For some time after the departure of the
troops, the captain was walking to and fro, before
the door of the “Hotel,” inwardly cursing
his fate that condemned him to an inglorious idleness,
at a moment when a meeting with the enemy
might be expected, and replying to the occasional
queries of Betty, who from the interior of the building,
ever and anon, demanded in a high tone of
voice, an explanation of various points in the pedlar's
escape that as yet she could not comprehend.
At this instant he was joined by the surgeon, who
had hitherto been engaged among his patients in
a distant building, and was profoundly ignorant of
every thing that had occurred, even to the departure
of the troops.

“Where are all the sentinels, John,” he inquired,
as he gazed around with a look of curiosity,
“and why are you here alone?”

“Off—all off, with Dunwoodie, to the river. Yon
and I are left here to take care of a few sick men,
and some women.”

“I am glad, however,” said the surgeon, “that
Major Dunwoodie had consideration enough, not
to move the wounded. Here, you Mrs. Elizabeth
Flannagan, hasten with some food, that I may appease
my appetite. I have a dead body to dissect,
and am in a hurry.”

“And here you, Mister Doctor Archibald Sitgreaves,”
echoed Betty, showing her blooming
countenance from a broken window of the kitchen,
“you are ever a coming too late; here is nothing
to ate but the skin of Jenny and the body you are
mintioning.”

“Woman,” said the surgeon, in anger, “do you
take me for a cannibal, that you address your filthy
discourse to me in this manner.—I bid you
hasten with such food as may be proper to be received
into the stomach fasting.”

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

“And I'm sure its for a pop-gun that I should be
taking you sooner than for a cannon-ball,” said
Betty, winking at the captain, “and I tell you that
its fasting you must be, unless you will let me cook
you a steak from the skin of Jenny. The boys
have eaten me up entirely.”

Lawton now interfered to preserve the peace,
and assured the surgeon that he had already despatched
the proper persons in quest of food for
the party. A little mollified with this explanation,
the operator soon forgot his hunger, and declared
his intention of proceeding to business at once.

“And where is your subject?” asked Lawton,
gravely.

“The pedlar,” said the other, gazing on the
sign-post; “you see I made Hollister put a stage
so high that the neck would not be dislocated by
the fall, and I intend making as handsome a skeleton
of him, as there is in the States of North-America—
the fellow has good points, and his bones are
well knit. Oh! Jack, I will make a perfect beauty
of him. I have long been wanting something
of the sort to send as a present to my old aunt in
Virginia, who was so kind to me when a boy.”

“The devil!” cried Lawton; “would you send
the old woman a dead man's bones.”

“Why not?” said the surgeon; “what nobler
object is there in nature than the figure of a man—
and a skeleton may be called his elementary parts.
But what has been done with the body?”

“Off too.”

“Off!” echoed the panic stricken operator;
“and who has dared to take it away without my
leave.”

“Sure jist the divil,” said Betty; “and who'll
be after taking yourself away some of these times
too, without asking your lave.”

“Silence, you witch,” said Lawton, with

[figure description] Page 043.[end figure description]

difficulty suppressing a laugh; “is this the manner
in which to address an officer.”

“Who called me the filthy Elizabeth Flannagan,”
cried the washerwoman, snapping her fingers
contemptuously. “I can remimber a frind for
a year, and don't forgit an inimy for a month.”

But the friendship or enmity of Mrs. Flannagan
were alike indifferent to the surgeon, who could
think of nothing but his loss; and Lawton was
obliged to explain to his friend the apparent manner
in which it happened.

“And a lucky escape it was for you, my jewel of
a doctor,” cried Betty, as the captain concluded.
“Sergeant Hollister, who saw him face to face, as
it might be, says it's Beelzeboob, and no pedlar, unless
it may be in a small matter of lies and thefts,
and sich wickednesses. Now a pretty figure you
would have been in cutting up Beelzeboob, if the
major had hung him. I don't think it's very asy
he would have been under your knife.”

Thus doubly disappointed in both his meal and
his business, Sitgreaves suddenly declared his intention
of visiting the “Locusts,” and inquiring
into the state of Captain Singleton. Lawton was
ready for the excursion, and mounting they were
soon on the road, though the surgeon was obliged
to submit to a few more jokes from the washerwoman,
before he could get out of hearing. For
some time the two rode in silence, when Lawton
perceiving that his companion's temper was somewhat
ruffled by his disappointments and Betty's
attack, made an effort to restore the tranquillity of
his feelings, by saying—

“That was a charming song, Archibald, that
you commenced, last evening, when we were interrupted
by the party that brought the pedlar. The
allusion to Galen was extremely neat.”

“I knew you would like it, Jack, when your

[figure description] Page 044.[end figure description]

eyes were opened to its beauties,” returned the
operator, suffering his muscles to relax into a smile;
“but when the brain has become confused by the
fumes of wine ascending from the stomach, intoxication
is liable to ensue, and the faculties by no
means continue qualified to discriminate, either in
matters of taste or of science.”

“And yet your ode partook largely of both,” observed
Lawton, suffering no part of him to smile
but his eyes.

“Ode is by no means a proper term for the
composition,” said Sitgreaves. “I should rather
term it a classical ballad.”

“Very probably,” said the trooper; “hearing
only one verse, it was difficult to affix a name to
it.”

The surgeon involuntarily hem'd, and began to
clear his throat, although by no means conscious
himself to what the preparation tended. But the
captain rolling his dark eye towards his companion,
and observing him to be sitting with great
uneasiness on his horse, continued—

“The air is still, and the road solitary—why
not give me the remainder—it might correct the
bad taste you accuse me of possessing, to hear it.”

“Oh! my dear John, if I thought it would correct
the errors you have imbibed, from habit and
indulgence, nothing could give me more pleasure.”

“Try; we are fast approaching some rocks on
our left—the echo from them, I should think, must
be delightful.”

Thus encouraged, and somewhat impelled by
the opinion that he both sung and wrote with exquisite
taste, the surgeon set about complying with
the request in sober earnest. After carefully removing
his spectacles from his eyes, and wiping
the glasses, they were replaced with the utmost

[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

accuracy and precision; his wig was adjusted to
his head with mathematical symmetry, and his voice
being cleared by various efforts until at length its
melody pleased the exquisite sensibility of his own
ear—then, to the no small delight of the trooper,
he begun anew the ditty of the preceding evening.
But whether it was that his steed became enlivened
by the notes of his master, or that he caught a
disposition to trot from Lawton's charger, the surgeon
had not concluded his second verse, before
his tones vibrated in regular cadence to the rise
and fall of his own body on the saddle. Notwithstanding
this somewhat inharmonious interruption,
Sitgreaves resolutely persevered, until he had got
through with the following words—


“Hast thou ever felt love's dart, dearest,
Or breathed his trembling sigh—
Thought him afar, was ever nearest
Before that sparkling eye?
Then hast thou known what 'tis to feel
The pain that Galen could not heal.
Hast thou ever known shame's blush, dearest,
Or felt its thrilling smart
Suffuse thy cheek, like marble, clearest,
As Damon read thy heart?
Then, silly girl, thou'st blush'd to own
A pain that Harvey e'en has known.
But for each pain of thine, dearest,
Or smart of keen love's wound,
For all that, foolish maid, thou fearest,
An antidote is found.
And mighty Hymen's art can heal
Each wound that youthful lovers feel.
Hast thou ever”—

“Hush!” interrupted the trooper; “what rustling
noise is that, among the rocks?”

“The echo.—


“Hast thou ever”—

“Listen,” said Lawton, stopping his horse. He
had not done speaking when a stone fell at his
feet, and rolled harmlessly across the path.

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

“A friendly shot, that,” cried the trooper,
“neither the weapon, nor its force, implies much
ill will towards us.”

“Blows from stones seldom produce more than
contusions,” said the operator, bending his gaze
in every direction in vain, in quest of the hand
from which the missile had been hurled; “it must
be meteoric—there is no living being in sight, except
ourselves.”

“It would be easy to hide a regiment behind
those rocks,” returned the trooper, dismounting,
and taking the stone in his hand,—“Oh! here is
the explanation, along with the mystery.” So
saying, he tore a piece of paper that had been ingeniously
fastened to the small fragment of rock
which had thus singularly fallen before him, and
opening it, the captain read the following words
written in no very legible hand.

“A musket bullet will go farther than a stone,
and things more dangerous than yarbs for wounded
men, lie hid in the rocks of West-Chester. The
steed may be good, but can he mount a precipice?”

“Thou sayest the truth, strange man,” said
Lawton: “courage and activity would avail but
little against assassination, and these rugged passes.”
Remounting his horse, he cried aloud—
“Thanks, unknown friend—your caution will be
remembered, and it shall never be forgotten that
all my enemies are not merciless.”

