“I am going in closer to discover what I can,” I said quietly.  “I may be gone for half an hour.  Advance your men carefully into the shadow of that cabin there, and wait orders.  Don’t let them straggle, for I want to know where they are.”  I bent lower and whispered in his ear, “Don’t let that negro out of your sight; but no shooting—­rap him with a butt if necessary.  You understand?”

“Sure; I’ll keep a grip on his leg.”

I paused an instant thinking.

“If luck helps me to get inside, and I find the way clear, I’ll draw that shade up and down twice—­this way—­and you can come on.  Move quickly, but without noise, and wait outside for orders, unless you are certain I am in trouble.”

“Yes, sir; we’ll be there.”

“Have one man watch that light all the time; don’t let him take his eyes off it.  Be careful no prowling trooper stumbles on you; keep the men still.”

I saw the dim movement as he saluted and felt no doubt of obedience,—­he was too old and tried a soldier to fail.  I crept forward, scouted about the cabin to make sure it was unoccupied, and then advanced into the shadows of the orchard.  I was all nerves now, all alertness, every instinct awake, seeing the slightest movement, hearing the faintest noise.  There were voices—­just a mumble—­in the direction of the stable, and, as I drew in closer toward the house I could distinguish sounds as though a considerable party were at table—­yet even the tinkle of knife and plate was muffled; probably the dining-room was on the opposite side.  However, this would seem to indicate the presence of the one we sought, although so late a supper would render our task more difficult of execution.  I was tempted to try the other side first, but the open window with the light burning inside was nearer, and I wished first to assure myself as to that.  I could see no sentries, but the embers of a fire were visible on the front driveway.  Whatever guard might be about the steps, none patrolled this side; I must have waited several minutes, lying concealed in the dense shrubbery, peering and listening, before becoming fully convinced.  The omission brought a vague suspicion that Johnston might not be present after all—­that this was instead a mere party of convivial officers.  If so, the sooner I could convince myself the better, to make good our safe return.  The thought urged me forward.

A small clump of low bushes—­gooseberries, I judged from the thorns—­was within a few yards of the house, the balance of the distance a closely trimmed turf.  The bottom of the window through which the light shone was even with my eyes when standing erect, but I could perceive no movement of any occupants, a small wooden balcony, more for ornament than for practical use, shutting off the view.  I grasped the rail of this with my hands and drew my body slowly up, endeavoring to keep to one side out of the direct range of light.  This effort yielded but a glimpse