"Indeed, madam," said Washington, bowing politely over

the girl 's hand, and then looking her in the face with

pleasure. "My staff has had quite danger enough this morning

without my subjecting them to this new menace. However,

being lads of spirit, they will only blame me if I seek

to spare them. Look at the eagerness of the blades for the

engagement," he added with a laugh, as he turned to where

the youngsters were idling about within call.

"Oh, your Excellency!" gasped Janice, "I--I--please

may n't I talk to you?"

"Janice!" reproved her mother.

"Oh! I did n't mean that, of course," faltered the girl.

"'T was monstrous bold, and I only wanted--"

"Nay, my child," corrected the general. "Let an old man

think it was intended. Mrs. Meredith, if you'll forgive the

pas, I'll glad General Greene with the privilege of your hand

to the table, while the young lady honours me with hers.

Never fear for me, Miss Janice," he added, smiling; "the

young rascals will be in a killing mood, but they dare not

challenge their commander. There, I'll spare your blushes

by joking you no more. I hope you were not greatly discomforted

in your accommodation?" he asked, as they took their

seats at the long table under the tent on the lawn.

"No, indeed, your Excellency. One of thy staff--I know

not his name, but the one who questioned dadda--was vastly

polite, and gave his room to us."

"That was Colonel Brereton,--the beau of my family.

Look at him there! Wouldst think the coxcomb was in

the charge this morning?"

Janice, for the first time, found courage to raise her eyes

and glance along what to her seemed a sea of men's faces, till

they settled on the person Washington indicated. Then she

gave so loud an exclamation of surprise that every one looked

at her. Conscious of this, she was once more seized with

stage fright, and longed to slip from her chair and hide herself

under the table.

"What startled thee, my child?" asked the general.

"Oh--he--nothing--" she gasped. "Who--what didst

thou say was his name?"

"John Brereton."

"Oh!" was all Janice replied, as she drew a long breath.

"'T will ne'er do to let him know you've honoured him by

particular notice," remarked the commander; "for both at

Boston and New York the ladies have pulled caps for him to

such an extent that 't is like he'll grow so fat with vanity that

he'll soon be unable to sit his horse."

"Is--is he a Virginian, your Excellency?"

"No. 'T is thought he's English."

Janice longed to ask more questions, but did not dare, and

as the bottle passed, the conversation became general, permitting

her to become a listener. When the moment came for the

ladies to withdraw, she followed her mother.

"Oh, mommy!" she said the instant she could, "didst

recognise Charles?"

"Charles! What Charles?"

"Charles Fownes--our bond-servant--Colonel Brereton."

"Nonsense, child! What maggot idea hast thee got now?"

"'T is he truly--and I never thought he could be handsome.

But his being clean-shaven and wearing a wig--"

"No more of thy silly clack!" ordered her mother. "A

runaway bond-servant on his Excellency's staff, quotha!

Though he does head the rebels, General Washington is a

man of breeding and would never allow that."

Before the men rose from the table the ladies were joined

by Washington and Mr. Meredith.

"I have already expressed my regrets to your husband, Mrs.

Meredith," said the general, "that a suspicion against him

should have put you all to such material discomfort, and I desire

to repeat them to you. Yet however greatly I mourn the

error for your sake, for my own it is somewhat balanced by the

pleasure you have afforded me by your company. Indeed, 't is

with a certain regret that I received Colonel Brereton's report,

which, by completely exonerating Mr. Meredith, is like to

deprive us of your presence."

"Your Excellency is over-kind," replied Mrs. Meredith,

with an ease that excited the envy of her daughter.

"The general has ordered his barge for us, my dear," said

the squire, "and 't is best that we get across the river while

there 's daylight, if we hope to be back at Greenwood by

to-morrow evening."

Farewells were promptly made, and, under the escort of

Major Gibbs, they set out for the river. Once in the boat,

Janice launched into an ecstatic eulogium on the commander-in-chief.

"Ay," assented Mr. Meredith; "the general 's a fine man in

bad company. 'T is a mortal shame to think he's like to come

to the gallows."

"Dadda! No!"

"Yes. They put a bold face on 't, but after yesterday's defeat

they can't hold the island another week; and when they

lose it the rebellion is split, and that 's an end to 't. 'T will be

all over in a month, mark me."

Janice pulled a very serious face for a moment, and then

asked: "Didst notice Colonel Brereton, dadda?"

"Ay. And a polite man he is. He not merely had us released,

but I have in my pocket a protection from the general

he got for me."

"Didst not recognise him?"

"Recognise? Who? What?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Janice.

XXV

FREEDOM IN RETROGRADE

The departure of the Merediths for headquarters

under arrest had set Brunswick agog, and all

sorts of surmises as to their probable guilt and fate

had given the gossips much to talk of; their return,

three days later, not merely unpunished, but with a protection

from the commander-in-chief, set the village clacks still more

industriously at work.

Events were moving so rapidly, however, that local affairs

were quickly submerged. News of Washington's abandonment

of the island of New York and retreat into Westchester,

pursued by Howe's army, of the capture of Fort Washington

and its garrison, of the evacuation of Fort Lee, of the steady

dwindling of the Continental Army by the expiration of the

terms of enlistment, and still more by wholesale desertions,

reached the little community in various forms. But interesting

though all this was for discussion at the tavern of an

evening, or to fill in the vacant hour between the double

service on a Sunday, it was still too distant to seem quite

real, and so the stay-at-home farmers peacefully completed

the getting in of their harvests, while the housewives baked

and spun as of yore, both conscious of the conflict more

through the gaps in the village society, caused by the

absences of their more belligerently inclined neighbours,

than from the actual clash of war.

The absent ones, it is needless to say, were the doughty

warriors of the "Invincibles," who had been called into service

along with the rest of the New Jersey militia when Howe's

fleet had anchored in the bay of New York three months

before, and who had since formed part of the troops defending

the towns of Amboy and Elizabethport, but a few miles

away, from the possible descent of the British forces lying on

Staten Island. This arrangement not only spared them from

all active service, thus saving the parents and wives of Brunswick

from serious anxiety, but also permitted frequent home

visits, with or without furlough, thus supplying the town with

its chief means of news.

An end came, however, to this period of quiet. Early in

November vague rumours, growing presently to specific statements,

told the villagers that their day was approaching. The

British troops on Staten Island were steadily reinforced; the

small boats of the line-of-battle ships and frigates were gathered

opposite Amboy and Paulus Hook; large supplies of

forage and cattle were massed at various points. Everything

betokened an intended descent of the royal army into New

Jersey; that the new-made State was to be baptised with

blood.

The successive defeats of the Continental army wonderfully

cooled many of the townspeople who but a few months before

had vigorously applauded and saluted the glowing lines of the

Declaration of Independence, when it had been read aloud to

them by the Rev. Mr. McClave. One of the first evidences

of this alteration of outward manner, if not of inward faith,

was shown in the sudden change adopted by the community

toward the household of Greenwood. When the squire had

departed in custody he apparently possessed not one friend in

Brunswick, but within a month of his return the villagers, the

parson excepted, were making bows to him, in the growing

obsequiousness of which might be inferred the growing desperation

of the Continental cause. Yet another indication

was the appearance of certain of the," Invincibles," who came

straggling sheepishly into town one by one--"Just ter see how

all the folks wuz"--and who, for reasons they kept more

private, failed to rejoin their company after having satisfied

their curiosity. Most incriminating of all, however, was the

return of Bagby from the session of the Legislature then being

held in Princeton, and his failure to go to Amboy to take

command of his once gloried-in company.

"'T would n't be right to take the ordering away from

Zerubbabel just when there 's a chance for fighting, after he's

done the work all summer," was the captain's explanation of

his conduct; and though his townsmen may have suspected

another motive, they were all too bent on staying at home

themselves, and were too busy taking in sail on the possibility

of having to go about on another tack, to question his

reasons.

If the mountain would not go, Mahomet would come; and

one evening late in November, while the wind whistled and

the rain beat outside the "Continental Tavern," as it was now

termed, the occupants of the public room suddenly ceased

from the plying of glasses and pipes, upon the hurried entrance

of a man.

"The British is comin'!" he bellowed, bringing every man

to his feet by the words.

"How does yer know?" demanded Squire Hennion.

"I wuz down ter the river ter see if my boat wuz tied fast

enuf ter stand the blow an' I hearn the tramp of snogers

comin' across the bridge."

"The bridge!" shouted Bagby. "Then they must be--

Swamp it! there is n't more than time enough to run."

Clearly he spoke truly, for even as he ended his sentence

the still unclosed door was filled by armed men. A cry of

terror broke from the tavern frequenters, but in another

moment this was exchanged for others of relief and welcome,

when man after man entered and proved himself to be none

other than an invincible.

"How, now, Leftenant Buntling?" demanded Bagby, in

an attempt to regain his dignity. "What is the meaning of

this return without orders?"

"The British landed a swipe o' men at Amboy this mornin',

makin' us fall back mighty quick ter Bonumtown, an' there,

arter the orficers confabulated, it wuz decided thet as the

bloody-backs wuz too strong ter fight, the militia and the

flyin' camp thereabouts hed better go home an' look ter their

families. An' so we uns come off with the rest."

"You mean to say," asked Joe, "that you did n't strike

one blow for freedom; did n't fire one shot at the tools of the

tyrant?"

"Oh, cut it, Joe," growled one of the privates. "Thet 'ere

talk duz fer the tavern and fer election times, but 't ain't

worth a darn when ye've marched twenty miles on an empty

stomick. Set the drinks up fer us, or keep quiet."

"That I will for you all," responded Bagby, "and what 's

more, the whole room shall tipple at my expense."

No more drinks were ordered, however; for a second time

the occupants of the room were startled by the door being

thrown open quickly to give entrance to a man wrapped in a

riding cloak, but whose hat and boots both bespoke the officer.

"Put your house in readiness for General Washington and

his staff, landlord," the new-comer ordered sharply. "They

will be here shortly, and will want supper and lodgings." He

turned in the doorway and called: "Get firewood from where

you can, Colonel Hand, and kindle beacon fires at both ends

of the bridge, to light the waggons and the rest of the forces;

throw out patrols on the river road both to north and south,

and quarter your regiment in the village barns." Then he

added in a lower voice to a soldier who stood holding a horse

at the door: "Put Janice in the church shed, Spalding; rub

her down, and see to it that she gets a measure of oats and

a bunch of fodder." He turned and strode to the fire, his

boots squelching as he walked, as if in complaint at their besoaked

condition. Hanging his hat upon the candle hook on

one side of the chimney breast and his cloak on the other,

he stood revealed a well-dressed officer, in the uniform of a

Continental colonel.

It had taken the roomful a moment to recover their equipoise

after the fright, but now Squire Hennion spoke up:

"So yer retreatin' some more, hey?"

The officer, who had been facing the fire in an evident

attempt to dry and warm himself, faced about sharply:

"Retreat!" he answered bitterly. "Can you do anything

else with troops who won't fight; who in the most critical

moment desert by fifties, by hundreds, ay, by whole regiments?

Six thousand men have left us since we crossed into Jersey.

A brigade of your own troops--of the State we had come to

fight for--left us yesterday morning, when news came that

Cornwallis was advancing upon our position at Newark.

What can we do but retreat?"

"Well, may I be dummed!" ejaculated Bagby, "if it is n't

Squire Meredith's runaway bondsman, and dressed as fine

as a fivepence!"

The officer laughed scornfully. "Ay," he assented. "'T is

the fashion of the land to run away, so 't is only a la mode

that bondsmen and slaves should imitate their betters."

"Yer need n't mount us Americans so hard, seem' as yer

took mortal good care ter git in the front ranks of them as

wuz retreatin'," asserted an Invincible.

I undertook to guide the retreat, because I knew the

roads of the region," retorted the officer, hotly, evidently

stung by the remark; then he laughed savagely and continued:

"And how comes it, gentlemen all, that you are not gloriously

serving your country? Cornwallis, with nine thousand picked

infantry, is but a twenty miles to the northward; Knyphausen

and six thousand Hessians landed at Perth Amboy this morning,

and would have got between us and Philadelphia but for

our rapid retreat. Canst sit and booze yourself with flip and

swizzle when there are such opportunities for valour? Hast

forgotten the chorus you were for ever singing?" Brereton

sang out with spirit:--

"'In Freedom we're born, and, like Sons of the Brave,

We'll never surrender,

But swear to defend her,

And scorn to survive, if unable to save.'"