A meagre hand was extended for an instant over
a rock, waving in the air, and afterwards nothing
further was seen or heard by the soldiers.

“Quite an extraordinary interruption,” said the
astonished operator, “and a letter of a very mysterious
meaning.”

“Oh! 'tis nothing but the wit of some bumpkin
who thinks to frighten two of the Virginians by an

[figure description] Page 047.[end figure description]

artifice of this kind,” said the trooper, placing the
billet in his pocket; “but let me tell you, Mr.
Archibald Sitgreaves, you were wanting to dissect
just now, a damn'd honest fellow.”

“It was the pedlar—one of the most notorious
spies in the enemy's service,” returned the other;
“and I must say, that I think it an honour to such
a man to be devoted to the use of science.”

“He may be a spy—he must be one,” said
Lawton, musing; “but he has a heart above enmity,
and a soul that would honour a gallant soldier.”

The surgeon turned an inquiring eye on his
companion as he uttered this soliloquy, while the
penetrating looks of the trooper had already discovered
another pile of rocks, which jutting forward,
nearly obstructed the highway that wound
directly around its base.

“What the steed cannot mount, the foot of
man can overcome,” exclaimed the wary partisan.
Throwing himself again from his saddle, and leaping
a wall of stone, he began to ascend the hill at
a place which would soon have given him a birds'
eye view of the rocks in question, together with
all their crevices. This movement was no sooner
made than Lawton caught a glimpse of the figure
of a man stealing rapidly from his approach, and
disappearing on the opposite side of the precipice.

“Spur—Sitgreaves—Spur,” shouted the trooper,
dashing over every impediment in pursuit,
“and murder the villain as he flies.”

The request was promptly complied with, and
a few moments brought the surgeon in full
view of a man armed with a musket, who was
crossing the road, and evidently seeking the protection
of the thick wood on its opposite side.

“Stop, my friend—stop until Captain Lawton

[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]

comes up, if you please,” cried the surgeon, observing
him to flee with a rapidity that baffled his
horsemanship. But as if the invitation contained
new terrors, the footman redoubled his efforts, nor
paused even to breathe, until he had reached his
goal, when, turning his on heel, he discharged his
musket towards the operator, and was out of sight
in an instant. To gain the highway and throw
himself in his saddle detained Lawton but a moment,
and he rode to the side of his comrade just
as the figure had disappeared.

“Which way has he fled?” cried the trooper.

“John,” said the surgeon, “am I not a noncombatant?”

“Whither has the rascal fled?” cried Lawton
again, impatiently.

“Where you cannot follow—into that wood,”
returned the surgeon. “But I repeat, John, am I
not a non-combatant?”

The disappointed trooper perceiving that his
enemy had escaped him, now turned his eyes,
which were flashing with anger under his dark
brows, upon his comrade, and gradually his muscles
lost their rigid compression, his brow relaxed
and his eyes changed from their fierce expression,
to the covert laughter which so often distinguished
that organ in the trooper. The surgeon sat in
dignified composure on his horse; his thin body
erect, and head elevated with all the indignity of
conscious injustice towards himself—his spectacles
had been shaken down to the extreme end of
the ample member on which they rested, and his
eyes were glaring above them with the fullness
of indignation.

A slight convulsive effort composed the muscles
of the trooper's face, however, and he broke the
silence again, by saying—

[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]

“Why did you suffer the rascal to escape—had you
but brought him within the reach of my sabre, I
would have given you a substitute for the pedlar.”

“'Twas impossible to prevent it,” said the surgeon,
pointing to the bars, before which he had
stopped his horse; “he threw himself on the other
side of this fence, and left me where you see—nor
would the man in the least attend to my remonstrances,
or intimation that you wished to hold discourse
with him.”

“No!” exclaimed Lawton, in an affected surprise;
“he was truly a discourteous rascal; but
why did you not leap the fence, and compel him
to a halt—you see but three of the bars are up, and
Betty Flannagan could clear them, on her cow.”

The surgeon, for the first time, withdrew his eyes
from the place where the fugitive had disappeared,
and turned his countenance towards his comrade.
His head, however, was not permitted to
lower itself in the least, as he replied—

“I humbly conceive, Captain Lawton, that neither
Mrs. Elizabeth Flannagan, nor her cow, are
examples to be emulated by Doctor Archibald
Sitgreaves—it would be but a sorry compliment
to science to say that a Doctor of Medicine had
fractured both his legs, by injudiciously striking
them against a pair of bar-posts.” While speaking,
the surgeon raised the limbs in question to
a nearly horizontal position, that really appeared
to bid defiance to any thing like a passage for
himself through the defile; but the trooper, disregarding
this ocular proof of the impossibility of
the movement, cried hastily—

“Here was nothing to stop you man; I could
leap a platoon through, boot and thigh, without
pricking with a single spur. Pshaw, I have often
charged upon the bayonets of infantry over greater
difficulties than this.”

[figure description] Page 050.[end figure description]

“You will please to remember, Captain John
Lawton,” said the surgeon, with a most imposing
air of offended dignity, “that I am not the riding
master to the regiment—nor a drill sergeant—nor
a crazy cornet—no, sir—and I speak it with a due
respect for the commission of the continental Congress—
nor an inconsiderate captain who regards
his own life as little as that of his enemies. I am
only, sir, a poor, humble man of letters, a mere
Doctor of Medicine, an unworthy graduate of
Edinburgh, and a surgeon of dragoons, nothing
more I do assure you, Captain John Lawton.”
So saying, he turned his horse's head towards the
cottage, and re-commenced his ride.

“Ay! you speak the truth,” muttered the dragoon;
“had I but the meanest rider of my troop
with me, I should have taken the scoundrel, and
given at least one victim to the offended laws of
my country. But, Archibald, no man can ride
well who straddles in this manner like the Colossus
of Rhodes. You should depend less on your
stirrup, and keep your seat by the power of the
knee.”

“With proper deference to your experience,
Captain Lawton,” returned the surgeon, “I conceive
myself to be no incompetent judge of muscular
action, whether in the knee or any other
part of the human frame. And although but humbly
educated, I am not now to learn, that the
wider the base, the more firm is the superstructure.”

“Yes, but damn it,” cried Lawton, impatiently,
“would you fill a highway in this manner with
one pair of legs, when half a dozen might pass
together in comfort—stretching them abroad like
the scythes to the ancient chariot wheels.”

The allusion to the practice of the ancients

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

somewhat softened the indignation of the surgeon,
and he replied with rather less hauteur—

“You should speak with reverence of the
usages of those who have gone before us, and
who, however ignorant they were in matters of
science, and particularly that of surgery, yet furnished
many brilliant exceptions to the superstitions
of the day. Now, sir, I have no doubt that
Galen has operated on wounds occasioned by
these very scythes that you mention, although we
can find no evidence of the fact in cotemporary
writers. Ah! they must have given dreadful injuries,
and I doubt not, caused great uneasiness to
the medical gentlemen of that day.”

“There could not have been much science displayed,
I think,” returned the trooper, collecting
himself into his usual manner; “and
occasionally a body must have been left in two
pieces, to puzzle the ingenuity of those gentry to
unite. Yet doubtless they did it.”

“What!” cried the operator in amazement,
“unite two parts of the human body that have
been severed by an edged instrument, to any of
the purposes of animal life?”

“That have been rent asunder by a scythe, and
united to do military duty,” said Lawton.

“'Tis impossible—quite impossible,” cried the
surgeon; “it is in vain, Captain Lawton, that
human ingenuity endeavours to baffle the efforts
of nature. Think, my dear sir, in this case you
separate all the arteries—injure all of the intestines—
sever all of the nerves and sinews, and,
what is of more consequence, you”—

“Enough,” said Lawton, waving his hand;
“you have said enough, Dr. Sitgreaves, and I am
convinced. Nothing shall ever tempt me willingly
to submit to be divided in this irretrievable

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

manner—a manner, I say, Dr. Sitgreaves, that
puts at defiance all the arts of surgery.”

“True—most true, my dear John,” cried the
surgeon with warmth, and forgetting his displeasure;
“it removes all the pleasure of a wound,
when you find it beyond the reach of science to
heal.”

“I should think so,” said Lawton, rather drily.

“What do you think is the greatest pleasure in
life?” asked the operator suddenly, and with all
his confidence in his companion restored.

“That may be difficult to answer.”

“Not at all,” cried the surgeon; “it is in witnessing,
or rather feeling, the ravages of disease
repaired by the lights of science co-operating with
nature. I once broke my little finger intentionally,
in order that I might reduce the fracture
and watch the cure; it was only on a small scale,
you know, dear John; still I think the thrilling sensation,
excited by the knitting of the bone, aided
by the contemplation of the art of man thus acting
in unison with nature, exceeded any other enjoyment
that I have ever experienced. Oh! had
it been one of the more important members, such
as the leg or arm, how much greater must the
pleasure have been.”

