“Oh!  Bob, I hope it is not my father!  He is too old—­it is risking too much to let him quit the house.”

“I will tell you better when he reaches the ground.  Unless mistaken—­ ay—­it is the Irishman, O’Hearn.”

“Honest Mike!  He is always foremost in everything, though he so little knows how anything but digging ought to be done.  Is there not another following him—­or am I deceived?”

“There is—­he has just reached the ground, too.  This might be spared, did they know how well you are guarded, Maud.  By one who would die cheerfully to prevent harm from reaching you!”

“They little dream of that, Bob,” answered Maud, in a low tone.  “Not a human being in that valley fancies you nearer to him than the royal armies are, at this moment.  But they do not send a third—­I am glad they weaken their own force no further.”

“It is certainly best they should not.  The men had their rifles slung when they descended, and they are now getting them ready for service.  It is Joel Strides who is with Mike.”

“I am sorry for it. That is a man I little like, Bob, and I should be sorry he knew of your being here.”

This was said quickly, and with a degree of feeling that surprised the major, who questioned Maud earnestly as to her meaning and its reasons.  The latter told him she scarce knew herself; that she disliked the man’s manner, had long thought his principles bad, and that Mike in his extraordinary way had said certain things to her, to awaken distrust.

“Mike speaks in hieroglyphics,” said the major, laughing, in spite of the serious situation in which he and his companion were placed, “and one must never be too sure of his meaning.  Joel has now been many years with my father, and he seems to enjoy his confidence.”

“He makes himself useful, and is very guarded in what he says at the Hut.  Still—­I wish him not to know of your being here.”

“It will not be easy to prevent it, Maud.  I should have come boldly into the valley, but for this accidental meeting with you, trusting that my father has no one about him so base as to betray his son.”

“Trust not Joel Strides.  I’ll answer for Mike with my life; but sorry indeed should I be that Joel Strides knew of your being among us.  It were better, perhaps, that most of the workmen should not be in the secret.  See—­the two men are quitting the foot of the rocks.”

This was true, and Robert Willoughby watched their movements with the glass.  As had been expected, they first descended into the bed of the rivulet, wading along its shore, under the cover of the bushes, until they soon became concealed even from the view of one placed on a height as elevated as that occupied by Robert and Maud.  It was sufficiently apparent, however, that their intention was to reach the forest in this manner, when they would probably commence their search for the missing young lady.  Nor