It was four o'clock when he entered Jonesville. Following a
matter-of-fact idea of his own, he had brought his men the greater
distance by a circuitous route through the woods, thus avoiding the
ostentatious exposure of his party on the open bay in a well-manned
boat to an extended view from the three leagues of shore and marsh
opposite. Crossing the stream, which here separated him from the
Dedlow Marsh by the common ferry, he had thus been enabled to halt
unperceived below the settlement and occupy the two roads by which
the fugitives could escape inland. He had deemed it not impossible
that, after the previous visit of the sergeant, the deserters
hidden in the vicinity might return to Jonesville in the belief
that the visit would not be repeated so soon. Leaving a part of
his small force to patrol the road and another to deploy over the
upland meadows, he entered the village. By the exercise of some
boyish diplomacy and a certain prepossessing grace, which he knew
when and how to employ, he became satisfied that the objects of his
quest were not THERE--however, their whereabouts might have been
known to the people. Dividing his party again, he concluded to
take a corporal and a few men and explore the lower marshes
himself.

The preoccupation of duty, exercise, and perhaps, above all, the
keen stimulus of the iodine-laden salt air seemed to clear his mind
and invigorate his body. He had never been in the Marsh before,
and enjoyed its novelty with the zest of youth. It was the hour
when the tide of its feathered life was at its flood. Clouds of
duck and teal passing from the fresh water of the river to the salt
pools of the marshes perpetually swept his path with flying
shadows; at times it seemed as if even the uncertain ground around
him itself arose and sped away on dusky wings. The vicinity of