Then came a straining and splitting of wood, and with a crash the door gave way.A lantern's rays shot through the hall.
``The house is as dark as a tomb,'' said a voice.
``And as empty, I reckon,'' said another.``John Temple and his spy have got away.''
``We'll have a search,'' answered the first voice.
They stood for a moment in the drawing-room door, peering, and then they entered.There were five of them.
Two looked to be gentlemen, and three were of rougher appearance.They carried lanterns.
``That window's open,'' said one of the gentlemen.
``They must have been here to-day.Hello, what's this?''
He started back in surprise.
I slid down from the window-seat, and stood facing them, not knowing what else to do.They, too, seemed equally confounded.
``It must be Temple's son,'' said one, at last.``I had thought the family at Temple Bow.What's your name, my lad?''
``David Trimble, sir,'' said I.
``And what are you doing here?'' he asked more sternly.
``I was left in Mr.Temple's care by my father.''
``Oho!'' he cried.``And where is your father?''
``He's gone to fight the Cherokees,'' I answered soberly.
``To skin a man named Cameron.''
At that they were silent for an instant, and then the two broke into a laugh.
``Egad, Lowndes,'' said the gentleman, ``here is a fine mystery.Do you think the boy is lying?''
The other gentleman scratched his forehead.
``I'll have you know I don't lie, sir,'' I said, ready to cry.
``No,'' said the other gentleman.``A backwoodsman named Trimble went to Rutledge with credentials from North Carolina, and has gone off to Cherokee Ford to join McCall.''
``Bless my soul!'' exclaimed the first gentleman.He came up and laid his hand on my shoulder, and said:--``Where is Mr.Temple?''
``That I don't know, sir.''
``When did he go away?''
I did not answer at once.
``That I can't tell you, sir.''
``Was there any one with him?''
``That I can't tell you, sir.''
``The devil you can't!'' he cried, taking his hand away.
``And why not?''
I shook my head, sorely beset.
``Come, Mathews,'' cried the gentleman called Lowndes.
``We'll search first, and attend to the lad after.''
And so they began going through the house, prying into every cupboard and sweeping under every bed.They even climbed to the attic; and noting the open casement in the cupola, Mr.Lowndes said:--``Some one has been here to-day.''
``It was I, sir,'' I said.``I have been here all day.''
``And what doing, pray?'' he demanded.
``Watching the battle.And oh, sir,'' I cried, ``can you tell me whether Mister Moultrie beat the British?''
``He did so,'' cried Mr.Lowndes.``He did, and soundly.''
He stared at me.I must have looked my pleasure.
``Why, David,'' says he, ``you are a patriot, too.''
``I am a Rebel, sir,'' I cried hotly.
Both gentlemen laughed again, and the men with them.
``The lad is a character,'' said Mr.Lowndes.
We made our way down into the garden, which they searched last.At the creek's side the boat was gone, and there were footsteps in the mud.
``The bird has flown, Lowndes,'' said Mr.Mathews.
``And good riddance for the Committee,'' answered that gentleman, heartily.``He got to the fleet in fine season to get a round shot in the middle.David,'' said he, solemnly, ``remember it never pays to try to be two things at once.''
``I'll warrant he stayed below water,'' said Mr.Mathews.
``But what shall we do with the lad?''
``I'll take him to my house for the night,'' said Mr.
Lowndes, ``and in the morning we'll talk to him.Ireckon he should be sent to Temple Bow.He is connected in some way with the Temples.''
``God help him if he goes there,'' said Mr.Mathews, under his breath.But I heard him.
They locked up the house, and left one of the men to guard it, while I went with Mr.Lowndes to his residence.
I remember that people were gathered in the streets as we passed, making merry, and that they greeted Mr.Lowndes with respect and good cheer.His house, too, was set in a garden and quite as fine as Mr.Temple's.It was ablaze with candles, and I caught glimpses of fine gentlemen and ladies in the rooms.But he hurried me through the hall, and into a little chamber at the rear where a writing-desk was set.He turned and faced me.
``You must be tired, David,'' he said.
I nodded.
``And hungry? Boys are always hungry.''
``Yes, sir.''
``You had no dinner?''
``No, sir,'' I answered, off my guard.
``Mercy!'' he said.``It is a long time since breakfast.''
``I had no breakfast, sir.''
``Good God!'' he said, and pulled the velvet handle of a cord.A negro came.
``Is the supper for the guests ready?''
``Yes, Marsa.''
``Then bring as much as you can carry here,'' said the gentleman.``And ask Mrs.Lowndes if I may speak with her.''
Mrs.Lowndes came first.And such a fine lady she was that she frightened me, this being my first experience with ladies.But when Mr.Lowndes told her my story, she ran to me impulsively and put her arms about me.
``Poor lad!'' she said.``What a shame!''
I think that the tears came then, but it was small wonder.There were tears in her eyes, too.
Such a supper as I had I shall never forget.And she sat beside me for long, neglecting her guests, and talking of my life.Suddenly she turned to her husband, calling him by name.
``He is Alec Ritchie's son,'' she said, ``and Alec has gone against Cameron.''
Mr.Lowndes did not answer, but nodded.
``And must he go to Temple Bow?''
``My dear,'' said Mr.Lowndes, ``I fear it is our duty to send him there.''
