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The reader has perhaps gathered, from the interview
between Greyslaer and Alida last described,
that the characters of both have undergone no
slight change since the period when they were first
introduced into our story: that Max, as the successful
wooer and the travelled soldier who had seen
the world, is now a somewhat different being from
the visionary student, the fond-dreaming and willow-wearing
lover, whose romantic musings have
heretofore, perhaps, called out, at times, a pitying
smile from the reader: that Alida, the once haughty
empress of his heart, whose pride, though utterly
removed from ordinary selfishness, had still a species
of self-idolatry as its basis, had been not less
affected in her disposition by the softening influences
of love and sorrow, and that patient realization
of hope-deferred which tameth alike the heart of
man or woman. Yet these changes are merely
those which time and circumstance will work in all
of us, and Max and Alida are still the same in every
essential of character.

The change in Greyslaer is one that all men

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more or less undergo as the sobering influence of
riper years steals over them, and their minds are
brought more in contact with the practical things of
life; when, having tested their powers in the world
of action, the frame of the mind becomes, as it were,
more closely knit and sinewy, and seeks objects to
grapple with more substantial than the shadowy
creations of the ideal world in which erst they
dwelt. Now, while the success which had hitherto
crowned the early career of Max Greyslaer alike in
love and arms, is one of the most active elements
in rapidly effecting this change from wild, visionary
youth, to dignified, consummate manhood, the emotions
and cares of Alida were precisely those which
would dash the Amazonian spirit and humble the
arrogance of self-sustainment in a proud and beautiful
woman, once the petted inmate of a bright and
happy home, and intrenched in all the advantages
that family and station could confer.

The half-insane idea of righting in person the
wrongs which she had received at the hands of
Bradshawe, had been long since dispelled by the
realization of more irremediable sorrows in the
death of her nearest relations; and as her woman's
heart awoke for the first time to the graces of woman's
tenderness, and her spirit grew more and more
feminine as it learned to lean upon another, she
even shuddered at remembering the strange fantasy
of revenge that was the darling dream of her girlhood.
It is true, that in the hour of her betrothal
to Greyslaer she had listened with the kindling delight
of some stern heroine of romantic story to the
deep-breathed vengeance of her lover against the
man who had plotted her ruin. But as time wore
on, and the fulfilment of the vow grew less probable
from the prolonged exile of Bradshawe, which might
ultimately result in total banishment from his native

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land; and as Max, who was soon afterward called
away by his military duties to a distant region,
grew more and more dear to her in absence, she
gradually learned to shrink as painfully from the
idea of a deadly personal encounter between him
and Bradshawe, as she lately had from her own unfeminine
dream of vengeance.

Nor had the views of Greyslaer, though affected
by different causes from those which swayed Alida,
altered less in this respect. Max, though his wellordered
mind was in the main governed by high
religious principle, was certainly not in advance of
those opinions of his day which held a fairly-fought
duel as no very serious offence against Heaven; and
indeed he had betrayed, upon more than one occasion,
while serving with the hot-headed spirits of the
South, that no scruple of early education interfered
to prevent him from calling an offender to account
after the most punctilious fashion of the times.
But, since he had mingled more among men of the
world, he had learned enough of its customs to know
that Bradshawe was rather a subject for the punishment
of the criminal laws than for the chastisement
of a gentleman's sword; and that, while wiping away
an insult with blood was a venial offence according
to the fantastic code to which, as a military man,
he was now subject, to spill the same blood in cutting
off a felon was unofficer-like in deed, as it was
unchristian-like in spirit to thirst after it. These
sentiments, which his camp associations had gradually,
and, almost unknowingly to himself, infused
into the young soldier, were more than redeemed
from trivial-mindedness by those more extended
views of action which, growing up at the same time
with them, merged the recollection of personal
grievances in the public wrongs, to whose redress
his sword was already devoted.

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The scenes he was now about revisiting served
to recall the distempered counsels of former times;
when, after his betrothal to Alida, he had meditated
throwing up his commission, and dogging Bradshawe
with the footsteps of an avenger until the
death of one of them were wrought; and when his
being ordered unexpectedly upon dangerous duty
to a remote district happily interposed the point of
honour as a stay to such mad procedure. But these
scenes, with their attendant associations, revived
no feeling in Max's bosom nearer akin to personal
hostility toward Bradshawe than any earnest and
honest mind might entertain toward a low-lived and
desperate adventurer, whose mischievous career
would be shortened with benefit to the community.
If, then, either the fortune of war or a higher Providence
should seem at any time to single out him
as the appointed instrument of Bradshawe's punishment,
let it bring no reproach to the chivalrous nature
of Greyslaer if he should fulfil his stern office
with the methodical coldness of the mere soldier.