"'T ain't no good fighting when we hav n't a general,"

snarled Bagby.

"Now damn you for a pack of dirty, low-minded curs!"

swore the officer, his face blazing with anger. "Here you've

a general who is risking life, and fortune, and station; and

then you blame him because he cannot with a handful of raw

troops defeat thirty thousand regulars. There's not a general

in Europe--not the great Frederick himself--who'd so

much as have tried to make head against such odds, much

less have done so much with so little. After a whole summer

campaign what have the British to show? They've gained

the territory within gunshot of their fleet; but at White Plains,

though they were four to one, they dared not attack us,

and valiantly turned tail about, preferring to overrun undefended

country to assaulting our position. I tell you General

Washington is the honestest, bravest, most unselfish man in

the world, and you are a pack of--"

"Are my quarters ready, Colonel Brereton?" asked a tall

man, standing in the doorway.

"This way, yer Excellency," obsequiously cried the landlord,

catching up a candle and coming out from behind the

bar. "I've set apart our settin'-room and our bestest room

--thet 'ere with the tester bed--for yer honourable Excellency."

"Come with me, Colonel Brereton," ordered the general, as

he followed the publican.

Motioning the tavern-keeper out of the room, Washington

threw aside his wet cloak and hat, and taking from a pocket

what looked like a piece of canvas, he unfolded and spread

it out on the table, revealing a large folio map of New Jersey.

"You know the country," he said; "show me where the

Raritan can be forded."

"Here, here, and here," replied Brereton, indicating with

his finger the points. "But this rain to-night will probably so

swell it that there'll be no crossing for come a two days."

"Then if we destroy the bridge Cornwallis cannot cross for

the present?"

"No, your Excellency. But if 't is their policy to again try

to outflank us, they'll send troops from Staten Island by boat

to South Amboy; and by a forced march through Monmouth

they can seize Princeton and Trenton, while Cornwallis holds

us here."

"'T is evident, then, that we can make no stand except at

the Delaware, should they seek to get in our rear. Orders

must be sent to secure all the boats in that river, and

to--"

A knock at the door interrupted him, and in reply to his

"Come in," an officer entered, and, saluting, said hurriedly:

"General Greene directs me to inform your Excellency that

word has reached him that a brigade of the New Jersey militia

have deserted and have seized and taken with them the larger

part of the baggage train. The commissary reports that the

stores saved will barely feed the forces one day more."

Washington stood silent for a moment. "I will send a

message back to General Greene by you presently. In the

meantime join my family, who are Supping, Major Williams."

Then, when the officer had left the room, the commander sat

down at the table and rested his head on his hand, as if weary.

"Such want of spirit and fortitude, such disaffection and

treachery, show the game to be pretty well up," he muttered

to himself.

Brereton who had fallen back at the entrance of the aide,

once more came to the table. "Your Excellency," he said,

"we are but losing the fair-weather men, who are really no

help, and what is left will be tried troops and true."

"Left to starve!"

"This is a region of plenty. But give me the word, and in

one day I'll have beef and corn enough to keep the army for

a three months."

"They refuse to sell for Continental money."

"Then impress."

"It must come to that, I fear. Yet it will make the farmers

enemies to the cause."

"No more than they are now, I wot," sneered the aide.

"And if you leave them their crops 't will be but for them to

sell to the British. 'T is a war necessity."

Washington rose, the moment's discouragement already

conquered and his face set determinedly. "Give orders to

Hazlett and Hand to despatch foraging parties at dawn, to

seize all cattle, pigs, corn, wheat, or flour they may find, save

enough for the necessities of the people, and to impress horses

and wagons in which to transport them. Then join us at

supper."

Brereton saluted, and turned, but as he did so Washington

again spoke:--

"I overheard what you were saying in the public room,

Brereton," he said. "Some of my own aides are traducing

me in secret, and making favour with other generals by praising

them and criticising me, against the possibility that I may

be superseded. But I learned that I have one faithful

man."

"Ah, your Excellency," impulsively cried the young officer,

starting forward, "'t is a worthless life,--which brought disgrace

to mother, to father, and to self; but what it is, is yours."

"Thank you, my boy," replied Washington, laying his hand

affectionately on Brereton's shoulder. "As you say, 't is a

time which winnows the chaff from the wheat. I thank God

He has sent some wheat to me." And there were tears in

the general's eyes as he spoke.

XXVI

NECESSITY KNOWS NO LAWS

While the family of Greenwood were still at the

breakfast-table on the following morning, they

were startled by a shriek from the kitchen, and

then by Peg and Sukey bursting into the room

where they sat.

"Oh, marse," gasped the cook, "de British!"

Both the squire and Janice sprang to the windows, to

see a file of soldiers, accompanied by a mounted officer, drawn

up at the rear of the house. As they took this in, the line

broke into squads, one of which marched toward the stable,

a second toward the barn, while the third disappeared round

the corner of the house. With an exclamation the squire

hurried to the kitchen and intrenched himself in the door

just as the party reached it.

"Who are ye, and by what right do ye trespass on my

property?" he demanded.

"Git out of the way, ole man," ordered the sergeant.

"We hev orders ter take a look at yer store-room and cellar,

an' we ha'n't got no time to argify."

"Ye'll not get into my cellar, that I can tell--" began

the squire; but his remark ended in a howl of pain, as the

officer dropped the butt of his musket heavily on the

squire's toes. The agony was sufficient to make the owner of

Greenwood collapse into a sitting position on the upper step

and fall to nursing the injured member.

Janice, who had followed her father into the kitchen, sprang

forward with a cry of sympathy and fright, just as the mounted

officer, who had heard the squire's yell, came trotting round

the corner.

"No violence, sergeant!" he called sternly.

"Not a bit, sir," replied the aggressor. "One of the boys

happened ter drop his muskit on the old gentleman's corns,

an' I was apologisin' fer his carelessness."

"You dreadful liar!" cried Janice, hotly, turning from her

attempted comforting of the squire. "He did it on--oh!"

She abruptly ended her speech as the mounted officer uncovered

and bowed to her, and the "Oh!" was spoken as

she recognised him. "Charles--Colonel Brereton!" the

girl exclaimed.

"Charles!" exclaimed Mrs. Meredith, coming to the door.

"Hoighty toighty, if it is n't!"

"I am very sorry that we are compelled to impress food,

Mrs. Meredith," said the aide; "but as it is useless to resist I

trust you will not make the necessity needlessly unpleasant."

"Ye 're a pack of ruffians and thieves!" cried the

squire.

"Nay, Mr. Meredith," answered the aide, quietly; "we

pay for it."

"In paper money that won't be worth a penny in the

pound, come a month."

"That remains to be seen," responded the officer.

"'T is quite of a piece that a runaway redemptioner should

return with other thieves and rob his master!" fumed the

owner of Greenwood.

Brereton grew red, and retorted: "I am not in command

of this force, and rode out with them at some sacrifice to save

you from possible violence or unnecessary discomfort. Since

you choose to insult me, I will not remain. Do your duty,

sergeant," was the officer's parting injunction as he wheeled

his horse and started toward the road.

"Stick him with yer bagonet, Pelatiah," ordered the

sergeant, motioning toward the squire, who, still sitting in the

doorway, very effectually blocked the way. Pelatiah, duly

obedient, pricked the well-developed calf of the master of

Greenwood, bringing that individual to his feet with another

howl, which drew sympathetic shrieks from Mrs. Meredith and

Janice.

Evidently the cries made it impossible for Colonel Brereton

to hold to his intention, for he once again turned his horse

and came riding back. By the time he reached the door the

squire had been shoved to one side, and the men could be

heard ransacking the larder and cellar none too quietly.

"Though you slight my services," the aide explained, "I'll

bide for the present."

Meanwhile the parties that had been detached to the other

points could be seen harnessing oxen and horses to the hay

cart, farm waggons, and even the big coach, and loading them

from the corn-crib and barn. Presently the cortege started for

the house, and here more stores of various kinds were loaded.

During the whole of this operation the squire kept busily

expressing his opinions of the proceedings of the foragers, of

the army to which they belonged, and of the Continental

cause generally, which, but for the presence of the staff officer,

would have probably led to his ducking in the horse trough,

or to some other expression of the party's displeasure.

"I see ye take good care to steal all my horses, so that I

shall not be able to ride to Brunswick and report ye to the

commander," he railed, just as the last armful of hams and

sides of bacon was thrown into the coach. "We heard tales

of how ye robbed and plundered about York, unbeknownst to

the general, and I've no doubt ye are thieving now without

his knowledge."

"If you want to get to Brunswick you shall have a lift,"

offered the aide. "We'll drive you there, and I'll see to it

that you have a horse to bring you back."

"Ay. And leave my wife and daughter to be outraged by

you villainous Whigs."

Again Brereton lost his temper. "I challenge you to prove

one case of our army insulting a woman," he cried. "And

hast heard of the doings of the last few days? Of the conduct

of British soldiers to the women of Hackensack and

Elizabethtown, or of the brutality of the Hessians at Rahway?

At this very moment Mr. Collins is printing for us broadsides

of the affidavits of the poor miserable victims, in the hopes

that we can rouse the country by them."

"'T is nothing but a big Whig clanker, I'll be bound!"

snorted Mr. Meredith.

"I would for the sake of manhood they were!" said the

officer. "I was once proud to be a British soldier--" he

checked himself sharply, and then went on: "If you fear for

Mrs. Meredith and Miss Janice, take them with you. I'll

see to it that you all return in comfort."

Although the squire had no particular fear of the safety of

his womankind, he did not choose to confess it after what he

had said; and so, without more ado, his wife and daughter

were ordered to don their calashes and cloaks. Then the

odd-looking caravan, of five vehicles, nine cows, and four

squealing pigs, started,--Mrs. Meredith and Janice and the

squire seated on the box of the coach, while the driver

bestrode one of the horses.

The excitement of the drive was delightful to Janice, and it

was not lessened by what she heard. The aide rode beside

the coach, and at first tried to engage her in conversation, but

the girl was too shy and self-conscious to talk easily to him,

and so it ended in chat between the officer and Mr. and Mrs.

Meredith, in which he told of how he had secured his position

on the staff of the general, and gave an outline history of the

siege of Boston, the campaigning about New York, and the

retreat to Brunswick.

"I knew the rake-hells 'ud never fight," asserted the squire,

at one point.

"Like all green troops, they object to discipline, and have

shown cowardice in the face of the enemy. But the British

would not dare say as much as you say, after the lessons

they've had. The fault is mainly with the officers, who, by

the system of election or appointment, are chiefly politicians

and popularity-seekers not fit to black boots, much less command

companies and regiments. Here in this town, the life

was sapped out of the 'Invincibles' by their own officers; but

the parson went among the men this morning, and the best of

them formed a new company under him and enlisted for the

year. And those who helped me take the powder to Cambridge

volunteered, and have proved good men. All they

need are good officers to make them good soldiers."

"What did ye with that rogue Evatt?" demanded the

squire, his mind recalled to the subject by the allusion to the

powder; and Janice hastily caught hold of the fore-string of

her calash to pull the headgear forward so that her face should

be hidden from the aide. Yet she listened to the reply with

an attentive if red face.

"Our kidnapping of him not being easy to justify, I did not

choose to take him to Cambridge and so, when we spoke a

brig outside Newport, bound for Madeira, I e'en bargained his

passage on her. 'T is naturally the last I ever heard of him."

Then poor Janice had to hear her father and mother express

their thanks to the officer and berate the runaway pair;

and the painful subject was abandoned only when they drove

into Brunswick, where its interest could not compete with that

of the masses of soldiers camped on the green, the batteries of

artillery planted along the river front, and the general hurly-burly

everywhere.

"You had best sit where you are, ladies," the aide remarked,

"for the inn is full of men;" and the two accepted

his suggestion, and from their coign of vantage surveyed the

scene, while the squire, tumbling off the waggon, demanded

word with the commander-in-chief.

"I'll tell him you wish speech with him," said Brereton,

dismounting and going into the tavern.

It is only human when one is in misery to take a certain

satisfaction in finding that misfortune is not a personal monopoly.

While the squire waited to pour out his complaint, he

found farmer after farmer standing about with similar intent;

and, greatly comforted by the grievances of his neighbors, he

became almost joyous when Squire Hennion, following a long

line of carts loaded with his year's harvest, added himself to

the scene, and with oaths and wails sought in turn to express

his anger and misery.

