“I have seen nothing dreadful, and I can’t say that I understand very much of what we heard.”

“There is some ‘caper’ going on to give these cut-throats a chance to get booty or something of the sort.”

“They are probably rebel soldiers planning to sack the commissary.”

They were in the boat now, and Jack was sending it forward by lusty lunges against every protruding object he could get a stroke at; when these failed he managed to scull after a fashion.  They found the household in consternation when they got back, but Jack gave a picturesque narrative of their escapade, omitting the encounter with the negroes which he had charged Kate to say nothing about, as it would only alarm Mrs. Atterbury.  The garments of the explorers told the tale of their mishaps, and when they had clothed themselves anew supper was announced.  The feast was of the lightest sort:  sherbet or tea for those who liked it; fruit and crackers, honey or marmalade—­a triumph in the cultivation of dyspepsia, Jack said when he first began the eating.  But it was observed that the disease had no terrors for him, for he sat at the table as long as he could get any one to remain with him, and did his share in testing all the dishes.  He outsat everybody that night except Dick, who never got tired of any place that brought him near his idol.

“I’m going up-stairs in a moment, Towhead.  Come up after me.”

Dick nodded, a gleam of delightful expectation in his eyes.  He was just in the ardent period when boys love to make mysteries of very ordinary things, and Jack’s sotto voce command was like the hero’s voice in the play, “Meet me by the ruined well when midnight strikes.”  He followed Jack up the wide staircase and into his own room, for greater security, as no one would think of looking for them there.

“Now, tell me all you have found out,” Jack commanded as he shut the door.  “Have you been among the darkys?”

“I’ve found out this much.  The old negroes are opposed to going away or in any shape annoying their masters.  The young bucks and the women are very eager to fly.  It seems that some one has spread the story among them that Lincoln has sent Butler to Fort Monroe to receive all the negroes on the Peninsula.  They have been assured that they are to have ‘their freedom, one hundred acres of land, and an ox-team.’  Where the report comes from, I can’t find out; but there is some communication between here and the Union lines, I’m positive.”

“Has Wesley been with the negroes again?”

“No.  I have kept an eye on him all day.”

“Where does he go at night?”

“The doctor has forbidden him to be in the night air for the present.”

“Well, you keep an eye on Wesley,” and then Jack narrated the strange scene in the swamp, the mysterious calls, and the conversation.

Dick listened in awe, mingled with rapture.  “Oh, why wasn’t I there?  Just my blamed luck!  I would have followed them, and then we should have known what they were up to.  Did you know that a company of cavalry had gone into camp just below the grove?”