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The bold and decisive measures of the Council of Safety had
by this time begun to manifest themselves in results little anticipated
by the adherents of the royal cause in Vermont. The
latter, emboldened both by the presence of a powerful British
army on their borders, and the doubts and difficulties which, for
a while, were known to have embarrassed and rendered ineffectual
the deliberations of their opponents, had become so assured and
confident of an easy conquest, that in some sections they proceeded
openly in the work of enlistment, and in others pushed
forward their parties into the very heart of the interior, before
perceiving their error; while, by their representations at head-quarters,
they completely deceived Burgoyne and his advisers
respecting the true state of feeling that animated the bosoms of
the great mass of the people — a fact made abundantly evident,
not only by the subsequent confessions of that general, but by all
his operations at the time, and especially that of the short-sighted
expedition, which we have before shown him to have planned and
set afoot, under Peters, to the Connecticut River. It was no wonder,
therefore, that when they now suddenly discovered the whole
state in motion — armed men springing up in every glen, nook,
and corner of the Green Mountains, and concentrating to join
another no less unexpected, and no less formidable force, which
was understood to be rapidly advancing from New Hampshire —
it was no wonder they were taken wholly by surprise, and slunk
silently away to their retreats, or immediately fled to the British
army, whom they still neglected to undeceive.

It was about one week subsequent to the events last recited;
and the interim had been marked with little, as far as immediately
concerned the action of our story, and those of its personages to
whom we must now return — with very little to which pen can do
justice, except what the reader's imagination probably has already
anticipated; for though thrilling events may be described with a

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good degree of adequacy, there are yet certain states of highwrought
feeling that language can never but feebly portray. The
search for the lost maiden, on the eventful night of her capture
and escape, had been, as the reader will have inferred, as vain
and fruitless as it was agonizing to her lover, and anxious to all.
The renewal of the search next day, till afternoon, had been no
better rewarded. More force having then arrived, the tory encampment
was assailed, but found empty of occupants, who had, some
hours before, scattered and fled. Still unwilling to relinquish his
object, Woodburn, with a small party of his friends, continued his
efforts in wider ranges through the forest, which, on the third
morning, brought him to the cabin in which her most fearful
trials had occurred; when the dead wolf, the remnants of the
slain Indians, not yet wholly carried off by the foxes or returning
wolves, the guns, the torn and blood-stained earth, and, above all,
the white shreds of some part of female apparel, discolored and
scattered round the room, told a tale, that, in spite of the entreaties
of his sympathizing friends, who deemed the evidence not
yet wholly conclusive, drove the appalled lover, in a frenzy of
grief and horror, from the dreadful scene.

It was about a week, as we have said, after that night of adventure
and excitement. Three companies of the newly-enlisted
regiment of Rangers, embracing all the recruits yet raised on the
east side of the mountains, were paraded in the road before Coffin's
tavern, while their officers were standing listless on the grass
in front, and occasionally throwing inquiring glances along the
road to the east, as if awaiting some expected arrival from that
quarter. At length Woodburn, on whose brow rested an air of
gloomy sternness, advanced, and calling his sergeant and scoutmaster,
Dunning, to his side, in a low tone, imparted to him some
private order or suggestion; when the latter, beckoning from the
ranks his and the reader's old acquaintance, Bill Piper, who was
also a subaltern in the same company, the two laid aside their
guns and equipments, and proceeded leisurely down the road, the
way in which the attention of all seemed directed. After proceeding
about a quarter of a mile, they came to a turn in the
road, which, now becoming invisible from the tavern, led down a
long hill, and entered an extended piece of woods nearly another
quarter of a mile distant.

“Well,” said Dunning, here pausing and casting his eyes forward
to the woods, “they der don't seem to make their appearance
yet. I ditter think they must have halted there by the brook
to drink and rest a little; so we will stop at this point, where we

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can see both ways; and when the troops begin to show themselves,
we'll then give the signal.”

With this, they threw themselves down in the cool shade of a
tree by the way side, and, for a while, yielded themselves to that
listless, dreamy mood, which reclining in the shade, after exercise,
on a warm day, almost invariably induces.