"Tew rob a genuine Son o' Liberty," he whined, "ez hez

allus stood by the cause! The general shall hear o' 't. I'm

ruined. I'll starve. I'll--"

"Ho, ho!" laughed Mr. Meredith, heartily. "So sitting on

both sides don't pay, eh? And a good serve out it is to ye, ye

old trimmer. What! object to paper dollars, when ye are so

warm a Whig? What if they are only worth two shillings in

the pound, specie? Liberty for ever! Ho, ho! This is

worth the trip to Brunswick alone."

Colonel Brereton came out of the tavern with a paper in his

hand, and called the squire aside.

"Mr. Meredith," he said in a low voice, his face eager, yet

worn with anxiety, "I find that since I left camp this morning

the rest of the New Jersey and all of the Maryland flying

camps have refused to stay, and have left us, though Cornwallis's

advance is at Piscataway, and as he is pushing forward

by forced marches he will reach the Raritan within two hours."

"No doubt, no doubt," assented the squire, gleefully.

"Another week will put him in Philadelphia, and then ye

rebels will dance for it. No wonder ye look frighted,

man."

"I am not scared on my own account," replied the officer,

bitterly. "A dozen bullets, whether in battle or standing

blindfold against a white wall, are all the same to me. I'll

take the gallows itself, if it comes, and say good quittance."

"Ay," grunted Mr. Meredith, "go on. Tip us a good

touch of the heroics."

The aide smiled, but then went on anxiously: "But what I

do fear, and why I tell you what I do, is for--for--for Mrs.

Meredith and--The loss of this force leaves us barely three

thousand men to fight Cornwallis's and Knyphausen's fifteen

thousand. We shall burn the bridge within the hour, but

that will scarce check them, and so we must retreat to the

Delaware."

"And how does this affect me?"

"Every hour brings us word of the horrible excesses of the

British soldiery. No woman seems safe from--For God's

sake, Mr. Meredith, don't remain here! But go with our

army, and I'll pledge you my word you shall be safe and as

comfortable as it is in my power to make you."

"Tush! British officers never--"

"'T is not the officers, but the common soldiers who straggle

from the lines for plunder and--while the pigs of Hessians

and Waldeckers, sold by their princes at so much per head,

cannot be controlled, even by their own officers. See, here, is

the broadside of which I spoke. I have seen every affidavit,

and swear to you that they are genuine. Don't--you can't

risk such a fate for Mrs. Meredith or--" Brereton stopped,

unable to say more, and thrust the paper he held in his hand

into that of the squire.

"I'll have none of your Whig lies puffed on me!" persisted

the squire, obstinately.

The officer started to argue; but as he did so the gallop of a

horse's feet was heard, and Colonel Laurens came dashing up.

Throwing himself from the saddle, he flung into the tavern;

and that he brought important news was so evident that

Brereton hurriedly left Mr. Meredith and followed. Barely a

moment passed when aide after aide issued from the inn, and,

mounting, spurred away in various directions. The results

were immediate. The carts were hurriedly put in train and

started southward on the Princeton post-road, smoke began to

rise from the bridge, the batteries limbered up, and the regiments

on the green fell in and then stood at ease.

While these obvious preparations for a retreat were in progress

a coloured man appeared, leading so handsome and

powerful a horse that Janice, who had much of her father's

taste, gave a cry of pleasure and, jumping from her perch,

went forward to stroke the beast's nose.

"What a beauty!" she cried.

"Yes, miss, dat Blueskin," replied the darky, grinning

proudly. "He de finest horse from de Mount Vernon stud,

but he great villain, jus' de same. He so obstropolus when he

hear de guns dat the gin'l kian't use him, an' has tu ride ole

Nelson when dyars gwine tu be any fightin'."

Janice leaned forward and kissed the "great villain" on his

soft nose, and then turned to find the general standing in the

doorway watching her.

"I have not time to attend to your complaints, gentlemen,"

he announced to the two esquires and the group of farmers, all

of whom started forward at his appearance. "File your

statements and claims with the commissary-general, and in due

time they'll receive attention." Then he came toward his

horse, and as he recognised the not easily forgotten face he

uncovered. "I trust Miss Janice remembers me!" he said, a

smile succeeding the careworn look of the previous moment,

and added: "Had ye been kind, ye'd have kept that caress

for the master."

Janice coloured, but replied with a mixture of assurance

and shyness: "Blueskin could not ask for it, but your Excellency--"

Then she paused and coloured still more.

Washington laughed, and, stooping, kissed her hand.

"Being a married man, must limit the amount of his yielding

to temptation," he said, finishing the sentence for the girl.

"I would I were to have the honour of your company at dinner

once more, but your friends, the British, will not give us

the time. So I must mount and say farewell."

Janice turned an eager face up to the general, as he swung

himself into the saddle. "Oh, your Excellency," she exclaimed

below her breath, "dadda would think it very wicked

of me, but I hope you'll beat them!"

Washington's face lighted up, and, leaning over, he once

more kissed her hand. "Thank you for the wish, my child,"

he said, and, giving Blueskin the spur, rode toward the river.

"If Philemon was only like his Excellency!" thought the

girl.

XXVII

A CHECK TO THE ENEMY

There followed a weary hour of waiting, while first

the carts, then the artillery, and finally the few

hundred ill-clad, weary men filed off on the post-road.

Before the rear-guard had begun its march,

British regiments could be discerned across the river, and presently

a battery came trotting down to the opposite shore, and

a moment later the guns were in position to protect a crossing.

This accomplished, a squadron of light dragoons rode into the

water and struck boldly across, a number of boats setting out

at the same moment, each laden with redcoats. While they

were yet in mid-stream the Continental bugles sounded the retreat,

and the last American regiment marched across the green

and disappeared from view.

Owing to the fact that the coach had not been parked with

the waggons, but had been brought to the tavern door, the baggage-train

had moved off without it,--a circumstance, needless

to say, which did not sadden the squire. It so happened that

the vehicle had stopped immediately under the composite portrait

sign-board of the inn; and no sooner was the last American

regiment lost to view than the publican appeared, equipped

with a paint-pot and brush, and, muttering an apology to the

owner of the coach, now seated beside his wife and daughter

on the box, he climbed upon the roof and, by a few crude

strokes, altered the lettering from "Gen. George the Good

into "King George the Good." But he did not attempt to

change the firm chin and the strong forehead the bondsman

had added to the face.

Barely was the operation finished when the British light

horse came wading out of the water and cantered up the river

road to the green, the uniforms and helmets flashing brilliantly,

the harness jingling, and the swords clanking merrily.

"There are troops worth talking about," cried the squire,

enthusiastically.

He spoke too quickly, for the moment the "dismount"

sounded, twenty men were about the coach.

"Too good horses for a damned American!" shouted one,

and a dozen hands were unharnessing them on the instant.

"A load of prog, boys!" gleefully shouted a second, and

both doors were flung open, and the soldiers were quickly

crowding each other in their endeavours to get a share.

"Egad!" announced another, "but I'll have a tousel and a

buss from yon lass on the box." "Well said!" cried a fourth,

and both sprang on the wheel, as a first step to the attainment

of their wishes.

Mr. Meredith, from the box, had been shrieking affirmations

of his loyalty to King George without the slightest heed being

paid to him; but there is a limit to passivity, and as the two men

on the wheel struggled which should first gain the desired

prize, the squire kicked out twice with his foot in rapid succession,

sending both disputants back into the crowd of troopers.

Howls of rage arose on all sides; and it would have fared

badly with the master of Greenwood had not the noise brought

an officer up.

"Here, here!" he cried sharply, "what 's all this pother

about?"

"'T is a damned Whig, who is--"

"A lie!" roared the squire. "There is no better subject

of King George living than Lambert Meredith."

The officer jeered. "That's what every rebel claims of

late. Not one breathes in the land, if you'd but believe the

words of you turncoats."

"'T is not a lie," spoke up Janice, her face blazing with

temper and her fists clinched as if she intended to use them.

"Dadda always--"

"Ho!" exclaimed the officer, "what a pretty wench! Art

a rebel, too? for if so, I'll see to it that guard duty falls to

me. Come, black eyes, one kiss, and I'll send the men to

right about."

Janice caught the whip from its socket and raised it threateningly,

just as another officer from a newly arrived company

came spurring up and, without warning, began to strike right

and left with the flat of his sword. "Off with you, you

damned rapscallions!" he shouted. "Leftenant Bromhead,

where are your manners?"

"And where are yours, Mr. Hennion, that ye dare speak so

to your superior officer?" demanded the lieutenant.

There was no mistaking Philemon, changed though he was.

He wore a fashionable wig, and his clothes fitted well a figure

that, once shambling and loose-jointed, had now all the erectness

of the soldier, but the face was unchanged.

"I'll not quarrel with you now," swaggered Philemon.

"If you want ter fight later I'm your man, an' if you want

ter go before Colonel Harcourt with a complaint I'll face you.

But now I've other matters." He turned to the trio on the

box, and exclaimed as he doffed his hat: "Well, squire, didst

ever expect sight of me again? An' how do Mrs. Meredith

and Janice? Strap my vitals, if I've seen such beauty since I

left Brunswick," he added airily, and making Janice feel very

much put out of countenance.

"Welcome, Philemon!" cried Mrs. Meredith, "and doubly

welcome at such a moment."

"Ay," shouted the squire, heartily. "Ye arrived just in the

nick o' time to save your bride, Phil." A remark which sent

the whip rattling to the ground from the hands of Janice.

"An' ye a king's officer!" he ended. "Bubble your story

to us, lad."

"There ain't much ter tell as you don't know already. Sir

William put no faith in the news I carried, thinkin' it but a Whig

trick, and so they held me prisoner. But later, when 't was

too late ter use it, they learned the word I brought them

was true; so they set me free, and as there was no gettin'

away from Boston, the general gave me a cornetcy, that I

should not starve."

"I'll lay to it that there'll be no more starvation now that

you 're back home," cried the squire, "though betwixt your

cheating old sire, who'll pay no interest on his mortgages,

and the merchants gone bankrupt in York, and now this loss

of harvest and stock, 't is like Greenwood will show but a lean

larder for a time. But mayhaps now that ye've gone up in

the world, ye'd like to cry off from the bargain?"

"But let me finish the campaign by capturin' Philadelphia,

and dispersin' Washington's pack of peddlers and jail-birds,

which won't take mor'n a fortnight, and then you can't name

a day too soon for me, an' I hope not for your daughter.

You can't call me gawk any longer, I reckon, Janice?"

"Thou camst nigh to losing her, Phil," declared Mrs.

Meredith.

"Ay," added the squire. "Hast heard of how that scoundrel

Evatt schemed

"Oh, dadda!" moaned Janice, imploringly.

"No scoundrel is he, squire, nor farmer neither; he bein' Lord

Clowes," asserted Phil. "He joined our army at New York,

and is Sir William's commissary-general an' right-hand man."

A more effectual interruption than that of the girl's prevented

Mr. Meredith from enlarging upon the theme, for

the bugle sounded in quick succession the "assembly" and

"boots and saddles."

"That calls me," announced Phil, with an air of importance.

"We ain't goin' ter give the runaways no rest, you see."

"But Phil," cried the squire, "ye'll not leave us to be

again--And they've stole Joggles and Jumper, and all my

hams and sides. Ye must--"

"I can't bide now," called back the cornet, hurriedly taking

his position just as the bugle called the marching order,

and the squadron moved off after the retreating Continentals.

Helpless to move, the Merediths sat on their coach while

an officer, accompanied by a file of soldiers and half a dozen

drummers, took station at the Town Hall. First a broadside

was posted on the bulletin-board, and the drums beat the

"parley" long and loudly. Then the drummers and the file

split into two parties, and marching down the village street in

opposite directions, the non-commissioned officers, to the beat

of drum, shouted summons to all the population to assemble

at the hall to take the oath of allegiance to "King George the

Third, by the grace of God, of Great Britain, France, and Ireland,

King, Defender of the Faith, and so forth."

The first man to step forward to take the oath, sign the

submission, and receive his pardon was the Hon. Joseph

Bagby, erstwhile member of the Assembly of New Jersey, but

now loudly declaring his loyalty to the crown, and his joy

that "things were to be put in order again." The second

signer was the publican; the third was Esquire Hennion; and

after him came all the townsmen, save those who had thrown

in their lot along with the parson that morning by marching

off with Washington.

Mr. Meredith descended from his seat and waited his turn

to go through what was to him a form, and during this time

the ladies watched the troops being ferried across the river.

