won't stand him. Who's Heathcote?"

"Name some who are his enemies."

"There's the Brownbies."

"Oh, the Brownbies. Well, it's a bad thing to have enemies." After
that he left the sugar-house and went across to the cottage.




CHAPTER V.

BOSCOBEL.


Two days and two nights passed without fear of fire, and then Harry
Heathcote was again on the alert. The earth was parched as though no
drop of rain had fallen. The fences were dry as tinder, and the
ground was strewed with broken atoms of timber from the trees, each
of which a spark would ignite. Two nights Harry slept in his bed, but
on the third he was on horseback about the run, watching, thinking,
endeavoring to make provision, directing others, and hoping to make
it believed that his eyes were every where. In this way an entire
week was passed, and now it wanted but four days to Christmas. He
would come home to breakfast about seven in the morning, very tired,
but never owning that he was tired, and then sleep heavily for an
hour or two in a chair. After that he would go out again on the run,
would sleep perhaps for another hour after dinner, and then would