“Or the neck,” said the trooper; but their discourse
was interrupted by their arrival at the cottage
of Mr. Wharton. No one appearing to usher
them into an apartment, the captain proceeded to
the door of the parlour, where he knew visitors
were commonly shown. On opening it, he paused
for a moment, in admiration, at the scene within.
The person of Col. Wellmere first met his eye,
bending forward towards the figure of the blushing
Sarah, with an earnestness of manner, that
prevented the noise of Lawton's entrance being
heard by either of the parties. Certain

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

significant signs, which were embraced at a glance by
the prying gaze of the trooper, at once made him
a master of their secret, and he was about to retire
as silently as he had advanced, when his companion,
pushing himself through the passage,
abruptly entered the apartment. Advancing instantly
to the chair of Wellmere, the surgeon instinctively
laid hold of his arm and exclaimed—

“Bless me—a quick and irregular pulse—
flushed cheek and fiery eye—strong febrile symptoms,
and such as must be attended to.” While
speaking, the doctor, who was much addicted to
practising in a summary way, had already produced
his lancet, and made certain other indications
of his intentions to proceed at once to business.
But Col. Wellmere, recovering from the
confusion of the surprise, arose from his seat,
rather haughtily, and said—

“Sir, it is the warmth of the room, that lends
me the colour, and I am already too much indebted
to your skill to give you any farther trouble—
Miss Wharton knows that I am quite well,
and I do assure you that I never felt better or
happier in my life.”

There was a peculiar emphasis in the latter
part of this speech, that, however it might gratify
the feelings of Sarah, brought the colour to her
cheeks with a redoubled brilliancy, and Sitgreaves,
as his eye followed the direction of those of his
patient, did not fail to observe it.

“Your arm, if you please, madam,” said the
surgeon promptly, advancing with a bow; “anxiety
and watching have done their work on your delicate
frame, and there are symptoms about you
that must not be neglected.”

“Excuse me, sir,” said Sarah, recovering herself
with womanly pride, “the heat is oppressive,

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

and I will retire and acquaint Miss Peyton with
your presence.”

There was but little difficulty in practising on
the abstracted simplicity of the surgeon; but
it was necessary for Sarah to raise her eyes to return
the salutation of Lawton, as he bowed his
head to nearly a level with the hand that held
open the door for her passage. One look was
sufficient; she was able to control her steps sufficiently
to retire with dignity, but no sooner was
she relieved from the presence of all observers,
than she fell into a chair and abandoned herself
to a mingled feeling of shame and pleasure.

A little nettled at the contumacious deportment
of the British colonel, Sitgreaves, after once more
tendering services that were again rejected, withdrew
to the chamber of young Singleton whither
Lawton had already preceded him.

CHAPTER V.

“Oh! Henry, when thou delgn'st to sue,
Can I thy sult withstand?
When thou, lov'd youth, bast won my heart,
Can I refuse my hand?”
Hermit of Warkworth.

[figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

The graduate of Edinburgh found his patient
rapidly improving in health, and entirely free
from fever. His sister, with a cheek that was, if
possible, paler than on her arrival, watched around
his couch with vigilant care, and the ladies of the
cottage had not, in the midst of their sorrows and
varied emotions, forgotten to discharge the duties
of hospitality. Frances felt herself impelled towards
their disconsolate guest, with an interest
for which she could not account, and with a force
that she could not control. The maid had unconsciously
connected the fates of Dunwoodie and
Isabella in her imagination, and felt, with all the
romantic ardour of a generous mind, that she
was serving her former lover most, by exhibiting
kindness to her he loved best. Isabella received
her attentions with a kind of vacant gratitude, but
neither of them indulged in any allusion to the
latent source of their uneasiness. The observation
of Miss Peyton seldom penetrated beyond things
that were visible, and to her the situation of Henry
Wharton seemed to furnish an awful excuse for
the fading cheeks and tearful eyes of her niece.
If Sarah manifested less of care than her sister,
still the unpractised spinster was not at a loss to
comprehend the reason. Love is a species of
holy feeling with the virtuous of the female sex,

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

and seems to hallow all that comes within its influence.
Although Miss Peyton mourned with
sincerity over the danger which threatened her
nephew, still she indulged her eldest niece, with
motherly kindness, in the enjoyment that chance
had given her early attachment. War she well
knew was a dreadful enemy to love, and the moments
that were thus granted to his votaries were
not to be thrown away.

Several days now passed without any interruption
to the usual vocations of the inhabitants of the cottage,
or the party at the “four corners.” The former
were supporting their fortitude with the certainty
of Henry's innocence, and a strong reliance
on Dunwoodie's exertions in his behalf, and the latter
waiting with coolness the intelligence that was
hourly expected of a conflict, and their orders to
depart. Captain Lawton, however, waited for
both these events in vain. Letters from his major
announced that the enemy, finding the party
which was to co-operate with them, had been
defeated and was withdrawn, had retired also
behind the works of Fort Washington, where they
continued inactive, but threatening momentarily
to strike a blow in revenge for their disgrace.
The trooper was enjoined to vigilance, and the
letter concluded with a compliment to his honour,
zeal, and undoubted bravery.

“Extremely flattering, Major Dunwoodie,”
muttered the dragoon as he threw down this epistle,
and stalked across the floor of his room to
quiet his impatience. “A proper guard have
you selected for this service—let me see—I have
to watch over the interests of a crazy, irresolute
old man, who does not know whether he belongs to
us or to the enemy. Four women; three of whom
are well enough in themselves, but who are not
immensely flattered by my society, and the fourth

[figure description] Page 057.[end figure description]

who, good as she is, is on the wrong side of forty—
some two or three blacks—a talkative house-keeper
that does nothing but chatter about gold
and despisables, and signs and omens—and poor
George Singleton—Ah! well a comrade in suffering
has a claim on a man, next to his honour in the
field, and an engagement with his mistress—so
I'll make the best of it.”

As he concluded this soliloquy, the trooper took
a seat and began to whistle to convince himself
how little he cared about the matter, when, by
throwing his booted leg carelessly round, he upset
the canteen that held his present stock of brandy.
The accident was soon repaired, but in replacing
the wooden vessel, he observed a billet lying on
the bench, on which the liquor had been placed.
It was soon opened and he read—“the moon will
not rise till after midnight—a fit time for deeds
of darkness.” There was no mistaking the hand;
it was clearly the same that had given him the
timely warning against assassination, and the
trooper continued, for a long time, musing on the
nature of these two notices, and the motives that
could induce the mysterious pedlar to favour an
implacable enemy in the manner that he latterly
had done. That he was a spy of the enemy Lawton
knew, for the fact of his conveying intelligence
to the English commander-in-chief of a
party of Americans that were exposed to the enemy,
was proved most clearly against him on the
trial for his life. The consequences of his treason
had been avoided, it is true, by a lucky order
from Washington, which withdrew the regiment
a short time before the British appeared to cut it
off, but still the crime was the same; perhaps,
thought the partisan, he wishes to make a friend
of me, against the event of another capture; but,
at all events, he spared my life on one occasion,

[figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

and saved it on another. I will endeavour to be
as generous as himself, and pray that my duty
may never interfere with my feelings. Whether
the danger, intimated in the present note, threatened
the cottage or his own party, the captain was
uncertain, but he inclined to the latter opinion,
and determined to beware how he rode abroad
in the dark. To a man in a peaceable country,
and in times of quiet and order, the indifference
with which the partisan regarded the impending
danger, would be inconceivable. His contemplations
on the subject were more for devising
means to entrap his enemies, than to escape their
machinations. But the arrival of the surgeon,
who had been to pay his daily visit to the Locusts,
interrupted his meditations. Sitgreaves brought
an invitation from the mistress of the mansion, to
Captain Lawton, desiring that the cottage might
be honoured with his presence at an early hour
on that evening.

“What!” cried the trooper, “then they have
received a letter also.”

“I think nothing more probable,” said the operator;
“there is a chaplain here from the Royal
Army, who has come out to exchange the British
wounded, and who has an order from Col. Singleton
for their delivery. But a more mad project
than to remove them now was never adopted.”

“A priest, say you—is he a hard drinker—a
real camp-idler—a fellow to breed a famine in a
regiment?—or does he seem a man who is in
earnest in his trade?”

“A very respectable and orderly gentleman,
not at all given to intemperance, judging from the
outward symptoms,” returned the surgeon, “and
a man who really says grace in a very regular and
appropriate manner.”

“And does he stay the night?”

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

“Certainly, he waits for his cartel; but hasten,
John, we have but little time to waste. I will
just step up and bleed two or three of the Englishmen
who are to move in the morning, in order to
prevent inflammation, and be with you immediately.”

