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My father's health did not improve. The surgeon gave
me small hopes of his recovery. It was to be feared that
the wound would eventually prove mortal.

He himself considered his death as inevitable. He
looked forward to the event with composure and resignation.
He repeatedly assured me that he had long been
wearied with his life; and that although the clouds which
had rendered his life-time gloomy and tempestuous were
now rolling away, and his evening was cheered with a
glowing and tranquil sunset, yet he felt no repugnance,
that his life had reached its close. He saw himself surrounded
by his children — he saw that they were happy;
and more than all, he saw and felt that the country of
his love was at last upon the verge of independence and
success.

Again and again he assured me that he now welcomed
with gratitude the sweet repose of death. He was animated,
despite his errors, by the true and heartfelt faith of
a Christian, and he revelled in the sweet conviction that
he should one day meet his children in another and a
happier world.

As the army were soon to go into winter quarters, and
as my father's health experienced a temporary re-establishment,
sufficient, in the opinions of the physicians,
to enable him to undergo a journey; I succeeded in obtaining
leave of absence for some months. Lackland
accepted an invitation to my abode, and together our
whole party set out for “Morton's Hope.”

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We reached that place, in due time, without further
adventures, and had the satisfaction of making more
comfortable arrangements for my father than I could
possibly have done at Saratoga.

It was but a few weeks after our arrival, at my old and
happy home, that I perceived indications of a growing
and a mutual attachment between my sister and my
friend Lackland.

A short time afterwards I received the agreeable communication
that the preliminaries had been satisfactorily
settled, and my own and my father's consent were now
all that was necessary.

It is needless to say that these were most joyfully
granted.

“I need not observe,” said Lackland, on concluding
his communication, “that I have no very brilliant establishment
to offer Neida.”

“Her education has hardly led her to form any extravagant
expectations,” I replied.

“However,” he resumed, “as I am prohibited from
serving any longer against your friends the rebels, I may
as well turn my attention to something else. Land is
cheap in your country. Why should not I squat as well
as our old friend Dummberg?”

“Very well,” said I, “I hope you will indeed remain
with us for the present; and I am certainly glad that our
present connexion, as well as the situation of your regiment,
makes it almost impossible for you to serve against
the cause in which I am so deeply interested. Although
we may be politically enemies, yet there is no reason why
we should not be friends and brothers. This, however,
could hardly be the case if our swords were actually turned
against each other.”

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“I promise you,” said Lackland, “that whether I am
exchanged or not, I shall serve no longer in this cause.—
Although an Englishman and an American can never
agree about the justice or the causes of this conflict, yet
my present situation renders it unpalatable to me to be
exchanging broken heads with my own relations. I had
always an abhorrence of family jars, and this civil war
of ours partakes too much of that character.”

“I am glad of your determination,” I replied, “but as
to the matter of squatting, I neither expect nor wish you
to expatriate yourself. No, my dear fellow, remain
where you are for the present; but, I assure you, you will
find in the sequel that my advice is correct.”

Here our conversation ended.

It remains for me now to inform my readers that my
father exacted one condition with regard to the projected
union between his daughter and Lackland. It accorded
with the determination already taken by the Englishman—
that his son-in-law should not again bear arms against
America.

As my father felt himself rapidly sinking, he expressed
a wish that our marriages should take place while he
was yet able to behold them.

Accordingly, a few days afterwards, at the same time
and in the presence of my father, Lackland was united
to my sister, and I to Mayflower Vane.

A few days afterwards, our parent breathed his last.
His end was tranquil, hopeful, and happy.

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