Presently an officer rode up the river road, issuing orders to

the regiments, which promptly fell in, while the rider halted

at the tavern, announced the soon-to-be-expected arrival of

Generals Howe and Cornwallis, and bade the landlord prepare

his best cheer. While he spoke a large barge landed its

burden of men and horses on the shore, and a moment later

a dozen officers came trotting up to the tavern between lines

of men with their guns at "present arms."

"What ho! Well met, friend Meredith," cried one of the

new-comers, as the group halted at the tavern. "I was but

just telling Sir William that the king had one good friend in

Brunswick town, and now here he is!" Evatt, or Clowes,

swung out of the saddle and extended his hand.

Although the squire had just recovered the whip dropped

by Janice, he did not keep to his intention of laying it across

the shoulders of the would-be abductor, but instead grasped

the hand offered.

"Well met, indeed," he assented cordially. "'T is a glad

sight to us to see our good king's colours and troops."

"Sir William," called the baron, "thou must know Mr.

Lambert Meredith, first, because he's the one friend our king

has in this town, and next, because, as thy commissary, I forbid

thee to dine at the tavern on the vile fried pork or bubble

and squeak, and the stinking whiskey or rum thou'lt be served

with, and, in Mr. Meredith's name, invite thee and his Lordship

to eat a dinner at Greenwood, where thou'lt have the

best of victuals, washed down with Madeira fit for Bacchus."

"Ay," cried Mr. Meredith, "the rebels have done their

best to bring famine to Greenwood, but it shall spread its best

to any of his Majesty's servants."

"Here 's loyalty indeed," said Sir William, heartily, as he

leaned in his saddle to shake the squire's hand. "Damn

your rebel submissions and oaths, not worth the paper they 're

writ on; but good Madeira,--that smacks loyal and true on a

parched tongue and cannot swear false. Lead the way, Mr.

Meredith, and we'll do as much justice to your wine as later

we'll do to Mr. Washington, if we can ever come up with him.

Eh, Charles?"

The officer addressed, who was frowning, gave an impatient

movement in the saddle that seemed to convey dissent. "Of

what use was our forced march," he demanded, "if not to

come up with the fox before he finds cover?"

"Nay, the rebels are so little hampered by baggage that

they can outstrip all save our light horse. And because they

have the legs of us is no reason for our starving ourselves; the

further they run, the more exhausted they'll be."

"Well argued," chimed in Clowes. "And your Excellency

will find more at Greenwood than mere meat and drink.

Come, squire, name your dame and Miss Janice to Sir

William. In playing quadrille to win, man, we never hold

back the queens."

All the horsemen uncovered to the ladies, as they were

introduced, and Howe uttered an admiring epithet as his eyes

fixed on the girl. "The Queen of Hearts scores, and the

game is won," he cried, bowing low to Janice. "Ho, Charles,

art as hot for the rebels as thou wert a moment since?"

"I still think the light horse had best be pushed, and

should be properly supported by the grenadiers."

"Nay, wait till Knyphausen comes up, and then we'll--"

"'T is no time to play a waiting game."

"Tush! Lord Cornwallis," replied Sir William, irritably.

"The infantry have done their twenty miles to-day. I'll not

jade my troops into the runaway state of the rebels. What

use to kill our men, when the rebellion is collapsing of

itself?" During all his argument the commander-in-chief

kept his eyes fixed on Janice.

"I can't but think--" began the earl.

"Come, come, man," interjected Howe, "we must n't

let the Whigs beat us by starvation. Must we, eh, Mr.

Meredith?"

"'T would be a sad end to all our hopes," assented the

squire. "And while we have to do with the rebels, let me

point out to ye the two most malignant in this town. There

stand the precious pair who have done more to foment disloyalty

than any other two men in the county." It is needless

to say that Mr. Meredith was pointing at Squire Hennion and

Bagby, who, more curiously than wisely, had lingered at the

tavern.

"He lies!" and "'T ain't so! shrieked Bagby and Hennion

in unison, and each began protestations of loyalty, which were

cut short by Sir William, who turned to Cornwallis and ordered

the two under arrest, pending further information.

"Now we'll see justice," chuckled the master of Greenwood,

gleefully. "If ye'll not pay interest on your debts, I'll pay

interest on mine--ay, and with a hangman's cord belike."

"But I signed a submission and oath, and here 's my

pardon," protested Bagby, producing the paper, an example

that Hennion imitated.

"Damn Campbell's carelessness!" swore Howe. "He

deals pardons as he would cards at piquet, by twos, without so

much as a look at their faces. A glance at either would have

shown both to be rapscallion Whigs. However, 't is done, and

not to be undone. Release them, but keep eye on each, and

if they give the slightest cause, to the guardhouse with them.

Now, Mr. Meredith."

"I must ask your Excellency's assistance to horse my coach,

and his Majesty owes me a pair not easy to match, stole by

your troops this very morning."

"Make note of it, Mr. Commissary, and see to it that Mr.

Meredith has the two returned, with proper compensation. And,

Charles, if the theft can be fixed, let the men have a hundred

stripes apiece. Unless a stop can be put to this plundering

and raping, we'll have a second rebellion on our hands."

Cornwallis shrugged his shoulders and issued the necessary

orders. Then horses being secured for the carriage, the

squire and dames, accompanied by the generals, set out for

Greenwood.

It was long past the customary dining hour when the house

was reached, and though Mrs. Meredith and Janice joined

Sukey and Peg in the hurried preparation of the meal, it

was not till after three that it could be announced. As a

consequence, before the men had tired of the Madeira, dark

had come. One unfortunate of the staff was therefore despatched

to order the regiments to bivouac for the night.

"Tell the commissaries to issue an extra ration of rum,"

directed Sir William, made generously minded by the generous

use of the wine. "And now, friend Lambert, let 's have in the

spirits, and if it but equal thy Madeira in quality we'll sing a Te

Deum and make a night of it."

Janice, at a call from the host, brought in the squat decanters;

and the general insisted, with a look which told his

admiration, that his first glass should be mixed by the girl.

"Nay, nay," he cried, checking her as she reached for the

loaf sugar." "Put it to thy lips, and 't will be sweeter than

any sugar can make it. Take but a sip and give us a toast

along with it." And the general caught at the girl's free hand

and tried to put his other arm about her waist.

"Oh, fie, Sir William!" called Clowes, too flushed with wine

to guard his tongue. "What will Mrs. Loring think of such

talk?"

"Think! Let her think what she may," retorted the general,

with a laugh. "Dost thou not know that woman is never

sweeter than when she is doubtful of her empire?"

Janice, with heightened colour and angry eyes, eluded Howe's

familiarities by a backward step, and, raising the glass, defiantly

gave, "Success to Washington!" Then, scared at her own

temerity, she darted from the room, in her fright carrying

away the tumbler of spirits. But she need not have fled, for

her toast only called forth an uproarious burst of laughter.

"I always said 't was a rebellion of petticoats," chuckled

Sir William. "And small blame to them when they sought

to tax their only drink. 'Fore George, I'd rebel myself if

they went to taxing good spirits unfairly. Ah, gentlemen,

after we have finished with Mr. Washington next week, what

sweet work 't will be to bring the caps to a proper submission!

No wonder Cornwallis is hot to push on and have done with

the men."

The morrow found Sir William no less inclined to tarry than

he had been the day before, and, using the plea that they

would await the arrival of Knyphausen's force, he sent orders

to the advance to remain bivouacked at Brunswick, much to

the disgust of Cornwallis, who was little mollified by the consent

he finally wrung from his superior to push forward the

Light Horse on a reconnoissance,--a task on which he at

once departed.

Thus rid of his disagreeable spur, the general settled down

before the parlour fire to a game of piquet with Clowes, not

a little to the scandalising of card-hating Mrs. Meredith.

Worse still to the mother, nothing would do Sir William but

for Janice to come and score for him, and it is to be confessed

that his attention was more devoted to the black of her eyes and

the red of her cheeks than it was to the same colours on the

cards. Three times he unguarded a king in the minor hand,

and twice he was capoted unnecessarily. As a result, the

baron won easily; but the gain in purse did not seem to

cheer him, for he looked discontented even as he pocketed

his winnings. And as every gallant speech his commander

made the girl had deepened this look, the cause for the feeling

was not far to seek.

Dinner eaten, the general, without leaving the table, lapsed

into gentle, if somewhat noisy, slumber; and his superior thus

disposed of for the moment, Clowes sought Janice, only to

find that two young fellows of the staff, having abandoned the

bottle before him, had the longer been enjoying her society.

He joined the group, but, as on the preceding evening, Janice

chose to ignore his presence. What he did not know was

something said before his entrance, which had much to do

with the girl's determination to punish him.

"Who is this person who is so intimate with Sir William?"

she had asked the staff secretary.

McKenzie gave his fellow-staffsman a quick glance which,

manlike, he thought the girl would not perceive. "He 's

commissary-general of the forces," he then replied.

Janice shrugged her shoulders. "Thank you for enlightening

my ignorance," she said ironically. "Let me add in payment

for the information that this is a spinet."

Again McKenzie exchanged a look with Balfour. The latter,

however, after a glance at the door, said, in a low voice:

"He 's no favourite with us; that you may be sure."

"He--Is he--Is Baron Clowes his true name?" Janice

questioned.

"More true than most things about him," muttered

McKenzie.

"Then he has another name?" persisted the girl.

"A half-dozen, no doubt," assented Balfour. "There are

dirty things to be done in every kind of work, Miss Meredith,

and there are always dirty men ready to do them. I'd not

waste thought on him. Knaves go to make up a complete

pack as much as kings, you know," he finished, as Lord Clowes

entered the room.

Cornwallis returned at nightfall, with word of the junction

of reinforcements; but, despite the news, it required all the

urgence of himself and Clowes to induce the commander-in-chief

to give the marching order for the next morning. Nor,

when the hour of departure came, was Howe less reluctant,

lingering over his adieux with his host and hostess, and especially

with their daughter, to an extent which set the earl

stamping with impatience and put a scowl on Clowes' face.

Even when the general was in the saddle, nothing would do

him but he must have a stirrup cup; and when this had been

secured, he demanded another toast of the girl.

"You gave Mr. Washington your good wishes last time, Miss

Janice, runaway though he was. Canst not give a toast for the

troops that don't run?" he pleaded.

Janice, with a roguish look in her eyes that boded no good

to the British, took the glass, and, touching it to her lips, said:

"Here 's to the army which never runs away, and which

never--" Then she paused, and caught her breath as if

wanting courage.

"Out with it! Complete the toast!" cried the general,

eagerly.

"And which never runs after!" ended Janice.

XXVIII

THE EBB-TIDE

Clowes lingered behind for a brief moment after the

departure of Howe, in pretended desire to advise

Mr. Meredith concerning the British policy about

provisions and forage, but in truth to say a word of

warning which proved that he already regretted having secured

for his commander-in-chief the entree of Greenwood.

"I heard Sir William say he'd bide with ye on his return

from Philadelphia," the commissary told the squire in parting.

"Have an eye to your girl, if he does. Though a married

man, his Excellency is led off by every lacing-string that

comes within reach."

The master of Greenwood privately thought that the precautionary

advice as to his daughter might come with better

grace from some other source; but both guest and host, for

reasons best known to each, had tacitly agreed to ignore the

past, and so the squire thanked his counsellor.

"Ye'll not forget to seek out my horses!" he added, when

the commissary picked up his bridle.

"Assuredly not," promised Clowes. "How many didst

say ye lost?"

"Two. All the Whig thieves left to me of the nine I had."

"Fudge, man! Say nothing of the Whig thieves, but lay

them all to our account. We've plunderers in plenty in our

own force, let alone the dirty pigs of Hessians, and King

George shall pay for the whole nine."

"Nay, Lord Clowes, because I've been robbed, I'll not

turn--" began the squire.

"What is more," went on the benevolently-inclined officer,

"I will tell ye something that will be worth many a pound.

'T was decided betwixt Sir William and myself that we should

seize all provisions and fodder throughout the province. But

I need scarce say--"

"Surely, man, thou wilt do nothing as crazy as that," burst

out Mr. Meredith. "Dost not see that it will make an enemy

of every man, from one end--"

"Which they are already," interrupted the baron, in turn.

"'T is our method of bringing punishment home to the scamps.

We'll teach them what rebellion comes to ere we have finished

with them. But, of course, such order does not extend to my

personal friends, and if ye have any fodder or corn, or anything

else ye can spare, I will see to it that his Majesty buys it at prices

that will more than make good to ye what ye lost through the

rebels."

