed the old driver, forgetting his fear of the cocked pistols. "Gentlemen, marsters, don't teck my horses, ef you _please_," he pleaded, pushing through the group that surrounded him, and approaching the man who led the horses. They only laughed at him. [Illustration: "GENTLEMEN, MARSTERS, DON'T TECK MY HORSES, EF YOU PLEASE," SAID UNCLE BALLA.]