The gala suit of Captain Lawton was easily adjusted
to his huge frame, and his companion being
ready, they once more took their route towards
the cottage. Roanoke had been as much benefited
by a few days rest as his master, and Lawton
ardently wished, as he curbed his gallant
steed, on passing the well-remembered rocks,
that his treacherous enemy stood before him
mounted and armed as himself. But no enemy,
nor any disturbance whatever interfered with
their progress, and they reached the Locusts just
as the sun was throwing his setting rays on the
valley, and tinging the tops of the leafless trees
with the colour of gold. It never required more
than a single look, to acquaint the trooper with
the particulars of every scene that was not uncommonly
veiled, and the first survey that he
took on entering the house, told him more than
the observations of a day had put into the possession
of Dr. Sitgreaves. Miss Peyton accosted
him with a smiling welcome that exceeded
the bounds of ordinary courtesy, and evidently
flowed more from feelings that were connected
with the heart than from manner. Frances glided
about, tearful, and agitated, while Mr. Wharton
stood ready to receive them, decked in a suit of
velvet, that would have been conspicuous in the
gayest drawing-rooms on the continent. Col.
Wellmere was in the uniform of an officer
of the household troops of his prince, and Isabella
Singleton sat in the parlour, clad in the
habiliments of joy, but with a countenance that

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

belied her appearance, while her brother by her
side, looked with a cheek of flitting colour, and
an eye of intense interest, like any thing but an
invalid. As it was the third day that he had left
his room, Dr. Sitgreaves, who began to stare about
him in stupid wonder, forgot to reprove his patient
for his imprudence. Into this scene, Captain
Lawton moved with all the composure and
gravity of a man whose nerves were not easily
discomposed by novelties. His compliments were
received as graciously as they were offered, and
after exchanging a few words with the different
individuals in the room, he approached to where
the surgeon had withdrawn in a kind of confused
astonishment to rally his senses to the occasion.

“John,” whispered the surgeon, with awakened
curiosity, “what do you think?”

“That your wig and my black head would look
the better for a little of Betty Flannagan's best
flour; but it is too late now, and we must fight
the battle armed as you see—why, Archibald, you
and I look like militiamen flanked by those holiday
Frenchmen who have come among us.”

“Observe,” said Sitgreaves, in increasing wonder,
“here comes the army chaplain in his full
robes as a Doctor Divinitatis—what can it mean?”

“An exchange,” said the trooper; “the wounded
of Cupid are to meet and settle their accounts
with the god, in the way of plighting their faith to
suffer from his archery no more.”

“Oh!” ejaculated the operator, laying his
finger on the side of his nose, and for the first
time comprehending the case.

“Yes—oh!” muttered Lawton, in imitation—
when turning suddenly to his comrade, he said
fiercely, but in an under tone, “Is it not a crying
shame, that a sunshine-hero, and an enemy, should

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

thus be suffered to steal away one of the fairest
plants that grows in our soil—a flower fit to be
placed in the bosom of any man.”

“You speak the truth, John; and if he be not
more accomodating as a husband, than as a patient,
I fear me that the lady will lead a troubled life.”

“Let her,” said the trooper indignantly; “she
has chosen from her country's enemies, and may
she meet with a foreigner's virtues in her choice.”

Their further conversation was interrupted by
Miss Peyton, who, advancing, acquainted them that
they had been invited to grace the nuptials of her
eldest niece and Col. Wellmere. The gentlemen
bowed in silence at this explanation of what they
already understood, and the good spinster, with
an inherent love of propriety, went on to add,
that the acquaintance was of an old date, and the
attachment by no means a sudden thing. To this
Lawton merely bowed, but the surgeon, who loved
to hold converse with the virgin, replied—

“That the human mind was differently constituted
in different individuals. In some, impressions
are vivid and transitory; in others, more
deep and lasting:—indeed, there are some philosophers
who pretend to trace a connexion between
the physical and mental powers of the animal;
but for my part, madam, I believe that the one is
much influenced by habit and association, and the
other subject to the laws of science.”

Miss Peyton, in her turn, bowed her silent assent
to this remark, and retired with dignity, to
usher the intended bride into the presence of the
company. The hour had arrived when American
custom has decreed, that the vows of wedlock
must be exchanged; and Sarah, blushing with a
variety of emotions, followed her aunt to the withdrawing
room. Wellmere sprang to receive the
hand that she extended towards him with an

[figure description] Page 062.[end figure description]

averted face, and, for the first time, the English Colonel
appeared conscious of the important part that
he was to act in the approaching ceremonies.
Hitherto his air had been abstracted, and his manner
uneasy; but every thing excepting the certainty
of his bliss, seemed to vanish at the blaze of
loveliness that burst on his sight with the presence
of his mistress. All arose from their seats, and
the reverend gentleman had already opened
the volume in his hand, when the absence of Frances
was noticed: Miss Peyton again withdrew in
search of her niece, whom she found in her own
apartment, and in tears.

“Come, my love, the ceremony waits but for
us,” said the aunt, affectionately entwining her
arm in that of her niece; “endeavour to compose
yourself, that proper honour may be done to the
choice of your sister.”

“Is he—can he be worthy of her?” cried Frances,
in a burst of emotion, and throwing herself
into the arms of the spinster.

“Can he be otherwise?” returned Miss Peyton;
“is he not a gentleman?—a gallant soldier,
though an unfortunate one? and certainly, my
love, one who appears every way qualified to
make any woman happy.”

Frances had given vent to her feelings, and, with
an effort, she collected sufficient resolution to venture
again to join the expecting party below. But
to relieve the embarrassment of this delay, the
clergyman had put sundry questions to the bridegroom;
one of which was by no means answered
to his satisfaction. Wellmere was compelled to
acknowledge that he was unprovided with a ring,
and to perform the marriage ceremony without
one, the divine pronounced to be impossible. His
appeal to Mr. Wharton for the propriety of this
decision, was answered affirmatively, as it would

[figure description] Page 063.[end figure description]

have been negatively, had the question been put
in a manner to lead to such a result. The owner
of the Locusts had lost the little energy he
possessed, by the blow recently received through
his son, and his assent to the objection of the
clergyman, was as easily obtained, as his consent
to the premature proposals of Wellmere. In
this stage of the dilemma, Miss Peyton and Frances
appeared. The surgeon of dragoons approached
the former, and as he hand ed her to a chair,
observed—

“It appears, Madam, that untoward circumstances
have prevented Colonel Wellmere from providing
all of the decorations that custom, antiquity,
and the canons of the church, have prescribed
as indispensable to enter into the honourable state
of wedlock.”

Miss Peyton glanced her quiet eye at the uneasy
bridegroom, and perceiving him to be adorned
with what she thought sufficient splendour, allowing
for the time and the suddenness of the occasion,
she turned her look on the speaker with a
surprise that demanded an explanation.

The surgeon understood her wishes, and proceeded
at once to gratify them.

“There is,” he observed, “an opinion prevalent,
that the heart lies on the left side of the
body, and that the connexion between the members
of that side and what may be called the seat
of life, is more intimate than that which exists
with their opposites. But this is an error that
grows out of an ignorance of the scientific arrangement
of the human frame. In obedience to
this opinion, the fourth finger of the left hand is
thought to contain a virtue that belongs to no
other of its class, and is encircled, during the solemnization
of wedlock, with a cincture or ring, as
if to chain that affection to the marriage state,

[figure description] Page 064.[end figure description]

which is best secured by the graces of the female
character.” While speaking, the operator laid his
hand impressively on his heart, and bowed nearly
to the floor as be concluded.

“I know not, sir, that I rightly understand your
meaning,” said Miss Peyton, with dignity, but suffering
a slight vermilion to appear on a cheek that
had long lost that peculiar charm of youth.

“A ring, Madam—a ring is wanting for the
ceremony.”

The instant that the surgeon spoke explicitly,
the awkwardness of their situation was comprehended.
She glanced her eyes at her neices, and
in the younger she read a secret exultation that
somewhat displeased her; but the countenance of
Sarah was suffused with a shame that the considerate
aunt well understood. Not for the world
would she violate any of the observances of female
etiquette. It suggested itself to all the females
of the Wharton family, at the same moment,
that the wedding ring of their late mother
and sister was reposing peacefully amid the rest
of her jewellery, in a secret receptacle that had
been provided at an early day, to secure the valuables
against the predatory inroads of the marauders
who roamed through the county. Into this
hidden vault, the plate and whatever was most
prized made a nightly retreat, and there the ring
in question had long lain, forgotten until at this
moment. But it was the business of the bridegroom,
from time immemorial, to furnish this
indispensable to wedlock, and on no account
would Miss Peyton do any thing that transcended
the usual courtesies of her sex on this solemn occasion;
certainly not until sufficient expiation for
the offence had been made by a due portion of
trouble and disquiet. The spinster, therefore, retained
the secret from a regard to decorum, Sarah

[figure description] Page 065.[end figure description]

from feeling, and Frances from both, united to dissatisfaction
at the connexion. It was reserved for
Dr. Sitgreaves to break the embarrassment of the
party by again speaking:

“If, Madam, a plain ring that once belonged to
a sister of my own—” The operator paused a
moment, and hem'd once or twice; “if, Madam,
a ring of that description might be admitted to this
honour, I have one that could be easily produced
from my quarters at the “corners,” and I doubt
not it would fit the finger for which it is desired.
There is a strong resemblance between—hem—
between my late sister and Miss Wharton in stature
and anatomical figure, and the proportions are
apt to be observed throughout the whole animal
economy.”

