"I had begun to fear me that I had been misinformed and

that ye and your mother were not hereabout," the squire began;

"so 't is indeed a joy to find ye safe." And then, after

Mrs. Meredith had been roused, he explained his presence.

"Though I could not get back to ye in Philadelphia, no worry

I felt on your account, making sure that Lord Clowes would

look to your safety. An anxious week I had after the army

reached New York, till I received Colonel Brereton's letter telling

me of your safety, though that only assured me as to the

past, and I knew that any moment the rascally Whigs might

take to persecuting ye again."

"Nay, Lambert," said Mrs. Meredith, "not a one has offered

us the slightest annoyance. On the contrary, some of

thy tenants have tendered us food in payment of rent, though I

own that they insist upon hard bargains."

"I would I had as little complaint to make," responded the

husband. "No sooner did Clinton reach New York than my

appointment was taken from me, and but for Phil's kindness I

should like to have starved. Though with little money himself,

the boy would let me want for nothing, and but for him I

should not even have been able to be here to-night"

"How was that, dadda?" asked Janice.

"'T is not to be whispered outside, Jan, but some of these

same rebel Jerseymen--ay, and the Connecticut Yankees--

much prefer the ring of British guineas to the brustle of the worthless

paper money of the Whigs, so almost nightly boat-loads of

provisions and forage steal out of the Raritan for New York,

but for which the British army would be on short commons.

Phil, who knew of this traffic, secured me passage on one of

the empty boats."

"Then the villagers know thou hast returned?" exclaimed

Mrs. Meredith, anxiously.

"Not they, for those in the business are as little anxious to

have it known they have been in New York as I am to have it

advertised that I am here at Greenwood, and there is little

danger that either of us will blab."

"Had Lord Clowes arrived in New York, Lambert?" inquired

Mrs. Meredith.

"That he had, and in a mighty dudgeon he was at first

against all of us: with ye for what he took offence at in Philadelphia,

and with me because I hold to my promise to Phil.

But when he had word that I was coming here, he sought me

out in a great turn-over, and said if I brought ye back to New

York his house should be at our service, and that we should

want for nothing. There is no doubt, lass, that he loves ye

prodigious."

The girl shivered, August night though it was, but merely

exclaimed, "You 'd not think of making us go to New York

when we are under no necessity?"

"Not I, now that I know ye to be well off, which I feared ye

were not. The nut to crack is to know whether I hadst best

find safety by returning to New York, to live like a pauper on

Phil, or seek to lie hid here for a three-months."

"And why three months, Lambert?" asked his wife.

"'T is thought that will serve to bring about a peace. Have

ye not heard how this much-vaunted alliance with France has

resulted? The French fleet and soldiers, united to a force

under Sullivan, attempted to capture the British post at Newport,

but oil and vinegar would not mix. The Parley-voos

wanted to monopolise all the honour by having the Americans

play second fiddle to them, but to this they 'd not consent; and

while the two were quarrelling over it, like dogs over a bone, in

steps the British, drubs the two of them, and carries off the

prize. That gone, they've set to quarrelling as to whose fault

it was. The feeling now is as bitter against the French as

't was against the British, and 't is thought that with this end to

their hopes from the frog-eaters, they'll be glad enough to

make a peace with us, the more that their paper money, the

only thing that has kept them going this long, loses value daily,

and they will soon have nothing with which to pay bills and

soldiers."

"Thou hadst best stay here, Lambert," advised Mrs. Meredith.

"'T will be more comfortable for thee, and far happier

for us."

"Remember that I run the risk of capture, wife."

"Thou canst be kept concealed from all but Peg and Sukey,

who are as faithful as we."

"And I am sure if by chance you were discovered," suggested

Janice, haltingly, "that Colonel Brereton would--would

--save you from ill treatment."

"Colonel Brereton?"

"Ay, Lambert," spoke up Mrs. Meredith, as her daughter

looked appealingly to her. "There is something yet to be

told, which has won us a strong friend who would never permit

thee to suffer. Colonel Brereton, to whom we owe all our

present safety, has declared his attachment to Janice, and

seeks her--"

"Small doubt he has," derisively interjected the squire. "I

make certain that every rebel, seeing the game drawing to a

close, is seeking to feather his nest."

"Nay, Lambert. 'T is obvious he truly loves our--"

"He may, but it shall not help him to her or her acres,"

again interrupted the father. "The impudence of these Whigs

passes belief. I hope ye sent him off with a bee in his breeches,

Matilda."

"That we did not," denied Mrs. Meredith. "Nor wouldst

thou, hadst thee been with us to realise all his goodness to us."

"Well, well," grumbled the father, resignedly, "I suppose

if the times are such that we must accept favours of the rebels,

we must not resent their insults. But 't is bitter to think of our

good land come to such a pass that rogues like this Brereton

and Bagby should dare obtrude their suits upon us."

"Oh, dadda," protested Janice, pleadingly, "'t was truly no

insult he intended, but the--the highest--he spoke as if--as

if--There was a tender respect in his every word and action,

as if I might have been a queen. And I could not--Oh,

mommy, please, please, tell it for me!"

"'T is best thou shouldst know at once, Lambert, that Janice

favours his wooing."

"What!" roared the squire, looking incredulously from

mother to daughter, and then, as the latter nodded her head,

he cried, "I'll not believe it of ye, Jan, however ye may wag

your pate. Wed a bondman! Have ye forgot your old pledge

to me? Where 's your pride, child, that ye should even let

the thought occur to ye?"

