“He’s gone away fur a week, and he won’t be hum before the fust of August, no how,” said the woman resolutely, and adopting Tom’s suggestion to the letter.

“All nonsense, woman!  He is about here, somewhere, and we will find him.”

“You may, if you kin.”

The officer then went out at the back door, as Tom judged by his footsteps, and the woman asked one of the children what had become of the other soldier man.  The boy said he was up chimney.  She then told them not to tell the officer where he was.

“What shell I do?” said she, placing herself before the fireplace.

“Don’t be alarmed.  He will keep out of their way,” replied Tom.

“But the officer man said he was gwine to stay ’bout yere till he gits hum,” moaned the poor woman.

“He will not do any such thing.  Your husband has the woods before him, and he won’t let them catch him.”

“Deary me!  I’m ’feared they will.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re gone out to look for him.”

The officer and his men returned in a few moments, having satisfied themselves that the proprietor of the place was not on the premises.

“Now we’ll search the house,” said the officer; and Tom heard them walking about in the room.

Of course the militia man could not be found, and the officer used some very unbecoming language to express his disapprobation of the skulker, as he called him.

“Woman, if you don’t tell me where your husband is, I’ll have you arrested,” said he, angrily.

“I don’t know myself.  He’s gone off over the mountains to git some things.  Thet’s all I know about it, and if yer want to arrest me, yer kin.”

But the officer concluded that she would be a poor substitute for an able bodied man, and he compromised the matter by leaving one of the privates, instructing him not to let the woman or the children leave the house, and to remain till the skulker returned.

This was not very pleasant information for Tom who perceived that he was likely to be shut up in the chimney for the rest of the day, and perhaps be smoked or roasted out at supper time.  Climbing up to the top of his prison house, he looked over, and saw the officer and one private disappear in the woods which lay between the house and the railroad.  Looking over the other way, he saw the coveted recruit approaching the house from beyond the garden.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The rebel soldier.

Tom Somers was not very well satisfied with his situation, for the soldier who had been left in possession of the house was armed with a musket, and the prospect of escaping before night was not very flattering.  The patriarch of the family, who had such a horror of recruiting officers, was approaching, and in a few moments there would be an exciting scene in the vicinity.