Captain Adrian Schuyler pursued his way toward Derryfield, pistol in hand, keeping a vigilant watch over his prisoner. The altercation on the road had detained him so long that the sun had kissed the mountain tops ere he had crossed the valley, and a dark shadow had crept over the landscape.
The hussar felt uneasy, he hardly knew why, but the defiant manner of his prisoner had roused strange misgivings in his breast. Still, nothing occurred to disturb him on his passage through the valley, and as he crossed the ridge on the other side, he came in sight of the village of Derryfield, nestling in the wide valley, through which ran a large tributary of the Connecticut, while the glimmer of lights stole through the gathering darkness.
“Thank Heaven, in sight at last!” ejaculated the officer,
