“Thou shalt not repent it,” replied Spikeman.  “We are in some sort confederates, and our fates are so interwoven that thy fortunes depend on mine.”

With these prophetic words the Assistant left his coadjutor, and returning to the apartment of the lady, requested her to prepare herself and the Indian child to accompany him.  She made no reply, and, on his departure, sat some little time pondering what it became her to do; after which, she rose and prepared some articles of clothing.

Spikeman soon re-appeared, and directing one of his soldiers to carry the clothing, begged the lady to follow him.  This she did without objection, holding the girl by the hand, and appearing indifferent to all that happened.  She found Arundel and Joy, with a number of strange persons, in the largest room of the building, preparing for departure.  The countenances of the two men expressed the indignation which they felt, but they were obliged to content themselves with the offer of such services, as their situation permitted.  This the lady graciously acknowledged in a few words, but seemed more inclined to indulge in her own private thoughts than to encourage any conversation.  They all left the house together, and, when in the open air, were committed to the special guard of half a dozen of the party, who composed the centre; and, in this order, led by Spikeman, the cavalcade commenced their march.  They had proceeded at a slow pace, on account of the females, and in silence, broken only by an occasional question and answer, for perhaps half an hour, when one of the men observed that either the moon had risen or the morning was breaking.

“There is no moon, Cowlson,” said a soldier; “nor, according to my reckoning, can it be much past midnight.  The light ye see comes from the North; and, an’ it were winter, I should think it was the shooting of the Northern lights.”

“These be no Northern lights, nor Southern, nor moon, nor morning,” said another.  “An’ it be not a fire, my name is not Job Bloyce.”

“How can it be a fire?” said Ephraim Pike, who had contrived to join the band without his absence being noticed, after accomplishing his purpose.  “There is nothing in that direction but the house we just left, and sure it cannot be that.”

“I know not,” said Spikeman.  “It may be the work of the desperate man whom we failed to take, and who has done the deed, in order to throw disgrace in some sort on us.”

“That is a strange supposition,” said Lieutenant Venn.  “A man would hardly be likely to destroy his own property.”

“Not without some malicious design, I grant ye; but that were motive sufficient with Sir Christopher.  Besides, what is it he would burn up but a heap of old logs, whose whole value could scarcely exceed ten pounds?”

By this time the fire had gained such an ascendancy over the building, as to throw a light which could no longer be mistaken, and all were satisfied that it must proceed from the habitation of the Knight.  The majority of the men adopted, without reflection, the idea thrown out by the wily Assistant, but there were others who were unable to satisfy themselves as easily.