A glance of Miss Peyton's eye recalled Colonel
Wellmere to a sense of his duty, and springing
from his chair, he assured the surgeon, that in no
way could he impose heavier obligations on him,
than by sending for that very ring. The operator
bowed a little haughtily, and withdrew to fulfil
his promise, by despatching a messenger on the
errand. The spinster suffered him to retire;
but unwillingness to admit a stranger into the privacy
of their domestic arrangements, induced her
to follow and tender the services of Cæsar instead
of Sitgreaves' man, who had been offered by Isabella
for this duty—her brother, probably from bodily
weakness, continuing silent throughout the
whole evening. Katy Haynes was accordingly
directed to summon the black to the vacant parlour,
and thither the spinster and surgeon repaired,
to give their several instructions.

The consent to this sudden union of Sarah and
Wellmere, and especially at a time when the life
of a member of the family was in such imminent
jeopardy, was given from a conviction, that the

[figure description] Page 066.[end figure description]

unsettled state of the country, would probably
prevent another opportunity for the lovers meeting,
and a secret dread on the part of Mr. Wharton,
that the death of his son, might, by hastening
his own, leave his remaining children without a
protector. But notwithstanding that Miss Peyton
had complied with her brother's wish to profit by
the accidental visit of a divine, she had not
thought it necessary to blazon the intended nuptials
of her niece to the neighbourhood, had even
time been allowed: she thought, therefore, that
she was now communicating a profound secret to
Cæsar and her housekeeper.

“Cæsar,” she commenced with a smile, “you
are now to learn, that your young mistress, Miss
Sarah, is to be united to Colonel Wellmere this
evening.”

“No, no—I tink I see em afore,” said Cæsar,
laughing and chuckling with inward delight, as he
shook his head with conscious satisfaction at his
own prescience; “old black man tell when a
young lady talk all alone wid a gem'man in a parlour.”

“Really, Cæsar, I find I have never given you
credit for half the observation that you deserve,”
said the spinster gravely; “but as you already
know on what emergency your services are required,
listen to the directions of this gentleman, and
take care to observe them strictly.”

The black turned in quiet submission to the surgeon,
who commenced as follows:

“Cæsar, your mistress has already acquainted
you with the important event about to be solemnized
within this habitation; but a ring is wanting,
and by riding to the mess-house at the Four Corners,
and delivering this billet to either sergeant
Hollister or Mrs. Elizabeth Flanagan, it will
speedily be placed in your possession. On its

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

receipt return hither, and fail not to use diligence
in both going and returning, for my patients will
shortly require my presence in the hospital, and
Captain Singleton already suffers from the want
of rest.”

By this time the surgeon had forgotten every
thing but what appertained to his own duties, and
rather unceremoniously left the apartment. Curiosity,
or perhaps an opposite feeling, delicacy,
induced Miss Peyton to glance her eye on the
open billet that Sitgreaves had delivered to the
black, where she read as follows:—it was addressed
to his assistant.

“If the fever has left Kinder, give him nourishment.
Take three ounces more of blood from
Watson. Have a search made that the woman
Flanagan has left none of her jugs of alcohol in
the hospital;—renew the dressings of Johnson,
and dismiss Smith to duty. Send the ring, which
is pendent from the chain of the watch that I left
with you to time the doses, by the bearer.

“Archibald Sitgreaves, M. D.
Surgeon of Dragoons.

Miss Peyton yielded this singular epistle to the
charge of the black, in silent wonder, and withdrew,
leaving Katy and Cæsar to arrange the departure
of the latter.

“Cæsar,” said Katy, with imposing solemnity,
“put the ring when you get it, in your left
pocket, that is nearest your heart; and by no
means indivour to try it on your finger, for it is
unlucky.”—

“Try him on a finger?” interrupted the negro,
stretching forth his bony knuckles; “tink a Miss
Sally's ring go on old Cæsar finger?”

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

“'Tis not consequential whether it goes on or
not,” said the housekeeper; “but it is an evil
omen to place a marriage ring on the finger of another
after wedlock, and of course it may be dangerous
before.”

“I tell you Katy,” cried Cæsar, a little indignantly,
“I go fetch a ring, and neber tink to put
him on a finger.”

“Go—go then, Cæsar,” said Katy, suddenly
recollecting divers important items in the supper
that required her attention; “and hurry back
again, and stop not for living soul.”

With this injunction Cæsar departed, and was
soon firmly fixed in the saddle. From his youth,
the black, like all of his race, had been a hard rider;
but charged with a message of such importance,
he moved at first with becoming dignity, and
bending under the weight of sixty winters, his African
blood had lost some of its native heat. The
night was dark, and the wind whistled through
the vale with the chilling dreariness of the blasts
of November. By the time Cæsar reached the
grave-yard, that had so lately received the body
of the elder Birch, all the horrors of his situation
began to burst on the mind of the old man, and
he threw around him many a fearful glance, in
momentary expectation of seeing something superhuman.
There was barely light sufficient to
discern a being of earthly mould emerging into
the highway, and apparently from the graves of
the dead. It is in vain that philosophy and reason
contend with our fears and early impressions,
but Cæsar had neither to offer him their frail support.
He was, however, well mounted on a coach-horse
of Mr. Wharton's, and clinging to the back
of the animal with instinctive skill, he abandoned
the rein to the pleasure of the beast. Hillocks,
woods, rocks, fences and houses flew by

[figure description] Page 069.[end figure description]

him with the rapidity of lightning, and the black
had just began to think where and on what business
it was, that he was riding in this headlong
manner, when he reached the place where the
two roads met, and the “Hotel Flanagan”
stood in all its dilapidated simplicity. The sight
of a cheerful fire through its windows, first gave
Cæsar a pledge that he had reached the habitation
of man, and with it came all his dread of the
bloody Virginians;—his duty must, however, be
done, and dismounting, he fastened the foaming
animal to a fence, and approached the window
with cautious steps, to listen and reconnoitre.

Before a blazing fire sat sergeant Hollister and
Betty Flanagan, enjoying themselves over a liberal
donation from the stores of the washerwoman.

“I tell yee sargeant, dear,” said Betty, removing
the mug from her mouth, “'tis no reasonable
to think it was any thing more than the pidlar
himself; sure now, where was the smell of sulphur,
and the wings, and the tail, and the cloven
foot?—besides sargeant, its no dacent to tell a
lone famale that she had Beelzeboob for a bed-fellow.”

“It matters but little Mrs. Flanagan, provided
you escape his talons and fangs hereafter,” returned
the veteran, following his remark by a heavy
potation.

Cæsar heard enough to convince him, that
danger to himself from this pair was but little to
be apprehended. His teeth already began to
chatter from cold and terror, and the sight of the
comfort within, stimulated him greatly to adventure
to enter. He made his approaches with proper
caution, and knocked with extreme humility
at the door. The appearance of Hollister with a
drawn sword, roughly demanding who was without,
contributed in no degree to the restoration of

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

his faculties; but fear itself lent him power to explain
his errand.

“Advance,” said the sergeant with military
promptness, and throwing a look of close scrutiny
on the black, as he brought him to the light; “advance,
and deliver your despatches:—but stop,
have you the countersign?”

“I don't tink a know what he be,” said the
black, shaking in his shoes.

“Who ordered you on this duty did you say?”

“A tall massa, with a spectacle,” returned Cæsar;
“he came a doctering a Capt. Singleton.”

“'Twas Doctor Sitgreaves; he never knows the
countersign himself—now, blackey, had it been
Captain Lawton, he would not have sent you here
close to a sentinel without the countersign; for
you might get a pistol bullet through your head,
and that would be cruel to you, for although you
be black, I am none of them who thinks niggurs
haven't no souls.”

“Sure a nagur has as much sowl as a white,”
said Betty; “come hither, ould man, and warm
that shivering carcass of yeers by the blaze of this
fire. I'm sure a Guinea nagur loves heat as much
as a souldier loves his drop.”

