they was tight up t' me all the way."

"Poor fellow!" said the baroness, who stood at the door. "Help him
in at once and give him a sip of brandy."

"Tuk me prisoner over there 'n the woods thet day," said he,
sinking into a chair and leaning forward, his head on his hands.
"They tuk 'n' they toted me over t' Canady, an' I tuk 'n' got away,
'n' they efter me. Killed one on 'em thet was chasin' uv me over
'n the Beaver medders on the bog trail. Hoss got t' wallerin' so
he hed t' come down. Riz up out o' the grass 'n' ketched holt uv
'im 'fore he c'u'd pull a weepon. Tuk this out uv his pocket, an'
I tried to git the boss out o' the mire, but didn't hev time."

He sat erect and proudly handed me a sheet of paper. I opened it,
and read as follows:--


"To CAPTAIN ELIAS WILKINS, _Royal Fusiliers_.

"_My dear Captain_: You will proceed at once across the river with
a detail of five men mounted and three days' rations, and, if
possible, capture the prisoner who escaped early this morning,
making a thorough search of the woods in Jefferson County. He has
information of value to the enemy, and I regard his death or
capture of high and immediate importance. I am informed that the
young desperado who murdered my Lord of Pickford in the forest
below Clayton June 29, escaping, although badly wounded, is lying
at the country-seat of the Baroness de Ferre, a Frenchwoman, at
Leraysville, Jefferson County, New York. It would gratify me if