“Dunning,” said Piper, at length rousing up a little, and drawing
from his pocket a well-filled leathern purse, which he carelessly
chinked against his upraised knee, by way of preliminary—
“Dunning, it is a mystery to me where all this stuff comes
from. Six weeks ago, it was thought there were scarcely a thousand
hard dollars, except what was in tory families, in all the
Grants. Now, there must be well on to that sum even in our own
company, every recruit having been paid his bounty and month's
advance pay, in silver or gold, on the spot. Where does it come
from?”

“From the sales of the der tory estates, of which they have
been making a clean sweep, you know,” replied the other.

“Yes, yes, we all know that, I suppose; but where do the purchasers
of these estates get the money to buy with?” rejoined
the former.

“I never ditter catechized them about it,” said the hunter,
evasively.

“Nor I,” remarked Piper; “but I have lately heard a curious
story about the matter. They say there has been a sort of homespun-looking
old fellow, that nobody seems to know, following the
commissioners of sales round, from place to place, with an old
horse and cart, seemingly loaded with wooden ware, or some such
kind of gear, for peddling; and that he has bid off a great part
of all the farms, and stock on them, which have been sold, paying
down for them on the spot in hard money, which they say he
carries about with him tied up in old stockings, and hid away in
his load of trumpery. Some mistrust he is a Jew; and some are
afraid he is a British agent, not only buying up farms, but also the
Council of Safety, who are also strangely full of money these
days.”

“That last would prove a rather ditter tough bargain for him
and his masters, I reckon,” responded the hunter, dryly.

“Yes, that is all nonsense, no doubt,” observed Piper. “But
still it is a mystery to my mind, how money, that a short time
ago was so scarce, should now all at once be so plenty; and that
was the reason I raised the question before you, who generally
know pretty near what is going on among our head men, and
who, I thought likely, could easily explain this secret.”

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“No,” said the other; “no, Bill; there might be der trouble
about that. When a state secret falls into my ears, it is not so
easy to get it out of my mouth. I've got an impediment in my
ditter speech, you know,” he added, with a slight twinkle of the
eye.

“Your mouth goes off well enough on some public matters, I
find,” remarked Piper, with an air fluctuating between a miff and
a laugh.

“Der yes, to say, for instance, that the decree to confiscate
and sell the tory estates was a ditter righteous one — has worked
like a charm — called out the rusty dollars from their hiding-places
thick as der bumblebees in June — ditter drove off the blue
devils from among the people, and raised a regiment of men in
less than three weeks!”

“Ah! and a fine regiment, too, it will be. I long to see it all
brought together, for I don't know a tenth of them — men or officers—
not even our colonel.”

“Herrick? Well, I can't der quite say I should know him
now; but he is a ditter go-ahead fellow, who loves the smell of
gunpowder nearly as well as Seth Warner himself, whose pupil
he is in the trade. We shall have the pleasure of seeing him in a
few minutes, probably, as Coffin told me he passed along here night
before last, on the way to Number Four, to come on with Stark.
That may be told without ditter mischief.”

“And so may another thing, perhaps, which I should like to
know, Dunning.”

“Der what is that, Bill?”

“Why, you know that Bart, the night after we discovered the
place where we supposed the girl was destroyed, disappeared, and
has not been here since. Where have they sent him, and what
after?”

“Piper, you are as brave as a lion, and as strong as a horse,
der doubtless; but your tongue may ditter need training, for all
that. Still, as you mean right, and will probably learn to bridle
that unruly member only by practice, I will, for once, put you to
the trial. Bart has gone a spy to the British camp. Though
Harry, in his despair, would for a while believe nothing but that
she was der dead, or worse, yet, as I and others, putting all
things together, hoped and reasoned ditter different, in part, and
thought she might not have been killed there, but retaken; and,
for fear of pursuit, hurried off directly to the British, he concluded
to despatch Bart to his friend Allen, of the Council, to take advice,
and then proceed, in some disguise or other, right into the

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lion's den — ascertain whether the girl was there — and, after
ditter learning what he could about the enemy's movements, return
with the news.”