The squire made a motion of dissent. "The Whig rascals

have swept my barn and storehouses so clean that I'll have to

buy for my own needs, and--"

"Then buy what ye can hereabout before we begin seizing,

and see to it that ye buy a good surplus which ye can sell to

us at a handsome advance. Our good king is a good pay-master,

and I'll show ye what it is to have a friend in the

commissariat." With this Clowes put spurs to his horse, confident

that he had more than offset any prejudice against him

that might still exist in Mr. Meredith's mind. None the less,

that individual stood for some moments on the porch with

knitted brows, gazing after the departing horseman and when

he finally turned to go into the house he gave a shake to his

head that seemed to express dissatisfaction.

Although Mr. Meredith did not act upon the commissary's

suggestion in securing a supply of provisions, there was quickly

no lack of food or forage at Greenwood. From the moment

that Brunswick was occupied by the British, every one of Mr.

Meredith's tenants, who for varying periods had refused to

pay rent, adopted a different course and wholly or in part

settled up the arrears owing. Most of them first endeavoured

to liquidate the claim in the Continental currency, now depreciated

through the desperation of the American cause to a

point that made it scarcely worth the paper on which its

pseudo-value was stamped. The squire, however, with many

a jeer and flout at each would-be payer for his folly in having

taken the money, and his still greater foolishness in expecting

to pay rent on leaseholds with it, declined to accept it. His

refusal of each tender, which indeed had been expected, was

usually followed by a second offer of payment in the form of

fodder or provisions, or "in kind," as the leases then expressed

it; and the moment the rumour went through the community

that the British were forcibly seizing provisions, every

farmer hastened to save his entire surplus by paying it to his

landlord.

Nothing better proved the hopeless outlook of the American

cause than the conduct of Esquire Hennion, for that worthy

rode to Greenwood, and after a vain attempt, like that of the

tenants, to pay in the worthless paper money the arrears of

interest on his mortgages, with a like refusal by Mr. Meredith,

he completely broke down, and with snivels and wails besought

his "dear ole friend" to be lenient and forbearing. "I made

a mistake, squire," he pleaded; "but I allus liked yer, an' Phil

he likes yer, an' naow yer're too ginerous ter push things too

far, I knows."

"Huh!" grunted the creditor. "I said I'd make ye cry

small, ye old trimmer. So it 's no longer to your interest to

pay principal, or your principle to pay interest, eh? No, I

won't push ye too far! I'll only turn ye out of Boxely and

let ye be farmed on the town as a pauper. If I had the dealing

with ye, ye'd be in the provost prison at York awaiting

trial as a traitor. And my generosity would run to just six

feet of rope."

Of the tide of war only vague rumours came back to the

non-combatants, until at noon, a week later, Sir William,

accompanied by two aides and an escort of dragoons, came

cantering up.

"In the king's name, dinner!" he cried cheerily, as he

shook the welcoming hand of the squire. "You see, Mr.

Meredith, we've forgot neither your loyalty nor your Madeira.

No, nor your dainty lass, either; and so we are here again to

levy taxation without representation on them all. 'T is to be

hoped, Mrs. Meredith, that 't will be met more kindly than

our Parliamentary attempt at the same game. Ah, Miss

Janice, your face is a pleasant sight to look at after the bleak

banks of the Delaware, at which we've been staring and

cursing for the last five days."

"We hoped to hear of ye as in Philadelphia before this,

Sir William," said the squire, so soon as they were seated at

the table.

"Ay, and so did we all; but Mr. Washington was too quick

and sharp for us. By the time we had reached Trenton, he

had got safely across the river, and had taken with him or

destroyed all the boats."

"Could ye not have forded the river higher up?"

"Cornwallis was hot for attempting something of the sort,

but sight of the ice-floes in the river served to cool him, so he

is going into winter quarters and will not stir from his cantonments

until spring, unless the river freeze strong enough for

him to cross on the ice."

"And what of the rebels?"

"'T is sudden gone so out of fashion there is scarce one

left. Washington has a few ragged troops watching us from

across the river; but, except for these, there 's not a man in

the land who will own himself one. How many pardons have

we issued in the Jerseys alone, Henry?" demanded the

general, appealing to his secretary.

"Nigh four thousand; and at Trenton and Burlington, Mr.

Meredith, the people are flocking in in such numbers that

over four hundred took the king's oath yesterday," responded

McKenzie.

"That shows how the wind holds, and what a summer's

squall the whole thing has been," answered the host, gleefully;

"I always said 't was a big windy bubble, that needed but the

prick of British bayonets to collapse."

"There'll be little left of it by spring, I doubt not," asserted

Howe. "In faith, we may take it as a providence

that we could not cross the Delaware, for a three-months will

probably put an end to all armed opposition, and we may

march into Pennsylvania with beating drums and flying colours.

Even Cornwallis himself confesses that time is playing our

game."

"Miss Meredith will be put to 't to find a new toast,"

suggested Balfour.

"Well spoke," laughed his superior. "What will it be, fair

rebel?"

"However," asserted Janice.

"Bravo!" vociferated the general. "Now indeed rebellion

is on its last legs. You make me regret I can tarry but the

meal, for when submission is so near 't is a pity not to stay

and complete it."

"Was that why you left the Delaware, your Excellency?"

asked Janice, archly.

The colour came flushing into Howe's cheeks, while both

father and mother spoke sharply to the girl for her boldness

and impertinence. But in a moment the general's good-nature

was once more in the ascendant, and he interfered to save her

from the scolding.

"Nay, nay," he interjected. "'T was but a proper retort to

my teasing. I left the Delaware, Miss Janice, because the

'Brune' frigate sails for England in three days, and there are

despatches to be writ and sent by her. And for the same

reason I can tarry here but another hour, much as I should

like to stay. Mr. Meredith, 't is a man's duty to aid a creditor

to pay his debts. May I not hope to see you and Mrs. Meredith

and Miss Janice at headquarters ere long? For if you

come not willingly, I'll put Miss Janice under arrest as an

arrant and avowed rebel, and have her brought to York under

guard."

The departure of these guests gave but a brief quiet to the

household, for two days later, at dusk, Clowes rode up, and his

coming was welcomed all the more warmly that his escort of

half a dozen dragoons led with them Joggles and Jumper.

"Have in, have in, man," cried the host, genially, "to where

there 's a fire and something to warm your vitals."

"Curse thy climate!" ejaculated the new-comer, as he

stamped and shook himself in the hallway, to rid his shoulders

and boots of their burden of snow. "The storm came on

after we started; and six hours it 's took us to ride from

Princeton, while the wind blew so I feared the cattle would

founder. But here 's warmth enough to make up for the

weather," he added, as he entered the parlour, all aglow with

the light of the great blazing logs, and of the brushwood and

corn-cobs which Janice had thrown on their top when the

horses had first been heard at the door. He shook Mrs.

Meredith's hand, and then extended his own to Janice, only

to have it ignored by her. In spite of this, and of an erect

attitude, meant to express both distance and haughtiness, her

flushed cheeks, and eyes that looked everywhere except into

those of the visitor, proved that the girl was not as unmoved as

she wished to appear.

"Where are thy manners, Jan?" reproved the father, who,

having declared an amnesty as regarded the past, forgot that

his daughter might not be equally forgiving.

"Give Mr.--Lord Clowes thy hand, child," commanded

her mother, sternly, "and place a seat for him by the fire."

Janice pulled one of the chairs nearer to the chimney

breast, and then returned to the quilting-frame, at which she

had been working when the interruption came.

"Didst hear me?" demanded Mrs. Meredith.

Janice turned and faced the three bravely, though her voice

trembled a little as she replied: "I will not shake his

hand."

"Yoicks! Here 's a kettle of fish!" ejaculated the commissary.

"What's wrong?"

"Janice, do as thou art told, or go to thy room," ordered

the mother.

The girl opened her lips as if about to protest, but courage

failed her, and she hurriedly left the parlour, and flying to her

room, she threw herself on the bed and wept out her sense of

wrong on her pillow.

"I never would have, if he had n't--and it was n't I asked

him to the house--and he took a mean advantage--and he

was n't scolded for it, nor shamed to all the people--and now

they show him every honour, though he--though for a year it

was held up to me."

Presently the girl became conscious of the clatter of knives

and forks on plates in the room beneath her, and of an accompaniment

of cheerful voices and laughter. Far from lessening

her woe, they only served to intensify it, till finally she rose in

a kind of desperation, wishing only to escape from the merry

sounds. "I'll go and see Clarion and Joggles and Jumper,"

she thought. "They love me, and--and they don't punish

me when others are to blame."

Not choosing to pass through the kitchen, where the dragoons

would probably be sitting, she stole out of the front door,

without wrap or calash, and in an instant was almost swept off

her feet and nearly blinded by the rush of wind and snow.

Heeding neither, nor the instant wetting of her slippered feet,

she struggled on through the waxing drifts to the stable door.

With a sigh of relief that the goal was attained, she passed

through the partly open doorway and paused at last, breathless

from her exertion.

On the instant she caught her breath, however, and

then demanded, "Who 's there?" A whinny from Joggles

was the only response. Taking no heed of the horse's greeting,

Janice stood, listening intently for a repetition of the

sound that had alarmed her. "I heard you," she continued,

after a moment. Then she gave a little cry of fright, which

was scarcely uttered when it was succeeded by a half-sob and

half-exclamation of mingled joy and relief. "Oh, Clarion!"

she exclaimed, "you gave me such a turn, with your cold nose.

And what was mommy's darling doing with the harness? I

thought some one was here."

Again Joggles whinnied, and, her fright entirely gone,

Janice walked to his stall. "Was my precious glad to get

back?" she asked, patting him on the back as she went into

the stall. "Why, my poor dear! Did they go to their supper

without even taking his saddle off? Well, he should--

and his bridle, too, so that he could n't eat his hay! 'T was a

shame, and--" Once again, Janice uttered an exclamation

of fright, as her fingers, moving blindly forward in search of

the buckle, came in contact with some cloth, under which she

felt a man's arm. Nor was her fright lessened, though she

did not scream, when instantly her arm in turn was seized

firmly. The unknown peril is always the most terrifying.

"I did not want to frighten you, Miss Janice--" began the

interloper.

"Charles!" ejaculated the girl. "I mean, Colonel Brereton."

"I thought you 'd scarcely come into the stall, and hoped

to get away undiscovered."

"But what are you--I thought you were across--How

did you get here?"

"I had business to the northward," explained the officer,

"and meant to have been in Bound Brook by this time. But

the cursed snow came on, and, not having travelled the westerly

roads, I thought best to keep to those with which I was

familiar, though knowing full well that I ran the risk of landing

in the arms of the British. Fortunately their troops are no

fonder of facing our American weather than our American

riflemen, and tucked themselves within doors, leaving it to

us--" There the aide checked his flow of words.

"But why did you come here?"

Brereton laughed. "Does not a runaway servant always

turn horse thief? My mare has covered near forty miles to-day,

the last ten of it in the face of this storm, and so I left her

at the Van Meter barn, and thought to borrow Joggles to ride

on to Morristown to do the rest." Colonel Brereton's hand,

which had continued on the girl's arm, relaxed its firm hold,

and slipped down till it held her fingers. "And then, I--I

wanted word of you, for the stories of Hessian doings that

come to us are enough to make any man anxious." Janice felt

his lips on her hand. "All is well with you?" he asked

eagerly, after the caress.

Janice, forgetful of her recent woe, answered in the affirmative,

as she tried to draw herself away. Her attempt only led

to the man's hand on hers tightening its grip. "I can't let you

go, Miss Janice, till you give me your word not to speak of this

meeting. They could scarce catch me such a night, but my

mission is too vital to take any risks."

"I promise," acceded Janice, readily.

Brereton let go her hand at once, and his fingers rattled the

bit, as he hastily completed the buckling the girl's entrance

had interrupted. "If I never return, you will claim your namesake,

my mare, Miss Janice," he suggested as he backed Joggles

out of the stall. "And treat her well, I beg you. She's

the one thing that has any love for me. God knows if I ever

see her again.

Forgetting that Brereton could not see her, Janice nodded

her head. "You are going for good?" she asked.

"I fear for anything but that! For good or bad, however,

I must ride my thirty miles to-night."

"Thirty miles!" cried Janice, with a shiver. "And your

hands are dreadfully cold, and your teeth chatter."

