"It is Colonel Carpenter and his company," said Woodburn. "He will
have no time to spare, but enough, I think, if he instantly improves
it, to get safely over. He has smart horses, and is anxious to be on
this side of the river. Let him come."

Accordingly, they returned him encouraging gestures, which being seen
and understood by him, he instantly whipped up his horses, and,
forcing them on the ice, soon effected his passage in safety, and
drove rapidly down the road, leading along the northern bank of the
stream to Connecticut, the object of his speed being obviously to keep
forward of the icy flood, which by his progress might otherwise be
soon obstructed.

"There," resumed Woodburn, breaking the silence with which he and his
companions had been witnessing the rather hazardous passage of their
friends,--"there, the colonel is well over; but his is the last sleigh
to cross this year, unless it be drawn by winged horses."

"Well, winged, or not winged, there is another, it seems, about to
make the attempt," said one of the company, pointing across the river,
where a covered double sleigh, with showy equipage was dashing at full
speed down the road towards the stream.

"It is a hostile craft!" "Peters and his gang!" "We owe them no
favors!" "Let the enemy take care of themselves!" were the
exclamations which burst from the recently-incensed group, as all eyes
were now turned to the spot.

"O, no! no!" exclaimed Woodburn, with looks of the most lively