The master, less a child of the woods than Andy, in his excitement had tried to creep closer, and the quick ear of the sentinel had noticed the sound.

“It is this accursed spot again!” muttered Norton; “twice lately I could have sworn I heard breathing among the bushes.  I’ve beaten every inch of ground, and not a living creature have I found.  I’m not squirmish, and a rebel now and then don’t count, but—­well, you know I brought that parson’s cub down a bit further back.  Lord! how the fellow strutted, and when I called to him he started like a stuck pig.  I cannot forget the look on his face as—­as I fired.

“I’m agreeing with you, Martin, clean fighting or nothing.  I’m not up to this slaughtering of infants myself.  I half expect to see that baby playing in the moonlight every time a leaf rustles at night.”  The man laughed uneasily.  “Once I fancied I saw a face—­a pale boy-face—­shining in the bushes.  Lord, it gave me a turn!”

“Could there be a secret passage?” asked Martin in a low voice.  “A fellow named Godkin told me an hour ago that he had his eye on a lame chap and a gawk of a schoolmaster who were always skulking around close to the ground.  He says the boy lives hereabouts and knows the woods like a snake.”

“No fool rebel could keep such a secret from me.  Godkin likes to talk and swagger.  He feels his oats.  Come, just to pass the time, let’s beat the bushes.”

“Back out!” breathed Andy.  There was no time to be lost.  But the backward movement was most painfully slow.  The men tramping in the bushes, feeling the thing but child-play, laughed and talked loudly.

“How many men has the old fox!” asked Martin, giving a cut to the bushes with his gun.

“Twelve thousand, though he gives out many more.”

“He’s got grit,” rejoined Martin, “with my lord gripping his throat at close quarters with double that number at his heels, to stand still and calm as—­as this rock!  Gad, I nearly broke my gun!  This land produces more rocks than anything else.  I heard Washington is planning to get on Long Island again.”

“He’ll never get there.  My Lord Howe—­what in thunder!” Norton had slipped and fallen, and as he lay so, his face was on a level with the opening in the rocks!

“Come here!” he gasped.  “Got a light!  There’s a hole here.”

Martin struck a light and peered in.  As he did so Andy’s white, horrified face gleamed forth from the shadow.  Without a word the head was withdrawn, and both Andy and the master knew that the man, or both men, would follow at once.

“They are big!” moaned Andy, “and they do not know the way as we do.  Oh, hurry!”

The master feared that the sentinel would fire into the cave, but as the moment passed, and he did not, he took heart, and crept backward as fast as he could.  Then came the sure sound of the chase.  One or both had entered the passage!  They had this advantage; they could come straight on, while the pursued were going backward, the master, being the bulkier and more uncertain, barring Andy’s smaller body.