“Now, come down to this bush where I was lying.  We will wait there till daylight breaks.  It is as far down as I dare go by this light, but, when we can see, we will find a safer place further down.”

Cautiously they made their way down to a clump of bushes, twenty feet below the edge, and there, lying down, dozed until it became light enough to see the ground.  The slope was very steep, but bushes grew here and there upon it, and by means of these, and projecting rocks, they worked their way down some thirty feet lower, and then sat down among some bushes, which screened them from the sight of anyone who might be passing along the edge of the river, while the steep slope effectually hid them from anyone moving along above.

“Is there any signature to that letter,” James asked presently.

The midshipman took the piece of paper out and looked at it.

“No, there is no signature,” he said; “but I know the handwriting.  I have seen it in orders, over and over again.”

James was silent a few minutes.

“I won’t ask you who it is, though I fear I know too well.  Look here, Middleton, I should like you to tear that letter up, and say no more about it.”

“No, sir,” the boy said, putting the paper in his pocket.  “I can’t do that.  Of course I am under your orders, for this expedition; but this is not an affair in which I consider that I am bound to obey you.  This concerns the honour of the officers of my ship, and I should not be doing my duty if I did not, upon my return, place this letter in the hands of the captain.  A man who would betray the general’s plans to the enemy, would betray the ship, and I should be a traitor, myself, if I did not inform the captain.  I am sorry, awfully sorry, that this should happen to an officer of the Sutherland, but it will be for the captain to decide whether he will make it public or not.

“There is one thing.  If it was to be anyone, I would rather that it was he than anyone else, for there isn’t a man on board can abide him.  No, sir, I am sorry, but I cannot give up the letter, and, even if you had torn it up when you had it in your hand just now, I should have reported the whole thing to the captain, and say I could swear to the handwriting.”

James was silent.  The boy was right, and was only doing his duty in determining to denounce the act of gross treachery which had been perpetrated.  He was deeply grieved, however, to think of the consequences of the discovery, and especially of the blow that it would be, to the squire, to hear that his nephew was a traitor, and indeed a murderer at heart, for, had not his flight taken place before the discovery was made, he would certainly have been executed as a spy.

The day passed quietly.  That the Indians were searching for him, far and wide, James Walsham had no doubt, and indeed, from their hiding place he saw several parties of redskins moving along on the river bank, carefully examining the ground.