The order which Captain De Roos had received
to hurry forward with his comrades was prompted
by intelligence which had been received at Fort
Dayton of a secret movement among the disaffected
in the neighbourhood. The rapid advance of Barry
St. Leger into the Valley of the Mohawk, together
with his formidable investure of Fort Stanwix, while
far and wide it called out the valour and activity of
the patriots to resist the invasion, was viewed with
very opposite feelings by the remains of the royalist
party which were still scattered here and there
throughout Tryon county. These disaffected families,
taught, by the events which followed Schuyler's
march upon Johnstown in the earlier days of
the war, that their lives were held by rather a precarious
tenure, and that both their property and

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their personal safety depended upon their abstaining
from all political agitation, hesitated long to venture
upon any new overt acts of treason.

The Johnsons and their refugee adherents, however,
had not, in the mean time, been idle in scattering
the proclamations of the British ministry, and
attempting, by every means in their power, to keep
up an intimate connexion with their political friends
who were within the American lines. The Provincial
government was fully aware of the existence of
these intrigues, which were so daringly set on foot
and indefatigably followed up by the Tories; and
a military force, consisting of the first New-York
regiment and other troops, had at an early day been
posted at Fort Dayton on the Mohawk, in order to
overawe the loyalists and prevent any sudden rising
among them.

So bold a Tory as Walter Bradshawe, however,
was not to be paralyzed in his plans by such impediments
to their success. His emissary, Valtmeyer,
whom we have already recognised under his disguise
at the roadside inn, had appeared among his
old haunts on the very day that St. Leger sat down
before Fort Stanwix; and, by the aid of letters and
vouchers both from Bradshawe and his superiors,
had successfully busied himself in leaguing the
Tories together for sudden and concerted action.
But, before openly committing themselves in arms,
it was deemed necessary that a meeting should be
held at the house of one of their number for the purposes
of general consultation.

Within a few miles of Fort Dayton resided a Mr.
Schoonmacker, a disaffected gentleman, who, previously
to the breaking out of the war, had been in
his majesty's commission of the peace. This individual,
a man of extensive means and influential
connexions, had of late exerted himself effectually

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in rekindling the spirits and hopes of his party in
the neighbourhood. The address with which he
managed his intrigues for a long time preserved
him from all suspicion of taking an active part in
the affairs of the times, though his political tenets
were well known in the country round. Grown
rash by long impunity, however, or rather, perhaps,
incited by the blustering proclamations with which
St. Leger flooded the country to give confidence to
the king's friends, Schoonmacker now ventured to
commit himself completely by offering his house
for the accommodation of the clandestine meeting.
His generous zeal was warmly praised by the loyalists,
already in arms under St. Leger; and their
commander promised that an officer of the crown
should be present at the assemblage to represent
his own views, and aid and encourage Schoonmacker's
friends in their undertaking. Walter Bradshawe,
who was now in command of one of the
companies of refugees enrolled with the forces that
beleaguered Fort Stanwix, eagerly voluntered upon
this perilous agency, stipulating only that a small
detachment should accompany him to the place of
rendezvous—in order to cut his way back to the
besieging army in case the projected rising should
prove a failure.

Taking with him a dozen soldiers and the like
number of Indians, the Tory captain withdrew from
the lines of Fort Stanwix and approached the rendezvous
of the conspirators upon the appointed
evening. His white followers, though they had
been mustered in St. Leger's army as regular soldiers,
consisted chiefly of those wild border characters
who, throughout the war, seem to have fought
indifferently upon either side, as the hope of booty
or the dictates of private vengeance prompted them
to adopt a part in the quarrel. One of these last,

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a man whose powerful frame seemed of yet more
gigantic proportions, clad as he was in the loose
hunting-shirt of the border, and armed to the teeth
with knife and tomahawk, two brace of pistols, and
a double-barrelled fusee, presented the appearance
of a walking armory as he strode along in earnest
conversation with his leader.

“Well, Valtmeyer,” said Bradshawe, as they approached
their destination, “I do not order you
upon this duty, which I think one of my light-armed
Indians could perform better, perhaps, than yourself;
but, if you choose to reconnoitre the fort
while we are engaged in counsel, you have full liberty
to do so, only—”

But, before he could add the precautions he
was about to utter, Valtmeyer, simply exclaiming
“Enough!” turned shortly into an adjacent thicket,
where the sound of his footsteps upon the rustling
leaves was soon lost to the ear of his officer.

Though the hour was late, yet the party collected
at Schoonmacker's were still seated at table when
Bradshawe, having stationed his sentries, prepared
to join them. The carousing royalists had evidently
drunk deep during the evening. The health
of “The King” was pledged again and again; and
their favourite toast of “Confusion to the Rebels”
was floating upon a bumper near each one's lips
when Bradshawe entered the apartment.

“You are loud in your mirth, gentlemen,” cried
the Tory officer, returning their vociferous greeting
with some sternness, and impatiently waving from
him the glass that was eagerly proffered by more
than one of the conspirators. “Do I see all of our
friends, Mr. Schoonmacker, or have these loyal gentlemen
brought some retainers with them?” added
Bradshawe, with more blandness, bowing at the
same time politely to three or four of the company,

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as he recognised them individually either as influential
characters well known in the county, or as
old personal acquaintances of his own. “I was told,
Major MacDonald,” continued he, turning to a noble-looking,
gray-headed man of fifty, “I was told
that you, at least, could bring some twenty-five or
thirty of your friends and dependants to strengthen
our battalion of Royal Rangers.”