“Well, I'll be chunked if the project wan't a bold one! But
if any creature on earth can carry it out, it is Bart; and he will,
unless they get word from this quarter that such a fellow is among
them. Ah! I now see the need of a close mouth on the subject,
and will keep one, thanking you kindly, Dunning, for your caution
and confidence.”

“It will be all right, I presume, Bill, now you perceive Bart's
neck may depend on your ditter discretion. But who have we
there?” added the speaker, pointing down the road towards the
woods.

While Dunning and Piper were thus engrossed in conversation,
two men, on foot, had emerged from the woods and approached
within a hundred yards, before attracting the attention of the former.
They were without coats, or in their shirt sleeves, as, in
common parlance, is the phrase for such undress; and, having
handkerchiefs tied round their heads, and carrying in their
hands rough sticks, picked up by the way-side, for canes, they presented
an appearance, as they leisurely came along up the
ascending road, with occasional glances back towards the woods,
that left Dunning and his companion wholly in doubt, while
attempting to decide who or what they were.

“Now, who knows,” said the wary hunter, “but they may be
der tory spies, hanging round the skirts of Stark's army, and
intending soon to be off cross-lots to the British, to report his progress.
I'll ditter banter them a little, at all hazards, before we
let 'em pass.”

But as the strangers drew near, their appearance grew less and
less like that of the ordinary footpads for whom they had been
taken; and there was something in their bearing which considerably
shook, though it did not wholly alter, the hunter's intention
to banter them. One was a strongly-built, broad-chested man,
with a high head, hardy brown features, and a countenance betokening
much cool energy and decision of character. The other
was rather less stocky, and slightly taller, of quicker motions, but
withal a prompt, resolute-looking person.

“Well, my friends,” said the former, coming up and pausing
before the expectant Rangers, with an air that seemed to challenge
conversation, “this is Coffin's tavern here ahead, I suppose. Will
the captain be pleased, think ye, to see a little company about
this time?”

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“Der yes,” replied Dunning, eyeing the speaker with a curious,
half doubtful and half quizzing expression. “Yes, if of the
right sort, he wont ditter cry, I reckon. But the captain is sometimes
rather particular — for instance, if you should happen to
be tories —”

“Tories! — do we look like tories?” demanded the former,
glancing to his companion with a droll, surprised look.

“Why der no,” replied the hunter, a little abashed, “I ditter
think not.”

“Well, I had hoped not,” rejoined the man. “But who are
you, my friend — one of the Green Mountain Boys, that we hear
so much about?”

“Not far from the mark, sergeant, or commissary, or whatever
is your ditter title; for you belong to the army that's at hand, I
take it?” said Dunning.

“O, yes,” briskly returned the other, again looking at his companion,
and joining him in a merry laugh. “Yes, I am one of
them, and mean to have a hand in stirring up Burgoyne, when
we reach him, I assure you.”

“That's right, commissary!” exclaimed Dunning. “You are
a der chap of some pluck, I'll warrant it. I begin to ditter like
you. What shall I call your name, friend?”

“My name is John Stark, if you will allow,” replied the stranger,
with an amused look.

“John Stark? Why, that's your der general's name!” said
the hunter, incredulously. “Come, come, friend, you are ditter
gumming me. I have seen John Stark — Captain Stark, that was
then — now general — the same that was bought back by our
folks for a white pony — ditter dog cheap, too, as the British
will find, before he is der done with them, or I mistake the
amount of fight that's in the critter, amazingly.”*

“Thank you, sir!” heartily exclaimed the former, now evidently
as much gratified as amused at what he heard. “In behalf
of that same John Stark, I thank you, sir, for your good
opinion of him. But where, my good fellow,” he continued, with

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a look of lively interest, “where did you ever fall in with Captain
Stark?”

“Why, in the old war, when he der marched through here with
Colonel Hawk, I ditter acted as the colonel's guide over the
mountains to Otter Creek. Stark, as I've said, was one of the
captains, though I wasn't much with him, to be sure,” replied the
hunter, becoming more doubtful and puzzled every moment, at
the turn matters were taking.