Cæsar obeyed in silence, and a mulatto boy,
who was sleeping on a bench in the room, was
bidden to convey the note of the surgeon to the
building where the wounded were quartered.

“Here,” said the washerwoman, tendering to
Cæsar a taste of the article that most delighted
herself, “try a drop, smooty, 'twill warm the
black sowl within your body, and be giving you
spirits as you are going homeward.”

“I tell you, Elizabeth,” said the sergeant, “that
the souls of niggurs are the same as our own, and
how often have I heard the good Mr. Whitfield
say, that there was no distinction of colour in

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

heaven. Therefore it is reasonable to believe, that
the soul of this here black, is as white as my own,
or even Major Dunwoodie's.”

“Be sure he be,” cried Cæsar, a little tartly,
who had received a wonderful stimulus by tasting
the drop of Mrs. Flanagan.

“Its a good sowl that the major is, any way,”
returned the washerwoman, “and a kind sowl—
aye, and a brave sowl too; and you'll say all that
yeerself, sargeant, I'm thinking.”

“For the matter of that,” returned the veteran,
“there is one above even Washington, to
judge of souls; but this I will say, that Major
Dunwoodie is a gentleman who never says, go,
boys—but always says, come, boys; and if a poor
fellow is in want of a spur or a martingale, and
the leather-wack is gone, there is never wanting
the real silver to make up the loss, and that from
his own pocket too.”

“Why, then, are you here idle, when all that
he holds most dear are in danger,” cried a voice
with startling abruptness; “mount, mount, and
follow your captain—arm and mount, and that
instantly, or you will be too late.”

This unexpected interruption, produced an instantaneous
confusion amongst the tiplers. Cæsar
fled instinctively into the fire-place, where he
maintained his position in defiance of a heat that
would have roasted a white man. Sergeant Hollister
turned promptly on his heel, and seizing his
sabre, the steel was glittering in the fire-light, in
the twinkling of an eye; but perceiving the
intruder to be the pedlar, who stood near the
open door that led to the stoop in the rear, he
began to fall back towards the position of the
black, with a kind of military intuition which
taught him to concentrate his forces. Betty alone
stood her ground by the side of the temporary

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

table. Replenishing the mug with a large addition
of the article known to the soldiery by the
name of “choke dog,” she held it towards the
pedlar. The eyes of the washerwoman had for
some time been swimming with love and liquor,
and turning them good naturedly on Birch, she
cried—

“Faith, but yee'r welcome, Mister Pidlar, or
Mister Birch, or Mister Beelzeboob, or what's
yee'r name. Yee'r an honest divil, any way, and
I'm hoping that you found the pittlicoats convanient—
come forward, dear, and fale the fire; Sergeant
Hollister won't be hurting you for the fear
of an ill turn you may be doing him hereafter—
will yee, Sargeant, dear.”

“Depart, ungodly man,” cried the veteran,
edging still nearer to Cæsar, but lifting his legs
alternately as they scorched with the heat, “depart
in peace. There is none here for thy service,
and you seek the woman in vain. There is
a tender mercy that will save her from thy talons.”
The sergeant ceased to utter aloud, but the
motion of his lips continued, and a few scattering
words of prayer were alone to be heard.

The brain of the washerwoman was in such a
state of confusion, that she did not clearly comprehend
the meaning of her lover, but a new idea
struck her imagination, and she broke forth—

“If it's me the man seeks, where's the matter,
pray—am I not a widow'd body and my own property?
And you talk of tinderness, Sargeant,
but it's little I see of it, any way—who knows but
Mr. Beelzeboob here is free to spake his mind—
I'm sure it is willing to hear that I am.”

“Woman,” said the pedlar, “be silent; and
you, foolish man, mount—arm and mount, and
flee to the rescue of your officer, if you are worthy
of the cause in which you serve, and would

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

not disgrace the coat that you wear.” The feelings
of the pedlar communicated to his manner
the power of eloquence, and he vanished from the
sight of the bewildered trio, with a rapidity that
left them uncertain whither he had fled.

Oh hearing the voice of an old friend, Cæsar
emerged from his quarters, with a skin that was
glistening with moisture, and fearlessly advanced
to where Betty stood in a maze of intellectual
confusion.

“I wish a Harvey stop,” said the black; “if he
ride down a road, I should like to go along;—I
don't tink Johnny Birch hurt his own son.”

“Poor ignorant wretch!” exclaimed the veteran,
recovering his voice with a long drawn
breath; “think you that figure was of flesh and
blood?”

“Harvey an't a berry fleshy,” replied the black,
“but he berry clebber man.”

“Pooh! sargeant dear,” exclaimed the washerwoman,
“talk rason for once, and mind what
the knowing one tells yee; call out the boys, and
ride a bit after Captain Jack,—rimimber darling,
that he told you the day, to be in readiness to
mount at a moment's warning.”

“Ay, but not at a summons from the foul fiend.
Let but Captain Lawton, or Lieutenant Mason, or
Cornet Skipwith say the word,” cried the veteran,
“and who is quicker in the saddle than I am?”

“Well sargeant, how often is it that yee've
boasted to myself, that the corps was'nt a bit
afeard to face the divil.”

“No more be we, in battle array, and by day-light;
but it's fool hardy and irreverent to tempt
Satan, and on such a night as this; listen how the
wind whistles through the trees, and hark! there
is the howlings of evil spirits abroad.”

“I see him,” said Cæsar, opening his eyes to a

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

width that might have embraced more than an
ideal form.

“Where?” interrupted the sergeant, again instinctively
laying his hand on the hilt of his sabre.

“No—no,” said the black, “I see a Johnny
Birch come out of he grave—Johnny walk afore
he bury'd.”

“Ah! then he must have led an evil life indeed,”
said Hollister; “the blessed in spirit lie
quiet until the general muster at the last day, but
wickedness disturbs the soul in this life as well as
in that which is to come.”

“And what is to come of Captain Jack?” cried
Betty angrily; “is it yee'r orders that yee won't
mind, nor a warning given? I'll jist git my cart
and ride down and tell him that you are afeard of
a dead man and Beelzeboob; and it is'nt succour
he may be expicting from you?—I wonder who'll
be the orderly of the troop the morrow then?—his
name won't be Hollister, any way.”

“Nay, Betty, nay,” said the sergeant, laying
his hand on her shoulder, “if there must be riding
to-night, let it be by him whose duty it is to call
out the men and set an example.—The Lord have
mercy, and send us enemies of flesh and blood.”

Another glass confirmed the veteran in a resolution
that was only excited by a dread of his
Captain's displeasure, and he proceeded to summon
the dozen men who had been left under his
command. The boy arriving with the ring,
Cæsar placed it carefully in the pocket of his
waistcoat next his heart, and mounting, shut his
eyes, seized his charger by the mane, and continued
in a state of comparative insensibility, until
the animal stopped at the door of the warm
stable, whence he had started.

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

The movements of the dragoons being timed
to the order of a march, were much slower, and
were made with a watchfulness that was intended
to guard against surprise from the evil one himself.

CHAPTER VI.

“Be not your tongue thy own shame's orator;
Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty;
Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger.”
Comedy of Errors.

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

The situation of the party in Mr. Wharton's
dwelling, was sufficiently awkward during the
short hour of Cæsar's absence; for such was the
astonishing rapidity displayed by his courser, that
the four miles of road was gone over, and the
events we have recorded, had occurred, somewhat
within that period of time. Of course the gentlemen
strove to make the irksome moments fly
as swiftly as possible; but premeditated happiness
is certainly of the least joyous kind. The
bride and bridegroom, from a variety of reasons,
are privileged to be dull, and but few of their
friends seemed disposed, on the present occasion,
to dishonour their example. The English Colonel
exhibited a proper portion of uneasiness at
this unexpected interruption to his felicity, and
sat with a varying countenance by the side of Sarah,
who seemed to be profiting by the delay, to
gather fortitude for the solemn ceremony. In
the midst of this embarrassing silence, Dr. Sitgreaves
addressed himself to Miss Peyton, by
whose side he had contrived to procure a chair.

“Marriage, Madam, is pronounced to be honourable
in the sight of God and man; and it may
be said to be reduced in the present age to the
laws of nature and reason. The ancients, in

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

sanctioning polygamy, lost sight of the provisions of
nature, and condemned thousands to misery; but
with the increase of science, have grown the wise
ordinances of society, which ordain that man
should be the husband of but one woman.”

Wellmere glanced a fierce expression of disgust
at the surgeon, that indicated his sense of the
tediousness of the other's remarks; while the
spinster, with a slight trembling at touching on
forbidden subjects, replied with an extremely
dignified inclination of her body—

“I had thought, sir, that we were indebted to
the christian religion for our morals on this subject.”

