"Quite sure."
"It must be Jim himself; or else we have been betrayed."
"Was the secret known to many?"
"To all our club, and one besides," said Grudd, frowning anxiously.
"Stackridge made a mistake; I told him so!"
"How?"
"We were drilling here that night when Dutch Carl came to tell us you
were in danger. Stackridge said he knew the boy, and would trust him. So
he brought him in here. And Carl is now a rebel volunteer."
"With him your secret is safe!" Penn hastened to assure the captain.
"Stackridge was right. Carl----"
He paused suddenly, looking at the stairs. Even while the boy's name was
on his lips, the boy himself was entering the cellar. He carried a
musket. He wore the confederate uniform. He was accompanied by Gad and
an officer. They had come to relieve the guard. The men who had
previously been on duty at the foot of the stairs retired with the
officer, and Gad and Carl remained in their place.
Penn at the sight was filled with painful solicitude. To have seen his
young friend and pupil shoulder a confederate musket, knowing that it
was the love of him that made him a rebel, would alone have been grief
enough. How much worse, then, to see him placed here in a position where
it might be necessary, in Grudd's opinion, to "shoot or strangle" him!
But having once exchanged glances with the boy, Penn's mind was set at
rest.
"He has kept your secret," he said to Grudd. "He is very shrewd; and if
we need help, he will help us."
But the noise Penn had heard behind the wall was troubling the captain.
They retired to that part of the cellar. They had been there but a short
time when a very distinct knock was heard on the stones. It sounded like
a signal. Grudd responded, striking the wall with his heel as he leaned
his back against it. Then followed a low whistle in the passage. The
captain's dark features lighted up.
"We are safe!" he whispered in Penn's ear. "It is Stackridge himself!"