Betty was betrayed into a low laugh.  Moppet was always original, but this was delicious.

“No, child,” she said softly, “the British are some bad, some good, and there are no doubt cruel men to be found in all wars.  Moppet, as you came by the north door, whom did you see on guard in the hall?”

“Josiah Huntington,” said Moppet promptly; “but you heard what Oliver said at supper?”

“Yes,” answered Betty, “Oliver was so weary that Josiah was to watch until twelve o’clock; then, at midnight, Reuben was to guard the hall until four in the morning, when Oliver would take his place until breakfast.  Did you note the time on the hall clock?”

“It was half past eleven,” said Moppet; “the half hour sounded as I rapped.”

Betty sat pondering for a moment, then she slid Moppet gently from her lap to the floor and rose.

“Moppet,” she said gravely, “you are a little maid, but you have a true heart, and I believe you can keep a secret.  I am going to try to release Captain Yorke, and I think you can help me.  I bind you to keep silent, except to our dear and honored father, and even to him you shall not speak until I permit you.  Promise me, dear heart?”

“I promise,” said Moppet solemnly, and Betty knew that, no matter what happened, she could depend on her devoted little sister.

“Moppet,” said Betty, “I have a plan, but ’tis a slender one.  Do you recollect how close the great elm-tree boughs come to your window?”

“I can put out my hand and nearly reach them,” said Moppet; “you remember Reuben cut the bough nearest, but oh, Betty, the tree has a limb which runs an arm’s length only from the north chamber.”

“So I thought,” answered Betty, who was busily engaged in changing her light summer gown for one of homespun gray; “and now, Moppet, you and I must go into your room for the next part of my plot.  I must speak to Captain Yorke, and can you guess how I shall manage to do it?”

Moppet’s eyes grew large and round with excitement.  “I know,” she whispered breathlessly, “through my doll’s dungeon.  Oh, Betty, how lucky ’tis that Oliver never once dreamed of that!”

“I doubt if he even knows its existence,” said Betty.  “There goes the clock,” as the slow, solemn voice of the timepiece sounded out on the night, “It is twelve o’clock, and Reuben will be coming upstairs from the kitchen.  Hark!”—­extinguishing her candle and opening her door softly.  “Josiah has gone to the turn on the stairs, and is speaking to Reuben; quick, Moppet, if you come still as a mouse they will not see us before we can gain your door,” and with swift, soft steps the two small figures stole across the hall in the semi-darkness which the night lamp standing near the great clock but served to make visible, and in another second, panting and eager, they stood safely within Moppet’s chamber, clinging to each other, as they quickly fastened the latch.