"'T is only the chill of inaction after hard and hungry riding.

Ten minutes of cantering will set the blood jumping

again."

"Can't you wait a moment while I get something for you to

eat?" besought the girl.

"Bless you for the thought," replied the aide, with a little

husk in his voice. "But my mission is too important to risk

delay, much more the nearness of yon dragoons."

"For what are you going?" questioned Janice.

"To order--to get the dice for a last desperate main."

"General Washington is going to try--?"

"Ay. Ah, Miss Janice, they have beaten our troops, but

they've still to beat our general, and if I can but make Lee--

I must not linger. Wilt give me a good-by and God-speed

to warm me on the ride?"

"Both," answered Janice, holding out her hand, which the

officer once again stooped and kissed. "And to-night I'll

pray for his Excellency.'

Brereton shoved open the door wide enough for the horse

to pass through. "And not for his Excellency's aide?" he

asked.

Janice laughed a little shyly as she replied: "Does not the

greater always include the lesser?"

Barely were the words spoken, when a sound from the outside

reached them, making both start and listen intently. It

needed but an instant's attention to resolve the approaching

noise into the jingle of bits and sabres.

"Hist!" whispered the officer, warningly. "Cavalry."

He threw back the holster-flap of the saddle to free a pistol,

and, grasping his scabbard to prevent it from clanking, he

stepped through the doorway, leading Joggles by the bridle.

"Ho, there!" came a voice out of the driving snow.

"We've lost sight and road. Which way is 't to Greenwood?"

Brereton put foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle.

"Away to the right," he responded, as he softly drew his

sabre, and slipped the empty scabbard between his thigh and

the saddle. Gathering up the reins, he wheeled Joggles to the

left.

"Can't ye give us some guidance, whoever ye be?" asked

the voice, now much nearer, while the sound of horses' breathing

and the murmur of men's voices proved that a considerable

party were struggling through the deepening snow. "Where

are you, anyway?'

Brereton touched Joggles with the spur gently, and the

steed moved forward. Not five steps had been taken before

the horse shied slightly to avoid collision with another, and,

in doing so, he gave a neigh.

"Here 's the fellow, Hennion," spoke up a rider. "Now

we'll be stabled quick enough." He reached out and caught

at the bridle.

There was a swishing sound, as Brereton swung his sword

aloft and brought it down on the extended arm. Using what

remained of the momentum of the stroke, the aide let the

flat of the weapon fall sharply on Joggles' flank; the horse

bounded forward, and, in a dozen strides, had passed through

the disordered troop.

A shrill cry of pain came from the officer, followed by a

dozen exclamations and oaths from the troopers, and then a

sharp order, "Catch or kill him!"

"Ha, Joggles, old boy," chuckled his rider, "there 's not

much chance of our being cold yet a while. But we know the

roads, and we'll show them a trick or two if they'll but stick

to us long enough."

Bang! bang! bang! went some horse-pistols.

"Shoot away!" jeered the aide, softly, though he leaned

low in the saddle as he wheeled through the small opening

in the hedge and galloped over the garden beds. "'T is only

British dragoons who'd blindly waste lead on a northeaster.

'T is lucky the snow took no offence at my curses of it an

hour ago."

XXIX

ON CONTINENTAL SERVICE

Once across the garden, the aide rode boldly, trusting

to the snow overhead to hide his doings and the

snow underfoot to keep them silent. Turning

northward, he kept Joggles galloping for five

minutes, then confident that his pursuers had been distanced,

or misled, he varied the pace, letting the horse walk where the

snow was drifted, but forcing him to his best speed where the

road was blown clear.

"We know the route up to Middlebrook, Joggles; but after

that we get into the hills, and blindman's work 't will be for

the two of us. So 't is now we must make our time, if we are

to be in Morristown by morning."

The rider spoke truly, for it was already six o'clock when he

reached the cross-roads at Baskinridge. Halting his horse at

the guide-post, he drew his sword and struck the crosspiece a

blow, to clear it of its burden of snow.

"Morristown, eight miles," he read in the dark grayness of

approaching day. "Hast go enough in thee left to do it, old

fellow? Damn Lee for his tardiness and folly, which forces

man and beast to journey in such cold." Pulling a flask from

his pocket, he uncorked it. "There's scarce a drop left, but

thou shouldst have half, if it would serve thee," he said, as he

put it to his lips and drained it dry. "'T is the last I have,

and eight miles of Lee way still to do!" He laughed at his

own pun, and pricked up the horse. Just as the weary animal

broke into a trot, the rider pulled rein once more and looked

up at a signboard which had attracted his notice by giving a

discordant creak as the now dying storm swung it.

"A tavern! Here 's luck, for at least we can get some more

rum." Spurring the horse up to the door, he pulled a pistol

from its holster and pounded the panel noisily.

It required more than one repetition of the blows to rouse

an indweller, but finally a window was enough raised to permit

the thrusting out of a becapped head.

"Who's below, and what do yez want?" it challenged

gruffly.

"Never mind who I am. I want a pint of the best spirits

you have, and a chance to warm myself for a ten minutes, if

you've a spark of fire within."

"Oi've nothin' for anny wan who comes routin' me out av

bed at such an hour, an' may the devil fly off wid yez for that

same," growled the man. "Go away wid yez, an' niver let me

see yez more."

The head was already drawn in, when Brereton, with quick

readiness, called lustily: "Do as I order, or I'll have my

troopers break in the door, and then look to yourself."

"Just wan minute, colonel," cried the man, in a very different

tone; and in less than the time asked for the bolts were

slipped back and the door was opened by a figure wrapped in

a quilt, which one hand drew about him, while the other held

a tallow dip aloft.

In the brief moment it took to do this, the officer not so

much dismounted as tumbled from his horse, and he now

walked stiffly into the public room, stamping his feet to lessen

their numbness.

"Where 's thim troopers yez was talkin' av?" questioned

the landlord, peering out into the night.

"Throw some wood on those embers, and give me a drink

of something, quickly," ordered Brereton, paying no heed to

the inquiry.

"Bad 'cess to yea lies," retorted the man, shutting the door.

"It's not wan bit av firing or drink yez get this night from--

Oh, mother in hivin, don't shoot, an' yez honour shall have the

best in the house, an' a blessin' along wid it! Only just point

it somewheer else, darlin', for thim horse-pistols is cruel fond

av goin' off widout bein' fired. Thank yez, sir, it 's my wife

in bed will bless the day yez was born." The man hastily

raked open the bed of ashes and threw chips and billets on

the embers. Then he unlocked a corner cupboard. "Oi've

New England rum, corn whiskey, an' home-made apple-jack,

sir."

"Give me the latter, and if you've any food, let me have

it. Brrrew! From nigh Brunswick I've rid since nine last

night and thought to perish a dozen times with the cold, dismount

and run beside my horse as I would."

"Drop that pistol, or I shoot!" came a sharp order,

spoken from the gloom of a doorway across the room.

"You are a prisoner."

Brereton had been stooping over the fire, as it gained fresh

life, but with one spring he was behind the chimney breast.

"'T is idle to resist," persisted the hidden speaker. "The

way is barred in both directions, and there are three of us."

Brereton laughed recklessly. "Come on, most courageous

three. I've a bullet for one, and a sword for two."

"Howly hivin! just let me out first off," besought the

publican.

"If I had lead to spare, you should have the first of it

for letting me into this trap," Brereton told him viciously.

"Why did you not warn me there were British hereabout?"

"Hold!" came the distant voice. "If you think us

British, who are you?"

The officer hesitated, pondering on the possibility of being

tricked, or of possibly tricking. "If you were a gentleman,"

he said, after a pause, "you 'd give me a hint as to which side

you belong."

The unseen man laughed heartily at Jack's reply. "Set me

an example, then."

"That I will," said Jack, "though I don't guarantee the

truth of it. I am an aide of General Washington, riding on

public service.

"Time enough it took you to know it. And if so, what

were you doing near Brunswick?"

"I took the route I knew best."

"Thy name is?"

"Jack Brereton."

"Art thou a green-eyed, carrot-faced put, who frights all

the women with his ill looks?" cried the man, entering.

Brereton laughed as he stepped out from the sheltering

projection. "Switch you, whoever you are, for keeping me

from the fire when I am chilled to the marrow. Why, Eustace,

this is luck beyond belief! But hast swallowed a frog?

You croak so that I knew you not."

"Not I," responded the new-comer, shaking his fellow-officer's

hand, "but I swallowed enough of yesterday's storm to

spoil my voice, let alone this creeping out of bed in shirt only,

to catch some malignant Tory or spy of King George."

"Where art thy comrades?" inquired Brereton, peering

past the major.

Eustace laughed. "They 're making acquaintance with

thy troop of horse."

"But what art thou doing here in this lonely hostel, with a

British force no further away than Springfield? Dost court

capture?"

"Just what I told the general when he said he'd bide here

till--"

"The general!" interrupted Brereton. "Is Lee here--in

this tavern?"

"Ay. And sleeping through all the rout you made as

sound--"

"'T is madness! However, I'll not throw blame, for it

has saved me eight miles of weary riding. Wake him at

once, as I must have word with him. And you, landlord,

stable my horse, and see to it that he has both hay and oats

in plenty."

There was some delay before Eustace returned with the

word that the major-general would see the aide, and with

what ill grace the interview was granted was shown by the

reception, for on Brereton being ushered into the room, it was

to find Lee still in bed, and so far under the counterpane that

only the end of a high-coloured but very much soiled nightcap

was in view, while on the top of the covering lay two dogs,

who rose with the entrance of the interloper.

"Who the devil are ye; why the devil did ye have me

waked; and what the devil do ye want?" was the greeting,

grumbled from the bedclothes.

Brereton flushed as he answered sharply: "Eustace has no

doubt told you who I am, and letters from his Excellency must

have already broke the purport of my mission. Finding you

paid no heed to his written orders, he has sent me with verbal

ones, trusting your hearing may not be as seriously defective

as your eyesight."

The head of the general appeared, as he sat up in bed. "Is

this a message from General Washington?" he vociferated.

"No. 'T is my own soft speaking, in recognition of your

complaisant welcome. But I bear a message of his Excellency.

He directs that you march the entire force under you,

without delay, by way of Bethlehem and Easton, and effect a

junction with him."

"To what end?"

"The British think us so bad beat, and are so desirous

to hold a big territory, for purposes of forage and plunder,

that they have scattered their troops beyond supporting distance.

Can we but get a force together sufficient to attack

Burlington, Trenton, or Princeton, 't will be possible to beat

them in detail."

"I have a better project than that," asserted Lee. "Let

Washington but make a show of activity on the Delaware, and

he shall hear of my doings shortly."

"But what better can be done than to drive them back

from a country rich with food supplies, relieve the dread of

their advancing upon Philadelphia, and give the people a

chance to rally to us?" protested the aide.

"Pooh!" scoffed Lee. "'T is pretty to talk of, but 't is

another thing to bring it off, and I make small doubt that

't will be no more successful than the damned ingenious

manoeuvres of Brooklyn and Fort Washington, which have

unhinged the goodly fabric we had been building. I tell you

we shall be in a declension till a tobacco-hoeing Virginian, who

was put into power by a trick, and who has been puffed up

to the people as a great man ever since, is shown to be most

damnably weak and deficient. He 's had his chance and

failed; now 't is for me to repair the damage he's done."

Brereton clinched his fist and scowled. "Do I understand

that you refuse to obey the positive orders of his Excellency?"

"'T is necessary in detachment to allow some discretion to

the commanding officer. However, I'll think on it after

I've finished the sleep you've tried to steal." The general

dropped back on the pillows, and drew up the bedclothes so

as to cover his nose.

The aide, muttering an oath, stamped noisily out of the

room, slamming the door with a bang that rattled every window

in the house.

"I read failure in your face," remarked Eustace, still

crouched before the fire.

"Failure!" snapped the scowling man, as he, too, stooped

over the blaze. "Nothing but failure. Here, when the

people have been driven frantic by the outraging of their

women and the plundering of their property, and want but

the smallest encouragement to rise, one man dishes all our

hopes by his cursed ambition and disobedience."

"How so?"

