The two gentlemen now moved on, intending to pass in front of the cabins which lined this part of the valley, by a lane which would bring them out at the general highway which led from the Knoll to the mill.  The captain marched in front, while his son brought up the rear, at a distance of two or three paces.  Each walked slowly and with caution, carrying his rifle in the hollow of his arm, in perfect readiness for service.  In this manner both had proceeded a few yards, when Robert Willoughby felt his elbow touched, and saw Joel’s face, within eighteen inches of his own, as the fellow peered under his hat.  It was an action so sudden and unexpected, that the major saw, at once, nothing but perfect coolness could avert his discovery.

“Is’t you, Dan’el”—­so was the miller named.  “What in natur’ has brought the old man on this tramp, with the valley filled with Injins?” whispered Joel, prolonging the speech in order to get a better view of a face and form that still baffled his conjectures.  “Let’s know all about it.”

“You’ll get me into trouble,” answered he major, shaking off his unwelcome neighbour, moving a step further from him, and speaking also in a whisper.  “The captain’s bent on a scout, and you know he’ll not bear contradiction.  Off with you, then, and don’t forget the milk.”

As the major moved away, and seemed determined to baffle him, Joel had no choice between complying and exposing his disobedience of orders to the captain.  He disliked doing the last, for his cue was to seem respectful and attached, and he was fain to submit.  Never before, however, did Joel Strides suffer a man to slip through his fingers with so much reluctance.  He saw that the captain’s companion was not the miller, while the disguise was too complete to enable him to distinguish the person or face.  In that day, the different classes of society were strongly distinguished from each other, by their ordinary attire; and, accustomed to see major Willoughby only in the dress that belonged to his station, he would not be likely to recognise him in his present guise, had he even known of or suspected his visit.  As it was, he was completely at fault; satisfied it was not his friend Daniel, while unable to say who it was.

In this doubting state of mind, Joel actually forgot the savages, and the risks he might run from their proximity.  He walked, as it might be mechanically, to the place where he had left the pail, and then proceeded slowly towards the Knoll, pondering at every step on what he had just seen.  He and the miller had secret communications with certain active agents of the revolutionists, that put them in possession of facts, notwithstanding their isolated position, with which even their employer was totally unacquainted.  It is true, these agents were of that low caste that never fail to attach themselves to all great political enterprises, with a sole view to their own benefit; still, as they were active, cunning and bold, and had the sagacity to make themselves useful, they passed in the throng of patriots created by the times, and were enabled to impart to men of similar spirits much available information.