“Ah! yes, yes, — our hunter guide on that rough march! I
remember now. Well, well, the fault is not wholly on one side,
after all!” said the other, musingly.

“Der — der — ditter how? der — ditter —” began Dunning,
opening his eyes with an uneasy stare.

“This is General Stark, my boys,” here quickly interposed the
other gentleman. “I see by your badges that you belong to the
Rangers. I am your colonel, Herrick, and this the general himself,
who, by way of relief from a long ride in the saddle, threw
off his uniform, like myself, down in the woods yonder, and
walked on, while the troops were halting to refresh a moment, and
recover from the effects of their march in this scalding heat, before
they made their appearance at your rendezvous. They will
now be on the move shortly.”

“Der — der — ditter —” cried the confused hunter, rising hurriedly
to his feet, and lifting his cap, in a tremor of respectful
deprecation, before the general, while his tongue began to trip
and fly in the vain attempt to get out an apology — “der — der—
ditter — ditter — ditter —”

“Never mind, my brave fellow!” exclaimed Stark, with a
hearty slap on the other's shoulder; “never mind a mistake so
naturally growing out of our unmilitary guise. No offence, even
had your remarks been less pleasant. But you, sir! — why, you
have paid me the greatest compliment I ever had in my life!”

“No — no offence whatever to either of us,” added Herrick.
“But yonder come the columns of our friends and helpers from
New Hampshire. If you are here to give notice of their approach,
as I suppose, make the signal, and back to your post. And here,
general,” he continued, pointing to two fine-looking and gayly caparisoned
horses, now led up by waiters, with the coats, swords,
sashes, and great military cocked hats of the denuded officers
swinging on their arms — “here, general, come our horses and
uniforms. Let us rig up before a worse mistake shall befall us.”

With a curious mixture of chagrin and gratification at what had
just occurred, the two Rangers now made the appointed signal, and

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hurried back to join their companions in arms at the tavern. And
in a few minutes, the fine little brigade of the hardy and resolute
New Hampshire Boys, headed by their intrepid leader, now
equipped in imposing regimentals, and mounted on his curvetting
charger, came pouring along the plain in all the pomp of martial
array, and were received by the customary military salutes, and
the reiterated cheers of their congenial welcomers of the Green
Mountains.

The hour that succeeded was a bustling and a joyous one.
The greetings, the introductions, the mutual compliments for deeds
done at Ticonderoga and Bunker Hill, and the merry jokes given
and taken, as the mingling forces partook of the good cheer prepared
for the whole at the expense of the public or patriotic individuals,
together with the strong community of feeling that agitated
their bosoms in view of a common object to be accomplished,
and common dangers to be encountered, — all combined
to render the scene one of no ordinary interest and animation. At
length, the drums of the different companies began to beat to arms,
and the soldiers were seen gathering at their respective stands, preparatory
to the march of the combined forces across the mountains.

At this juncture, a single horseman came galloping along the
road from the west; and, the next moment, Ira Allen, the active
and untiring secretary of the Council of Safety, with a countenance
betokening good or exciting news, rode up to the door,
and, throwing himself from the saddle, turned to receive the
greetings of his acquaintances gathering round him. With a significant
look and gesture to Woodburn to follow, he led the way
to an unoccupied room, at length found in the crowded tavern.

“What news do you bring, Mr. Allen?” said Woodburn, with
an effort at calmness, as soon as the two were by themselves.

“That which will scatter the blackest part of that cloud on
your brow, I trust, my dear fellow,” replied Allen, with an animated
and exulting air. “Here, look at this!” he added, pulling
out and presenting a small and closely-folded letter.

With trembling eagerness, Woodburn seized the missive, and,
with a glance at the well-known hand of the superscription, “To
Captain Woodburn, or Mr. Allen, of the Council,” opened it, and
read as follows: —

“I am at the British head-quarters — not exactly a prisoner,
but evidently a closely-watched personage, having reached here,
with my captors, after a forced and fatiguing journey, which,
however, was not made unpleasant by any disrespectful

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treatment. Although the party, to whom I became a prisoner, have
been frightened back or recalled, and the expedition, of which
they were the advance, given up, yet I think it my duty to say,
that another, and much more formidable one, is in agitation against
Bennington. I hope our people will be prepared for it, and
show these haughty Britons that they do not deserve the name of
the undisciplined rabble of poltroons and cowards by which I here
daily hear them branded.