“True, Madam,” replied the operator, “it is
somewhere provided in the prescriptions of the
apostles, that the sexes should henceforth be on
an equality in this respect. But in what degree
could polygamy affect holiness of life? Certainly
it was a scientific arrangement of Paul, who was
much of a scholar, and probably had frequent conferences
with Luke, whom we all know to have
been bred to the practice of medicine, on this
important subject.”

To this profound discussion, the spinster made
no other reply, than another bend of her body,
that would have struck an observant man dumb;
but Captain Lawton, placing the point of his
sheathed sabre on the floor, folded his hands
across the hilt, and leaning his chin thereon, threw
singular glances with his searching eyes, alternately
from the surgeon to the bridegroom.

“Yet this practice still prevails,” said the
trooper; “and in those very countries where it
was first abolished by the christian code. Pray,
Colonel Wellmere, in what manner is bigamy
punished in England?”

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

Thus addressed, the bridegroom raised his eyes
to the countenance of the other, but they quickly
sunk again under the prying look they encountered;
and an effort banished the tremor from his
lip, and restored some of the colour to his cheek,
as he replied—

“Death!—as such an offence merits.”

“Death and dissection,” continued the operator;
“it is seldom that the law loses sight of eventual
utility in a malefactor. Bigamy in a man is
certainly a most heinous offence.”

“More so, think you, than celibacy?” asked
Lawton, a little archly.

“Even so,” returned the surgeon with undisturbed
simplicity; “he who remains in a single
state, may devote his life to science and the extension
of knowledge, if not of his species; but
the wretch who profits by the constitutional tendency
of the female sex to credulity and tenderness,
incurs all the wickedness of a positive sin,
heightened by the baseness of deception in its execution.”

“Really, sir, the ladies are infinitely obliged
to you, for attributing folly to them as part of their
nature.”

“Captain Lawton, in man the animal is more
nobly formed than in woman. The nerves are
endowed with less sensibility—the whole frame is
less pliable and yielding; is it, therefore, surprising,
that a tendency to rely on the faith of her
partner, is more natural to woman than to the
other sex?”

Wellmere, unable at this moment to listen
with any degree of patience to the dialogue, sprung
from his seat, and paced the floor in disorder.
Pitying his situation, the reverend gentleman, who,
in his robes, was patiently awaiting the return of
Cæsar, changed the discourse, and a few minutes

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

brought the black himself. The billet was handed
to Dr. Sitgreaves; for Miss Peyton had expressly
enjoined Cæsar, not to implicate her in any manner
in the errand on which he was despatched.
The note contained a summary statement of the
several subjects of the surgeon's directions, and
referred him to the black for the ring; it was instantly
demanded, and promptly delivered. A
transient look of melancholy clouded the brow
of the operator as he stood a moment, and gazed
silently on the bauble; nor did he remember the
place or the occasion, while he soliloquized as follows:

“Poor Anna! gay as innocence and youth could
make you, was thy heart when this cincture was
formed to grace thy nuptials; but ere the hour
had come, God had taken you to himself. Years
have passed, my sister, but never have I forgotten
the companion of my infancy;” he advanced to
Sarah, and, unconscious of observation, placing
the ring on her finger, continued, “she for whom
it was intended, has long been in her grave, and
the youth who bestowed the gift, soon followed
her sainted spirit; take it, Madam, and God grant
that it may be an instrument in making you as
happy as you deserve to be.”

Sarah felt an unaccountable chill at her heart,
as this burst of feeling escaped from the surgeon;
but Wellmere offering his hand, she was led before
the divine, and the ceremony began. The
first words of this imposing office, produced a
dead stillness in the apartment; and the minister
of God proceeded to the solemn exhortation, and
witnessed the plighted troth of the parties, when
the investiture of the ring was to follow. It had
been left, from inadvertency, and the agitation of
the moment, where Sitgreaves had placed it;—a
slight interruption was occasioned by the

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

circumstance, and the clergyman was about to proceed,
when a figure glided into the midst of the party,
that at once put a stop to the ceremony.—It was
the pedlar:—his sunken and cowering eye no longer
avoided the look of others, but glared wildly
around him, and his whole frame was agitated
by an exertion that had shaken his iron nerves.
But all these emotions passed away like shadows
from a fleeting cloud, and assuming a look of deep
humility and habitual respect, he turned to the
bridegroom, and bowing low, said—

“Can Colonel Wellmere waste the precious
moments here, when his wife has crossed the
ocean to meet him? The nights are long, and
the moon bright;—a few hours riding would take
him to the city.”

Aghast at the suddenness of this extraordinary
address, Wellmere for a moment lost the command
of his faculties. To Sarah, the countenance of
Birch, wild and agitated as it was, produced no
terror; but the instant she recovered from the
surprise of his interruption, she turned her anxious
gaze on the features of the man to whom she
had just pledged herself for life. They afforded the
most terrible confirmation of all that the pedlar affirmed;
the room whirled around with her, and she
fell lifeless into the arms of her aunt. There is
an instinctive delicacy in woman, that for a time
seems to conquer all other emotions however
powerful, and through its impulse, the insensible
bride was immediately conveyed from sight by her
friends, and the parlour was deserted to the wondering
group of men.

The confusion of the fall of Sarah, enabled
the pedlar to retreat with a rapidity that would
have baffled pursuit, had any been attempted, and
Wellmere stood with all eyes fixed on him in
ominous silence.

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

“ 'Tis false—'tis false as hell!” he cried, striking
his hand to his forehead. “I have ever denied
her claim; nor will the laws of my country compel
me to acknowledge it.”

“But will not conscience, and the laws of
God?” asked Lawton.

Before Wellmere could reply, Singleton, who
had hitherto been supported by his servant, moved
into the center of the circle, and with cheeks
glowing with animation, and eyes that flashed fire,
exclaimed—

“Thus is it ever with your nation, proud Englishman;
your boasted honour, where is it? obligatory
only among yourselves,—but have a care,”
striking the hilt of his sabre, “each daughter of
America has a claim upon the protection of her
sons, and there are none so helpless, but a countryman
can be found to avenge her injuries, or redress
her wrongs.”

“ 'Tis well, sir,” said Wellmere, haughtily, and
retreating towards the door—“your situation protects
you now: but a time may come—”

He had reached the entry, when a slight tap on
his shoulder caused him to turn his head;—it was
Captain Lawton—who, with a smile of peculiar
meaning, beckoned to him to follow. The state
of Wellmere's mind was such, that he would gladly
have gone any where to avoid the gaze of horror
and detestation that glared from every eye he
met. They reached the stables before the trooper
spoke, when he cried aloud—

“Bring out Roanoke.”

His man appeared with the steed caparisoned
as when ready for its master; and Lawton. coolly
throwing the bridle on the neck of the animal,
took his pistols from the holsters, and continued,
“You said truly, Colonel Wellmere, when you
pronounced George Singleton unfit for combat—

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

but here are weapons that have seen good
service before to-day—ay! and in honourable
hands sir. These were the pistols of my father,
Colonel Wellmere; he used them with credit in
the wars with France, and gave them to me to
fight the battles of my country with. In what better
way can I serve her than in exterminating a
wretch who would have blasted one of her fairest
flowers?”

“This injurious treatment shall meet with its
reward,” cried the Englishman, seizing the offered
weapon eagerly, “and the blood lie on the
head of him who sought it.”

“Amen!” said Lawton; but hold, a moment,
sir. You are now free, and the passports of
Washington are in your pocket;—I give you the
re;—if I fall, there is a steed that will outstrip
pursuit; and I would advise you to retreat without
much delay, for even Archibald Sitgreaves would
fight in such a cause—nor will the guard above be
very apt to give quarters.”

“Are you ready?” asked Wellmere, guashing
his teeth with rage.

“Stand forward, Tom, with the lights;—fire!”

Wellmere fired, and the bullion flew from the
epaulette of the trooper in fifty pieces.

“Now then the turn is mine,” said Lawton deliberately,
and levelling his pistol.

“And mine!” shouted a voice, as the weapon
was struck from his hand; “can you find nothing
to do but to shoot at a man, as if he was a turkey
at a Christmas match? By all the devils in hell,
'tis the mad Virginian—fall on my boys, and take
him; this is a prize not hoped for.”

