"On account of the fire?"

"Yes. He thinks he is a regular lord of creation, he does," went on St.

John hotly. "He wants dressing down, Aunt Alice."

"I cannot believe Jack has done anything very wrong."

"He is a n.o.body, and puts on altogether too many airs."

Mrs. Ruthven would not listen to this talk, and changed the subject by asking him what had brought him over from his home.

"I was asked to come over and see if you had any of the Yankee wounded here."

"Who sent you?"

"Colonel Bromley of our army."

"No, we have only Confederates here."

"How many?"

"Five. Four of them are doing very well, you can tell the colonel, but the fifth was hurt when our house was struck by a cannon ball, and he is now in a high fever."

"All right, I'll tell him."

"Have you joined the army at last?" questioned Marion curiously.

"Not exactly, but I told the colonel I would help him in any manner that I could," answered St. John, and hurried away for fear of being questioned further.

The truth of the matter was that the fire had brought on a bitter quarrel between St. John and his mother, and the parent had insisted that the son overcome his cowardice and do something for his country.

St. John had demurred in vain, and had at last gone to the Confederate headquarters and offered his services; but as a civilian, not as a soldier.

When the young man was gone Mrs. Ruthven and Marion had Old Ben and the others make another search for Jack, and this hunt lasted far into the night.

But it was of no avail; our hero had disappeared as utterly as if the earth had opened and swallowed him.

"Mamma, do you think it possible that the Yankees captured him?" was the question Marion put.

"Not unless Jack left home during the night, Marion. And what would cause him to leave without telling us that he was going?"

"That is true. Jack wouldn't do anything to cause us anxiety."

"It is a great mystery," sighed Mrs. Ruthven.

Later a negro, living on the mountain side, came down to the plantation and asked to see the lady of the house.

"I was t'inkin' yo' would be wantin' ter know wot became o' Master Jack," said the colored man, who rejoiced in the name of Columbus Washington.

"What do you know of him?" asked Mrs. Ruthven quickly.

"I seed him early dis mornin', missus--away up in the mountains."

"The mountains? Alone?"

"No, missus--he was a prisoner."

"Of the Yankees?"

"De men wot had him was dressed as Confed'rates, missus."

"You did not know them?"

"No, missus."

"And you are certain that Jack was held a prisoner?"

"Oh. yes, missus, fo' one ob de men said he would shoot if de boy tried to git away from him."

Mrs. Ruthven clasped her hands in despair.

"A prisoner! Did you speak to him?"

"No, no! I was afraid to show myself. De men was armed an' I wasn't--an'

I didn't want to git in no trouble."

"Where were they taking Jack?"

"I can't say as to dat. I met dem on the ole mill trail near de blasted tree."

"You saw n.o.body else around?"

"No, missus."

"It is very strange why Jack should be carried off in this fashion. I wish you had followed them and seen what became of my boy."

"Perhaps I kin follow dem by de trail, missus. Ise putty good at dat."

"Then do so by all means, and I will reward you for your work."

"T'ank yo,' missus; yo' was always de lady to remember poor n.i.g.g.e.rs."

"If you wish, you can take Old Ben with you. He is good at trailing, too."

So it was arranged, and half an hour later Old Ben and Columbus Washington were on their way. Both knew the mountains thoroughly, and lost no time in getting to the spot where Jack had last been seen.

Then began a hunt for the trail, and this discovered, both went on once more, little dreaming of the surprise in store for them.