Too angry to control himself, even to Lee's aide, Jack continued

his tirade. "Ever since the general was put into office

his subordinates have been scheming to break him down, and

in Congress there has always been a party against him, who,

through dislike or incapacity, clog all he advises or asks. With

the recent defeats, the plotters have gained courage to speak

out their thoughts, and your general goes so far as to refuse to

obey orders that would make possible a brilliant stroke, because

he knows that 't would stop this clack against his

Excellency. Instead, he would have Washington sit passive

and freezing on the Delaware while he steals the honours by

some attempted action. And all the while he is writing to his

Excellency letters signed, 'Yours most affectionately,' or 'God

bless you,'--cheap substitutes for the three thousand troops

he owes us." The aide went to the cupboard and helped

himself to the apple-jack. "Canst get me a place to sleep,

for God knows I'm tired?"

"Thou shalt have my bed, and welcome to thee," offered

Eustace, leading the way upstairs. "Thou'lt not mind my

getting into my clothes, for 't is not shirt-tail weather."

"Sixty miles and upward I've come since five o'clock yesterday

morning, and I'd agree to sleep under a field-piece in

full action." Brereton took off his cap and wig to toss both

on the floor, unbuckled his belt, and let his sabre fall noisily;

then sitting on the bed, he begged, "Give me a hand with my

boots, will you?" Those pulled off without rising he rolled

over, and, bundling the disarranged bedclothes about him, he

was instantly asleep.

It was noon before consciousness returned to the tired body,

and only then because the clatter of horses' feet outside waked

the sleeper and startled him so that he sprang from the bed

to the window. Relieved by the sight of Continental uniforms,

Brereton stretched himself as if still weary, and felt certain

muscles, to test their various degrees of soreness, muttering

complaints as he did so. Throwing aside his jacket, waistcoat,

and shirt, he took his sword and pried out the crust of

ice on the water in the tin milk-pail which stood on the wash-stand.

Swashing the ice-cold water over his face and shoulders,

he groaned a curse or two as the chill sent a shiver

through him. But as he rubbed himself into a glow, he became

less discontented, and when resuming the flannel shirt,

he laughed. "Thank a kind God that it 's as cold to the

British as 't is to us, and there are more of them to suffer."

Another moment served to don his outer clothing and boots,

and to fit on his wig and sword. His toilet made, he went

downstairs, humming cheerily. He turned first to the kitchen

door, drawn thither by the smell that greeted his nostrils.

"Canst give a bestarved man a big breakfast and quickly?"

he asked the woman.

"Shure, Oi've all Oi can do now," was the surly response,

"wid the general an' his staff; an' his escort, an' thim as is

comin' an' goin', an'--"

Brereton came forward. "Ye 'd niver let an Oirishman go

hungry," he appealed, putting a brogue on his tongue.

"Arrah, me darlin', no maid wid such lips but has a kind

heart." The officer boldly put his hand under the woman's

chin and made as if he would kiss her. Then, as she eluded

the threatened blandishment, he continued, "Sure, and do ye

call yeself a woman, that ye starve a man all ways to wanst?"

"Ah, go long wid yez freeness and yez blarney," retorted

the woman, giving him a shove, though smiling.

"An', darlin'," persisted the unabashed officer, "it's owin'

me somethin' ye do, for it was meself saved yez father's life

this very morning."

"My father--shure, it 's dead he's been this--It 's my

husband yez must be afther spakin' av."

"He 's too old to be that same," flattered Brereton.

"'T is he, Oi make shure," acknowledged the woman, as

she nevertheless set her apron straight and smoothed her

hair. "An' how did yez save his loife?"

"Arrah, by not shooting him, as I was sore tempted to do."

The landlady melted completely and laughed. "An' what

would yez loike for breakfast?" she asked.

Brereton looked at the provisions spread about. "Just give

me four fried eggs wid bacon, an' two av thim sausages, an

corn bread, wid something hot to drink, an' if that 's buckwheat

batter in the pan beyant, just cook a dozen cakes or so,

for I've a long ride to take an' they do be so staying. Also,

if ye can make me up something--ay, cold sausages an'

hard-boiled eggs, if ye've nothing else, to take wid me; an'

then a kiss, to keep the heart warm inside av me, 't is wan

man ye'll have given a glimpse av hivin."

"Bless us all!" marvelled Eustace, when twenty minutes

later he entered the kitchen, to learn what delayed the general's

lunch. "How came you by such a spread, when it 's

all any of us can do to get enough to keep life in us? Is 't

sorcery, man?"

"No, witchery," laughed the aide. "If thy chief were but

a woman, Eustace, I'd have Washington reinforced within a

two days."

His breakfast finished, the aide secured pen and paper, and

wrote a formal order for Lee to march. This done, he sought

the general, and, interrupting a consultation he was holding

with General Sullivan, he delivered the paper into his hands.

"I ask General Sullivan to witness that I deliver you positive

instructions to march your force, to effect a junction with

General Washington."

"I've already writ him a letter that will convince him I act

for the best," answered Lee, holding out the missive.

The aide took it without a word, saluted, and left the room.

Going to the front door, where Joggles already awaited him,

he put a Continental bill into the hands of the publican, bade

adieu to Eustace, and rode away.

"'T is as bright a day as 't was dark a night, old man," he

said to the horse, "but it never looked blacker for the cause,

and I've had my long ride for nothing. Perhaps, though,

there may be pay day coming. She knows that I'm to be

at Van Meter's barn to-night. What say you, Joggles? Think

you will she be there?"

XXX

SOME DOINGS BY STEALTH

The sound of shots outside put a sudden termination

to the supper in both the dining-room and kitchen

of Greenwood, and served to bring inmates and

candles to the front and back doors. Beyond the

moment's rush of a body of horsemen past the house, no light

on the interruption was obtained, until some of the escort of

Clowes were despatched to the stable to learn if all was well with

their horses. There they found the wounded man stretched on

the snow, and just within the doorway lay Janice in a swoon,

with Clarion licking her face. Both were carried to the house,

and while Mrs. Meredith and the sergeant endeavoured to save

the officer by a rude tourniquet, the squire held Janice's head

over some feathers which Peg burned in a bed-warmer.

"Did they kill him?" was the first question the girl asked,

when the combined stench and suffocation had revived consciousness.

"He 's just expiring," her father replied. "His arm was

struck off above the elbow, and he bleeds like a stuck pig."

Janice staggered up, though somewhat languidly. "May--

"Did he ask to see me?"

"Not he," she was told. "Come, lass, sit quiet for a bit

till thy head is steady, and tell us what 't was all about."

Janice sank into the chair her father set beside the fire.

"He was on some mission for his Excellency," she gasped, "and

stopped here to get a fresh horse--that was how I came to

know it--and while we were talking we heard the dragoons coming,

so he mounted, to escape. Then I heard a cry--oh! such

a cry--and the pistols--and--and--that 's all I remember."

"Why went he to the stable rather than to the house in the

first case?" demanded her father.

Janice looked surprised. "He knew the troopers were

here," she explained.

The squire was about to speak, when Clowes' hand on his

shoulder checked him. "There's more here than we understand,"

the latter whispered. "Let me ask the questions."

He came to the fire and said:--

"Why did he take this route, if he was bearing despatches?"

The first sign of colour came creeping back into the pale

cheeks of the girl, as she recalled the double motive the aide

had given. "Colonel Brereton said he did not know the

westerly roads, and so--"

"Colonel Brereton!" rapped out her father. "And what

was he doing hereabout? Plague take the scamp that he must

be forever returning to worry us!"

"How much of a force had he with him?" asked the commissary.

"He was alone," replied Janice.

"Alone!" exclaimed the baron, incredulously; then his

face lost its look of surprise. "He came by stealth to see you,

There was enough truth in the supposition to destroy the

last visible signs of the girl's swoon, and she responded over-eagerly:

"I told you he was on a mission for his Excellency,

and but stopped here to get a fresh horse."

"Ay," growled the squire, "he steals himself, then steals my

crop, and now turns horse thief."

"He was not stealing, dadda," denied Janice. "His own

horse was tired, so he left her and said he'd return Joggles some

time to-morrow evening."

Clowes whistled softly, as he and the squire exchanged

glances. Just as the former was about to resume his questioning,

the sound of the front door being violently thrown open

gave him pause, and the next instant Phil hurriedly entered

the room.

"The troopers at the stable say ye found Captain Boyde.

Is he bad hurt?" he demanded.

"To the death," spoke up the squire, for once missing the

commissary's attempt to keep him silent. "Hast caught

Brereton?"

Janice had sprung to her feet and now stood listening, with

a half-eager, half-frightened look.

"Brereton!" cried Philemon. "Did he head the party?"

The growing complexity was too much for the patience of

the simple-minded owner of Greenwood. "May Belza have us

all," he fumed, "if I can see the bottom or even the sides of

this criss-cross business. Just tell us a straight tale, lad, if we

are not to have the jingle brains."

"'T is a swingeing bad business," groaned Phil. "Our troop

rode over from Princeton ter-day, an' the houses at Brunswick

bein' full of soldiers, I tells 'em that we could find quarters

here. We was gropin' our way when the enemy set upon us,

an' in the surprise cuts down the captain, an' captures three of

our men."

"Dost mean to say ye let one man kill your captain and

take three of ye prisoners?" scoffed the squire.

"One man!" protested the dragoon. "Think you one man

could do that?"

"Janice insists that there was but Brereton--but Charles

Fownes, now a rebel colonel."

"You may lay ter it there was mor'n--" Then Philemon

wavered, for the sight of the flushed, guilty look on the

girl's face gave a new bent to his thoughts. "What was

he here for?" he vociferated, growing angrily red as he

spoke and striding to the fire. "So he's doin' the

Jerry Sneak about you yet, is he? I tell you, squire, I won't

have it."

"Keep thy blustering and bullying for the mess-room and

the tavern, sir," rebuked Clowes, sharply, also showing temper.

"What camp manners are these to bring into gentlemen's

houses and exhibit in the presence of ladies?"

"'S death, sir," retorted Phil, hotly, "I take my manners

from no man, nor--"

"Hoighty, toighty!" chided Mrs. Meredith, entering. "Is

there not wind enough outside but ye must bellow like mad

bulls within?"

"Ay," assented the squire, "no quarrelling, gentlemen, for

we've other things to set to. Phil, there is no occasion to go

off like touchwood; 't is not as thee thinks. What is true,

however, is that we've a chance to catch this same rogue of a

Brereton, if we but lay heads together."

"Oh, dadda!" expostulated Janice. "You'll not--for I

promised him to tell nothing--and never would have spoken

had I not been dazed--and thinking him dead. I should

die of--"

"Fudge, child!" retorted Mr. Meredith. "We'll have no

heroics over a runaway redemptioner who is fighting against

our good king. Furthermore, we must know all else he told

ye."

"I passed him my promise to keep secret--"

"And of that I am to be judge," admonished the parent.

"Dost think thyself of an age to act for thyself? Come: out

with it; every word he spake."

"I'll not break my faith," rejoined Janice, proudly, her eyes

meeting her father's bravely, though the little hands trembled

as she spoke, half in fright and half in excitement.

"Nay, Miss Janice, ye scruple foolishly," advised Lord

Clowes. "Remember the old adage, that 'A bad promise, like

a good cake, is better broken than kept.'"

"'Children, obey thy parents in the Lord, for this is right,'"

quoted Mrs. Meredith, sternly.

"God never meant for me to lie--and that 's what you

would have me do."

The squire stepped into the hail, and returned with his riding-whip.

"Thou 'rt a great girl to be whipped, Janice," he

announced; "but if thou 'rt not old enough to obey, thou 'rt

not too old for a trouncing. Quickly, now, which wilt thou

have?"

"You can kill me, but I'll keep my word," panted the

maiden, while shaking with fear at her resistance, at the threatened

punishment, and still more at the shame of its publicity.

Forgetful of everything in his anger, the squire strode toward

his daughter to carry out his threat. Ere he had crossed the room,

however, to where she stood, his way was barred by Philemon.

"Look a-here, squire," the officer remonstrated, "I ain't

a-goin' ter stand by and see Janice hit, no ways, so if there 's

any thrashin' ter be done, you've got ter begin on me."

"Out of my way!" roared Mr. Meredith.

Phil folded his arms. "I've said my say," he affirmed, shaking

his head obstinately; "and if that ain't enough, I'll quit

talkin' and do something."

"The boy 's right, Meredith," assented Clowes. "Nor do

we need more of her. Send the girl to bed, and then I'll

have something to say."

Reluctantly the squire yielded; and Janice, with glad tears in

her eyes, turned and thanked Philemon by a glance that meant

far more than any words. Then she went to her room, only

to lie for hours staringly awake, listening to the wild whirring

and whistling of the wind as she bemoaned her unintentional

treachery to the aide, and sought for some method of warning

him.