Unarmed and surprized as he was, Lawton's
presence of mind did not desert him: he felt he
was in the hands of those from whom he was to
expect no mercy; and as four of the skinners fell

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

upon him at once, he used his gigantic strength to
the utmost. Three of the band grasped him by
the neck and arms, with an intent to clog his efforts,
and pinion him with ropes. The first of these
he threw from him with a violence that sent him
against the building, where he lay for a moment
stunned with the blow. But the fourth seized
his legs, and unable to contend with such odds, the
trooper came to the earth, bringing with him both
of his assailants. The struggle on the ground was
short but terrific;—curses, and the most dreadful
imprecations were uttered by the skinners, who
in vain called on three more of their band that
were gazing on the combat in nerveless horror, to
assist in securing their prize. A difficulty of
breathing, from one of the combatants, was heard,
accompanied by the stifled moanings of a strangled
man; and directly one of the group arose on his
feet, shaking himself from the wild grasp of the
others. Both Wellmere and the servant of Lawton
had fled; the former to the stables, and the
latter to give the alarm—and all was darkness.
The figure that stood erect, sprung into the saddle
of the unheeded charger—sparks of fire
from the armed feet of the horse, gave light
enough to discover the trooper dashing like the
wind towards the highway.

“By hell he's off!” cried the leader, hoarse
from rage and exhaustion; “fire!—bring him
down—fire, I say, or you'll be too late.”

The order was obeyed, and one moment of awful
suspense followed, in the vain hope of hearing
the huge frame of Lawton tumbling from his steed.

“He'd never fall, if you had killed him,” muttered
one; “I've known them Virg nians sit their
horses with two and three balls through them; ay,
even after they were dead.”

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

A freshening of the blast, wafted the tread of a
horse down the valley, which, by its speed, gave
assurance of a rider governing its motion.

“Them trained horses always stop when the
rider falls,” observed one of the gang.

“Then,” cried the leader, striking his musket
on the ground in a rage, “the fellow is safe!—
to your business at once. A short half hour will
bring down that canting sergeant and the guard
upon us. 'Tis lucky if the guns don't turn them
out. Quick, to your posts, and fire the house in
the chambers—smoking ruins are good to cover
evil deeds.”

“What is to be done with this lump of earth?”
cried another, pushing the body that yet lay insensible,
where the grasp of Lawton had deprived it
of animation, “a little rubbing would bring him
too.”

“Let him lie,” said the leader fiercely; “had
he been half a man, that dragooning rascal would
have been in my power;—enter the house, I say,
and fire the chambers—we can't go amiss here;—
there is plate and money enough to make you all
gentlemen—yes, and revenge too.”

The idea of silver in any way was not to be
resisted; and, leaving their companion, who began
to show faint signs of life, they rushed tumultuously
towards the dwelling. Wellmere availed
himself of the opportunity, and stealing from the
stable with his own charger, was able to gain the
highway unnoticed. For an instant he hesitated,
whether to ride towards the point where he knew
a guard was stationed, and endeavour to rescue
the family, or, profiting by his liberty, and the exchange
that had been effected by the divine, to
seek the royal army. Shame, and the consciousness
of guilt, determined him to take the latter
course, and he rode towards New-York, stung
with the reflection of his own baseness, and

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

harrassed with the apprehension of meeting with an
enraged woman, that he had married during his
late visit to England, but whose claims, so soon as
his passion was sated, he had resolved never
willingly to admit. In the tumult and agitation of
the moment, the retreat of Lawton and Wellmere
was but little noticed, the condition of Mr.
Wharton, and the exhaustion that succeeded
the excitement of George Singleton, demanding
the care and consolation of both the surgeon
and the divine. The report of the fire-arms first
roused the family to the sense of a new danger,
and but a minute elapsed before the leader and
one more of the gang entered the room.

“Surrender, you servants of King George,”
shouted the leader, presenting his musket to
the breast of Sitgreaves, “or I will let a little of
your tory blood from your veins.”

“Gently—gently, my friend,” said the surgeon;
“you are doubtless more expert in inflicting
wounds than in healing them; the weapon that
you hold so indiscreetly, is extremely dangerous
to animal life.”

“Yield, then, or take its contents,” exclaimed
the other.

“Why and wherefore should I yield?—I am a
practitioner of medicine, and a non-combatant.
The articles of capitulation must be arranged with
Captain John Lawton, though yielding I believe
is not a subject on which you will find him particularly
complying.”

The fellow had by this time taken such a survey
of the group, as convinced him that little
danger was to be apprehended from resistance,
and eager to seize his share of the plunder, he
dropped his musket, and was soon busy in arranging
divers articles of plate in bags, with the assistance
of one of his men, so that it would

[figure description] Page 086.[end figure description]

be in the most convenient situation to accompany
them in their retreat. The cottage now presented
a most singular spectacle;—the ladies were
gathered around Sarah, who yet continued insensible
in one of the rooms that had escaped the
notice of the marauders. Mr. Wharton sat in a
state of perfect imbecility, listening to, but not
profiting by, the words of comfort that fell from
the lips of the clergyman, who soon became too
much terrified with the scene to offer them. Singleton
was lying on a sofa, shaking with debility,
and inattentive to surrounding objects; while the
surgeon was administering restoratives, and looking
at the dressings, with a coolness that mocked the
tumult. Cæsar, and the attendants of Captain
Singleton, had retreated to the wood in the rear
of the cottage, and Katy Haynes was flying about
the building, busily employed in forming a bundle
of valuables, from which, with the most scrupulous
honesty, she rejected every article that was
not really and truly her own.

But to return to the party at the Four Corners.
When the veteran had got his men mounted and
under arms, a restless desire to participate in the
glory and dangers of the expedition came over
the washerwoman. Whether she was impelled to
the undertaking by a dread of remaining alone,
or a wish to hasten in person to the relief of
her favourite, we will not venture to assert;
but, as Hollister was unwillingly, giving the
orders to wheel and march, the voice of Betty
was heard exclaiming—

“Stop a bit, sargeant dear, till two of the boys
git out the cart, and I'll jist ride wid yee—'tis like
there'll be wounded, and it will be mighty convanient
to bring them home in.”

Although inwardly much pleased with any cause
of delay to a service that he so little relished,

[figure description] Page 087.[end figure description]

Hollister affected some displeasure at the detention,
and replied---

“Nothing but a cannon ball can take one of my
lads from his charger, and it's not very likely that
we shall have as fair fighting as cannon and musketry,
in a business of the evil one's inventing;—
so Elizabeth, you may go if you will—but the cart
will not be wanting.”

“Now sargeant, dear, you lie any way,” said
Betty, who was somewhat unduly governed by her
potations; “and wasn't Captain Singleton shot off
his horse but tin days gone by?—ay, and Captain
Jack himself too; and didn't he lie on the ground
face uppermost and back downwards, looking grim?
and didn't the boys tink him dead, and turn and
lave the rig'lars the day?”

“You lie back again,” cried the sergeant
fiercely, “and so does any one, who says that we
didn't gain the day.”

“For a bit or so—only I mane for a bit or so,”
said the washerwoman; “but Major Dunwoodie
turn'd you, and so you lick'd the rig'lars. But the
Captain it was that fell, and I'm thinking that
there's no better rider going; so, sargeant, it's the
cart that will be convanient. Here, two of you,
jist hitch the mare to the tills, and it's no whiskey
that you'll be wanting the morrow; and put the
piece of Jinny's hide under the pad—the baste is
never the better for the rough ways of the county
Westchester.” The consent of the sergeant being
obtained, the equipage of Mrs. Flanagan was
soon in readiness to receive its burthen.

“As it is quite uncertain whether we shall be
attacked in front or rear,” said Hollister, “five of
you shall march in advance, and the remainder
shall cover our retreat towards the barrack, should
we be pressed. 'Tis an awful moment to a man
of little learning, Elizabeth, to command in such

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

a service; for my part, I wish devoutly that one
of the officers was here; but my trust is in the
Lord.”

“Pooh! man, away wid yee,” said the washerwoman,
who had got herself comfortably seated,
“the divil a bit of an inimy is there near—march
on hurry-skurry, and lit the mare trot, or it's but
little that Captain Jack will thank yee for the
help.”

“Although unlearned in matters of communicating
with spirits, or laying the dead, Mrs. Flanagan,”
said the veteran, “I have not served
through the old war, and five years in this, not to
know how to guard the baggage.—Doesn't Washington
always cover the baggage? I am not to be
told my duty by a camp follower. Fall in as you
are ordered, and dress.”

“Well, march, any way,” cried the impatient
washerwoman; “the black is there already, and it's
tardy the Captain will think yee.”

“Are you sure that it was a real black man that
brought the order?” said the sergeant, dropping
in between the platoons, where he could converse
with Betty, and was equally at hand to lead either
way.

“Nay,” said the washerwoman, “and I'm sure
of nothing, dear. But why don't the boys prick
their horses, and jog a trot; the mare is mighty
uneasy, and it's no warm in this cursed valley,
riding as much like a funeral party as old rags is
to continental.”

“Fairly and softly, aye, and prudently, Mrs.
Flanagan,” said the veteran; “it's not rashness
that makes the good officer. If it is a spirit that
we have to encounter, it's more than likely that
he'll make his attack by surprise;—horse are not
very powerful in the dark, and I have a character
to lose, good woman.”

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