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'Since you have been here,' said Stevenson to me, 'we have had yeast bread instead of damper. Mrs. Laidlaw got some from the publican's wife across the river. I remember her telling me that she had most unaccountably lost a quart bottle of it; she thought somebody had emptied it out in mistake. So Pothook take it, Toby?'

'Yes; him drink it all. Greedy fellow that one! no gib me any. Him tink it very good porter,' added the black, with a grin at the recollection. And upon further inquiry it was elicited that, having observed the woman place it on the table on her return home, and concluding it to be porter, Pothook had abstracted it, for he had often longed to taste that liquor. It would have been better for him if had shared the responsibility, as Toby junior proposed, and given him half, for the result was more than he could well bear.

Finding that the two had no more to tell, the superintendent informed them that their lives were spared for the present, but if they attempted to leave the hut they would be shot down. And in this Stevenson was quite in earnest, for after such a confession it was his duty to convey immediate information to the commander of the Border Black Police, the 'Black Troopers,' who were travelling down the river, and who, he had heard, would arrive at a station twenty miles off that evening. He resolved to start at once, and endeavour to return with them at daybreak, before the blacks, who might think themselves perfectly safe for that night, would suspect their vicinity and take to the scrub.