“Twenty-six, sir, is the number of followers
which I have promised to add to the royal levies;
but, in lending my poor means to aid the cause of the
king, I was not aware that my recruits were to be
mustered under the command of a stranger; nor
did I understand from General St. Leger that we
were to serve in the Rangers. There are certain
forms, young sir, to be observed in such proceedings
as those in which we are engaged; and it may be
well for you to produce certain missives, with which
you are doubtless furnished, before we proceed directly
to business.”

Bradshawe—who, by-the-by, was hardly of an
age to be addressed as “young sir” without some offence
to his dignity—bit his lip while observing the
coolness with which the worthy major knocked the
ashes from his segar while tranquilly thus delivering
himself. He, however, repressed the insolent language
which rose to his lips in reply, and, placing
his hand in his bosom, contented himself with flinging
contemptuously upon the table a bundle of papers
which he drew forth, exclaiming, at the same
time,

“You will find there my warrant, gentlemen, for
busying myself in these matters.”

As he spoke he threw himself into a chair and
poured out a glass of wine, with whose hue and flavour
he tried to occupy his attention for the moment;
but he could not conceal that he was somewhat

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nettled by the coolness with which the veteran turned
over and examined the documents one after another,
passing the captain's commission of Bradshawe,
with the other papers, successively to those who sat
near him. Bradshawe moved uneasily in his chair
as this examination, which seemed to be needlessly
minute and protracted, was going forward; and it
is impossible to say what might have been the result
of so severely testing the patience of his restless
and overbearing mind, if the phlegmatic investigation
of the worthy major had not been interrupted
by a noisy burst of merriment from another part of
the house, which instantly called the partisan captain
to his feet.

“For God's sake, Mr. Schoonmacker, what means
this revelry? Do those sounds come from the rebels,
who lie near enough and in sufficient force to
crush us in a moment, or is it our own friends who
play the conspirator after such a fashion? Who
the dev—”

“Your zeal is too violent—pardon me, my worthy
friend,” interrupted the amiable host. “The revellers
you hear are only the good country people whom
our friends have brought with them to honour my
poor house, and who are making themselves a little
merry over a barrel of beer in the kitchen. We
could not, you know, Mr. Bradshawe,” he added, in
an insinuating, deprecatory tone, as the other raised
his eyebrows with a look of unpleased surprise,
“we could not but give them the means of drinking
the health of the king, and all are so well armed
that we dread no surprise from Colonel Weston.”

A shade of chagrin and vexation passed over the
haughty features of Bradshawe as he compared in
his mind more than one orderly and stern assemblage
of the Whigs, to which he had managed to
gain access, with the carousing crew with whom

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he had now to deal. “The fools, too!” he muttered,
“sending my countrymen to drink with their
servants! Do they think that is the way to confirm
the loyalty of American yeomen?” Then addressing
himself to the company with that urbane
and candid air which he knew so well how to assume,
and by which he had often profited when before
a jury in other days, he said, “I was too hasty,
gentlemen; but I was afraid, from the noise I heard,
that a body of Indians that I have brought with me
had somehow got access to liquor; and, to prevent
the possibility of so dangerous a circumstance, I
think we had better at once call our friends together,
and let the proclamation of General St. Leger, with
the accompanying letter from Sir John Johnson,
both of which lie before you, be read aloud for the
benefit of all.”

The suggestion, which could not but have weight
with all parties, was instantly adopted. A meeting
was soon organized by calling Major MacDonald to
the chair and appointing Mr. Schoonmacker secretary;
and the more humble adherents of the royal
cause being summoned from the other parts of the
house, the proclamation and letter were duly read
by the latter.

The appeal of Sir John to the timid and disaffected
inhabitants of Tryon county to follow his
example, and, abandoning their present neutral position,
take up arms for their lawful sovereign, was
received with warm approbation. Nor was there
less enthusiasm upon hearing the proclamation from
St. Leger read, inviting all true subjects of the king,
and all violators of the laws, who hoped pardon for
past offences from his majesty's goodness, to come
and enroll themselves with his army now before
Fort Stanwix. Bradshawe then moved a resolution,
beginning with the customary preamble, “At

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a meeting of the loyal gentry and yeomanry of
Tryon county, convened,” &c., and by way of
clinching matters while they seemed in such capital
train, he mounted a chair and commenced haranguing
the assemblage, urging the importance of immediate
action in the cause to which every man
present had now fully committed himself.

His adroit, and, withal, impassioned eloquence,
was addressed chiefly to the common people; and
the generous boldness with which he committed his
and their property to the chances of a civil war, in
which either had but little or nothing to lose, elicited
their rapturous admiration; particularly when he set
forth, in glowing terms, how much they were to expect
from the exhaustless bounty of their sovereign.
In the midst of his harangue, however, and while
all parties were warmed up to the highest pitch of
loyal enthusiasm, he met with an interruption, the
cause of which may be best explained by looking
back a few pages in our narrative.

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