We will not attempt to describe the emotions of Woodburn on
the occasion. But the letter disclosed that which involved more
momentous interests than those merely that concerned the individual
feelings of a lover. And it was soon concluded to lay it
before General Stark, who, with Colonel Herrick, was then called
in, the letter shown, and all the attending circumstances, past and
present, so far as concerned the public to know, fully explained.

Mean while the troops were drawn up, in marching order, before
the tavern, and stood wondering why their general did not
appear, or, at least, give order for the column to move onward.

At length, however, the long expected leader, attended by
those with whom he had been in consultation, made his appearance
at the door, and ordered the horses of those who were to
travel mounted to be led forward.

“There's something more than common on John Stark's mind,”
whispered a tall New Hampshire Boy, to his fellow in the ranks.
“See how his eyes snap! I am an old neighbor of his, you know,
and can read him like a book. I shouldn't be surprised if we
heard from him soon; for he an't one of those that like to keep
chawing on a thing that makes him feel, but wants to out with it,
and always will, unless he has good reason for a close mouth.
Yes, I'll bet a goose we hear from him before we start.”

The speaker had conjectured rightly. Stark was heard to say
to Allen, —

“Mount and ride along against the centre there, sir, where you
can best be heard. We must have it; for, besides preparing
their minds for what they probably must soon meet, it will make
a battle cry for your boys and mine as potent, for aught we can
tell, as was the name of Joan of Arc among the Frenchmen.

The officers, with Allen, then sprung into their saddles; and as
the latter reached his allotted post, and faced round to the lines,
the general commanded attention, and added, —

“My men, let me introduce you to Mr. Allen, the patriotic
secretary of the Vermont Council of Safety, and say that I hold

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myself voucher for the truth of what he shall tell you. Listen to
his communication.”

The secretary, now bowing respectfully to the attentive and
already prepossessed ranks before him, began by saying that
among the recreant few of any note in the Green Mountains, who
had basely deserted their country and joined the enemy, there
was one who had a daughter of whom he was wholly unworthy.
The speaker then proceeded to relate Miss Haviland's noble stand
for the American cause, from which she was not to be allured or
driven by all the inducements and menaces held out by a tory
father and lover, both of whom had received royal commissions —
her absolute refusal to go with them, on their late departure for
the British army, and her more recent capture and abduction,
while on her way to her friends, by the probable instigation of the
rejected lover, and with the connivance, perhaps, of the father; all
of which was concluded by reading the letter just received, it was
added, by a trusty messenger, who had gone in disguise to the
enemy's camp to receive it, and who had now returned to keep
open the important communication.

“Men of New Hampshire!” now cried Stark, in a loud, animated
voice, as with flashing eyes he glanced over the throng of
upturned and excited faces before him, “is it any wonder the
Green Mountain Boys are so gallant and brave in fighting for
their wives and sweethearts, when such is a specimen? Will
you join them in defence of their homes and country, and help
fulfil this matchless girl's expectations when we meet that taunting
foe at Bennington, as by God's favor we will? If so, then
let it now be told in three cheers for the good cause, and as many
more as you please for The Tory's Daughter!”

The next instant, as the bidden drummers brought their sticks
to the bounding parchment of their instruments with blows that
seemingly would have thrown their arms from their shoulders, a
thousand men were seen leaping wildly into the air, and giving
their patriotic response in a round of cheers that rent the ringing
heavens above, and shook the startled wilderness for miles around
them.

“Order in the ranks!” at length broke in the deep, stern voice
of the general, as the last cheer was dying away. “Prepare to
march! March!”

And the excited troops could scarcely be kept in their places,
as, with the stirring strains of lively fife and rattling drum, they
went rushing and pouring along on their way to the seat of war.

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