"I—a prisoner?" Uzal repeated it almost stupidly.
"Aye, Uzal, aye!" Sally's copper-colored head nodded excitedly. "Oh, what good fortune to meet ye thus and that James Williams and his friends are to be cheated o' their prey! Ye must not return home, Uzal!"
"But I was not returning home!" protested Uzal, in an offended voice. "I was on my way to Morris Town!"
"So much the better!" cried Sally. "Continue thy journey—'tis the very thing! For the British will doubtless return to Staten Island e'er long, and James Williams may not find it so easy to secure aid for his schemes next time, forsooth!"
Dumbly, Uzal touched his hat brim, then, and digging his heels into his nag's sides, he started off, leaving Sally to gaze after him. But he had not gone far when he drew sudden rein, turned his horse around, and trotted back to her.
"I—I—believe I owe ye thanks, Sally," he muttered curtly, then. "'Twas kind o' ye to ha' thought o' warning me—going through the forest and all! I—I be grateful to ye!"
"Nay, Uzal, 'twas naught!" Sally shrugged a debonair shoulder.
But suddenly Uzal looked at her almost suspiciously, as though struck by a thought. "Ye were truly going to warn me, Sally? This be not a jest?" he asked doubtfully.