"I must steal away to-morrow to the Van Meters' barn at

nightfall," was her conclusion, "and wait his coming, to tell him

of my--of my mistake, for otherwise he may bring Joggles

back and be captured. If I can only do it without being discovered,

for dadda--" and the anxious, overwrought, tired

girl wept the rest of the sentence into her pillow.

Meantime, in the room below, Lord Clowes unfolded his plan

and explained why he had wished the maiden away.

"'T is obvious thy girl has an interest in this fellow," he surmised,

"and so 't is likely she will try to-morrow evening to see

him, or get word to him. Our scheme must therefore be to let

her go free, but to see to 't that we know what she's about,

and be prepared to advantage ourselves by whatever comes to

pass."

The storm ceased before the winter daylight, and with the

stir of morning came information concerning the missing dragoons:

the body of one was found close to the stable, with a

bullet in his back, presumably a chance shot from one of his

comrades; a second rode up and reported himself, having in

the storm lost his way, and wellnigh his life, which he owed

only to the lucky stumbling upon the house of one of the tenants;

and Clarion discovered the third, less fortunate than his

fellow, frozen stiff within a quarter of a mile of Greenwood.

"'T is most like that rebel colonel and horse-thief shared the

same fate, for 't was a wild night," remarked Clowes at the

breakfast table. "Howbeit, 't will be best to have some troops

hid in your stable against this evening, for he may have weathered

the storm."

The morning meal despatched, Philemon rode over to Brunswick

to report the death of his superior to the colonel, as well

as to unfold the trap they hoped to spring, and Harcourt considered

the news so material that he and Major Tarleton accompanied

Philemon on his return. After a plentiful justice to the

dinner and to the decanters, the men, as the early winter darkness

came on, settled down to cards, while Mrs. Meredith, in

mute protest against the use of the devil's pictures, left the

room, summoned Peg, and in the garret devoted herself to the

mysteries of setting up a quilting-frame. As for the dragoons,

they sprawled and lounged about the kitchen, playing cards or

toss, and grumbling at the quantity and quality of the Greenwood

brew of small beer, till Sukey was wellnigh desperate.

Had Janice been older and more experienced, the very unguardedness

would have aroused her suspicions. To her it

seemed, however, but the arrangement of a kind destiny, and

not daring to risk a delay till after tea, when conditions might not

again so favour her, she left the work she had sat down to in the

parlour after dinner, and tiptoeing through the hall, lest she

should disturb the card-players in the squire's office, she secured

her warmest wrap. Returning to the parlour, she softly raised

a window, and, slipping out, in another moment was within the

concealing hedge-row of box.

Speeding across the garden, the girl crept through a break in

the hedge, then, stooping low, she followed a stone wall till the

road was reached. No longer in sight of the house, she hurried

on boldly, till within sight of the Van Meter farm. She skirted

the house at a discreet distance and stole into the barn.

With a glance to assure herself that the mare was still there,

and a kindly pat as she passed, she mounted into the mow,

where for both prudence and warmth she buried herself deep in

the hay. Then it seemed to Janice that hours elapsed, the sole

sounds being the contented munching of horses and cattle,

varied by the occasional stamp of a hoof.

Suddenly the girl sat up, with a realising sense that she had

been asleep, and with no idea for how long. A sound below

explained her waking, and as she listened, she made out the noise

to be that of harnessing or unharnessing. Creeping as near the

edge of the mow as she dared, she peered over, but all was

blackness.

"Colonel Brereton?" she finally said.

A moment's silence ensued before she had an answer, though

it was eager enough when it came. "Is 't you, Miss Janice,

and where are you?"

The girl came down the ladder and moved blindly toward

the stalls. As she did so, somebody came in contact with her;

instantly she was enfolded by a pair of arms, and before she

could speak she felt a man's eager lips first on her cheek, and

next on her chin.

"Heaven bless you for coming, my darling," whispered

Brereton.

Janice struggled to free herself as Brereton tried to caress

her the third time. "Don't," she protested. "You--I--

How dare you?"

"A pretty question to ask an ardent lover and a desperate

man, whose beloved confesses her passion by coming to him!"

"I didn't!" expostulated the girl, as, desperate with mortification,

she broke away from the embrace by sheer strength

and fled to the other side of the barn. "How dare you think

such things of me?"

"Then for what came you?" inquired Jack.

"To warn you."

"Of what?"

"That you must not bring Joggles back, for they--the

soldiers--are watching the stable."

"You told them?"

The girl faltered, hating to acknowledge her mistake, now

that it was remedied. "If I had, why should I take the risk

and the shame of coming here?" she replied.

"Forgive me, Miss Janice, for doubting you, and for my

freedom just now. I did--for the moment I thought you

like other women. I wanted to think you came to me, even

though it cheapened you. And being desperate, I--"

"Why?" questioned the girl.

"I have failed in my mission, thanks to Lee's folly and

selfishness. Would to God the troopers who lie in wait for

me would go after him! A quick raid would do it, for he lies

eight miles from his army, and with no guard worth a thought.

There 'd be a fine prize, if the British did but know it."

"Thanks for the suggestion," spoke up a deep voice, and at

the first word blankets were tossed off two lanterns, followed

by a rush of men. For a moment there was a wild hurly-burly,

and then Brereton's voice cried, "I yield!"

As the confusion ended as suddenly as it had begun, he

added scornfully:--

"To treachery!"

XXXI

AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS

The prisoner's arms were hurriedly tied and he

was mounted behind one of the troopers. Janice,

meanwhile, who had been seized by Philemon

and drawn to one side out of the struggle, besought

permission of her special captor to speak to Brereton, her

fright over the surprise and her dread of what was to come

both forgotten in the horror and misery the last words of the

aide caused her. The jealousy of the lover, united to the

strictness of the soldier, made Philemon heedless of her

prayers and tears, and finally, when the cavalcade was ready

to start, she was forced to mount her namesake, and, with such

seat as she could keep in the man's saddle, ride between

Colonel Harcourt and Hennion.

No better fortune awaited her at Greenwood, the captive

being taken to the kitchen, while the culprit was escorted to

the parlour, to stand, shivering, frightened, and tearful, as her

father and mother berated her for most of the sins of the

Decalogue.

Fortunately for the maid, other hearts were not so sternly

disapproving; and Lord Clowes, after waiting till the girl's

distress was finding expression in breathless sobs, in order

that she might be the more properly grateful, at last interfered.

"Come, come, squire," he interjected, crossing to the

bowed form, and taking one of Janice's hands consolingly, "the

lass has been giddy, but 't is an ill wind, truly, for through it

we have one fine bird secured yonder, to say nothing of an

even bigger prize in prospect. Cry a truce, therefore, and

let the child go to bed."

"Ay, go to thy room, miss," commanded Mrs. Meredith,

who had in truth exhausted her vocabulary, if not her wrath.

"A pretty hour 't is for thee to be out of bed, indeed!"

Janice, conscious at the moment of but one partisan, turned

to the baron. "Oh, please," she besought, "may n't I say

just one word to Colonel Brereton--just to tell him that I

didn't--"

"Hast not shamed us enough for one night with thy stolen

interviews?" ejaculated her mother. "To thy room this

instant

Made fairly desperate, Janice was actually raising her head

to protest, when Harcourt and Philemon entered.

"One moment, madam," intervened the colonel. "I have

been plying our prisoner with questions, and have some to

ask of your daughter. Now, Miss Meredith, Lee's letter, that

we found on the prisoner, has told us all we need, but we

want to test the prisoner's statements by yours. Look to it

that you speak us truly, for if we find any false swearing or

quibbling, 't will fare ill with you." Then for three or four

minutes the officer examined the girl concerning her first

interview with the rebel officer, seeking to gain additional information

as to Lee's whereabout. Finding that Janice really

knew nothing more than had been overheard in the Van

Meter barn, he ended the examination by turning to Philemon

and saying:--

"Sound boots and saddles, Lieutenant Hennion. You can

guide us, I take it, to this tavern from which General Lee

writes?"

"That I kin," asserted Phil, "though 't will be a stiff

ride ter git there afore morning."

As the two officers went toward the door Janice made her

petition anew. "Colonel Harcourt, may I have word with

Colonel--with the prisoner, that he shall not think 't was my

treachery?" she pleaded.

"I advise agin it, Colonel Harcourt," interjected Philemon,

his face red with some emotion. "That prisoner's a sly,

sneaky tyke, and--"

"Get the troop mounted, Mr. Hennion," commanded his

superior. "Mr. Meredith, I leave our captive in charge of a

sergeant and two troopers, with orders that if I am not back

within twenty-four hours he be taken to Brunswick. Whether

we succeed or fail in our foray, Sir William shall hear of the

service you have been to us." Unheeding Janice's plea, the

colonel left the room, and a moment later the bugle sounded

in quick succession, "To horse," "The march," and "By

fours, forward."

Interest in the departing cavalry drew the elders to the

windows, and in this preoccupation Janice saw her opportunity

to gain by stealth what had been denied her. Slipping silently

from the parlour, she sped through hall and dining-room, pausing

only when the kitchen doorway was attained, her courage

wellnigh gone at the thought that the aide might refuse to

believe her protestations of innocence. Certainty that she

had but a moment in which to explain prevented hesitancy,

and she entered the kitchen.

The two troopers were already stretched at full length on

the floor, their feet to the fire, while the sergeant sat by the

table, with a pitcher of small beer and a pipe to solace his

particular hours of guard mount over the prisoner. The latter

was seated near the fire, his arms drawn behind him by a rope

which passed through the slats of the chair back. So far as

these fetters would permit, Brereton was slouched forward,

with his chin resting on his chest in a most break-neck attitude,

sound asleep. There could be no doubt about it, beyond

credence though it was to the girl! While she had been

miserably conceiving the officer as ablaze with wrath at her,

he, with the philosophy of the experienced soldier, had lost

not a moment in getting what rest he could after his forty-eight

hours of hard riding.

Such callousness was to Janice a source of indignation, and

as she debated whether she should wake the slumberer and

make her explanation, or punish his apathy by letting him

sleep, Mrs. Meredith's voice calling her name in a not-to-be-misunderstood

tone turned the balance, and, flying up the

servants' stairway, Janice was able to answer her mother's

third call from her own room. Worn out by excitement,

worry, and physical fatigue, the girl, like the soldier, soon

found oblivion from both past and future.

It was well toward morning when a finish was made to the

night's doings, and the early habits of the household were for

once neglected to such an extent that the dragoons at last lost

patience and roused Peg and Sukey with loudly shouted demands

for breakfast,--a racket which served to set all astir once more.

With the conclusion of the morning meal, Janice rose from

the table and went toward the kitchen,--an action which at

once caused Mrs. Meredith to demand: "Whither art thou

going, child?"

Facing about, the girl replied with some show of firmness:

"'T is but fair that Colonel Brereton should know I had no

hand in his captivation; and I have a right to tell him so."

"Thou shalt do nothing of the sort," denied Mrs. Meredith.

"Was not thy conduct last evening indelicate enough, but

thou must seek to repeat it?"

Janice, with her hand on the knob, began to sob. "'T is

dreadful," she moaned, "after his doing what he did for us

at York, and later, that he should think I had a hand in his

capture."

"Tush, Jan!" ejaculated the squire, fretfully, the more that

his conscience had already secretly blamed him. "No gratitude

I owe the rogue, if both sides of the ledger be balanced.

'T is he brought about the scrape that led to my arrest."

"Ay," went on Mrs. Meredith, delighted to be thus supported,

"I have small doubt thy indelicacy with him will land

us all in prison. Such folly is beyond belief, and came not

from my family, Mr. Meredith," she added, turning on her

husband.

"Well, well, wife; all the folly in the lass scarce comes

from my side, for 't is to be remembered that ye were foolish

enough to marry me," suggested the squire, placably, his anger

at his daughter already melted by the sight of her distress.

"Don't be too stern with the child; she is yet but a filly."

"Thee means but a silly," snapped Mrs. Meredith, made the

more angry by his defence of the girl. "Men are all of a

piece, and cannot hold anger if the eyes be bright, or the waist

be slim," she thought to herself wrathfully, quite forgetful of

the time when that very tendency in masculine kind had been

to her one of its merits. "Set to on the quilt, girl, and see to

it that there's no sneaking to the kitchen."

Scarcely had Janice, obedient to her mother's behest, seated

herself at the big quilting-frame, when Lord Clowes joined her.