"But he is well born, dadda, far better than we ourselves,

for he told me once that his great-grandfather was King of

England," cried the girl, desperately.

"And ye believed the tale?"

"He would not lie to me, dadda, I am sure."

"Why think ye that?"

"Oh--he never--loving me, he never--can't you understand?

He 'd not deceive me, dadda."

"Ye 're the very one he would, ye mean, and small wonder

he takes advantage of ye if ye talk as foolishly to him as to me.

Have done with all thought of the fellow and of his clankers

concerning his birth. Whate'er he was, he is to-day a run-away

bondservant and--"

"But, dadda, he is now a lieutenant-colonel and--"

"Of what? Where 's the honour in being in command of the

riff-raff of the land? Dost not know that the most of their

officers are made out of tapsters and tinkers and the like? Does

it make a tavern idler or a bankrupt the less of either, that a

pack of dunghills choose to dub him by another title? Once

peace and law are come again, this same scalawag Brereton, or

Fownes, or whatever he will then be, must return to my service

and fulfil his bond, with a penalty of double time to boot.

Proud ye'd be to see your spouse ordered to field or stable

work every morning by my overseer!"

"'T would grieve me, dadda," replied the girl, gently, "because

I know how proud he is, and how it would make him

suffer; but 't would not lessen my respect or--or affection for

him."

"What?" snorted Mr. Meredith once more. "Dost mean to

tell me that thy heart is in this?"

"I--indeed, dadda," stammered Janice, colouring, "until--

until this moment I thought 't was only for yours and mommy's

sakes--though at times puzzled by--by I know not what

--but now--"

"Well, out with it!" ordered the squire, as his daughter

hesitated.

Janice faltered, then hurried to where her father sat, and,

throwing herself on her knees, buried her face in his waistcoat.

Something she said, but very sharp ears it needed to resolve the

muffled sounds into the words, "Oh, dadda, I'm afraid that I

care for him more than I thought."

"What!" for a third time demanded Mr. Meredith. "'T is

not possible I hear ye aright, girl. Why, a nine-months ago ye

were beseeching me, with your arms about my neck, to fulfil

my word to Phil."

"But that was because I feared Lord Clowes," eagerly explained

Janice, with her face withdrawn from its screen; "and

then I did not love--or at least did not dream that I did."

"Pox me, but I believe Clowes is right when he says the

sex are without stability," growled the squire, irascibly. "Put

this fellow out of your thoughts, and remember that ye were

promised long since."

"Oh, dadda, I want to be dutiful, and obedient I promise to

be, but you would not have me marry with my heart given elsewhere.

You could not be so cruel or--"

"Cease such bibble-babble, Jan. 'T is for your own good I

am acting. Not merely is this fellow wholly beneath ye in

birth and fortune, besides a rebel to our king, but there are facts

about him of which ye have not cognisance that should serve to

rouse your pride."

"What?"

"What say ye to an intimacy twixt this same Brereton and

Mrs. Loring?"

With the question the girl was on her feet, yet with down-hung

head. "He--I know he does not care for her," she

declared.

"Ye know nothing of the kind," retorted the squire. "I

bear in my pocket a letter from her to him of so private a

nature that she would not trust it to a flag, because then it must

be read, which Lord Clowes brought to me with the request that

I would in some way smuggle it to him."

"That means little," said Janice.

"And what say ye to his meeting her in New York, for that

is the purpose of her letter to him?"

"How know you that?" cried Janice.

"Because she writ on the outside that the commander at

Paulus Hook had been sent orders to pass him to New York."

"That proves no wrong on his part," answered the girl, her

head proudly erect. "Nor will I believe any of him." And

without further words she went from the room. But though

she went to bed, she tossed restless and wakeful till the sun

rose.

LII

SCANT WELCOME FOR MAN AND BEAST

The concealment of the master of Greenwood proved

easy affair, for it was now the harvest season and

the neighbouring farmers were far too engaged by

their own interests to have thought of anything else,

while the four miles was distance sufficient to deter the villagers

from keeping an eye on the daily household life. For their

own comfort, a place of concealment was arranged for the

squire in the garret behind the big loom; but thus assured of

a retreat, he spent his time on the second floor, his only precautions

being to avoid the windows in daylight hours and to

keep Clarion at hand to give warning of any interloper.

In the next few days Mrs. Meredith twice reverted to the

subject of their midnight discussion, but each time only to find

her husband unyieldingly persistent that Janice was pledged to

Philemon, and that if this bar did not exist, he would never

countenance Brereton's suit. As for the girl, she shunned all

allusion to the matter, taking refuge in a proud silence.

In September an unexpected event brought the difficulty to

a crisis. One evening, after the work of the day was over, as

they sat in Mrs. Meredith's room, waiting for the dusk to

deepen enough for beds to become welcome, a creak of the

stairs set all three to listening, and brought Clarion to his feet.

Though no repetition of the sound followed, the dog, after a

moment's attention, dashed out of the room and was heard

springing and jumping about, with yelps betokening joyful

recognition of some one. Reassured by this, yet wishing to

know more, Janice hurried into the hall. Coming from the

half-light, it was too dark for her to distinguish anything, so

she was forced to grope her way to the stairs; but other eyes

were keener, and Janice, without warning, was encompassed by

a man's arms, which drew her to him that his lips might press

an eager kiss upon hers.

"Who is it?" whispered the pilferer, after the theft.

"Oh, Colonel Brereton!" exclaimed the girl, in an undertone;

"I knew at once, but--"

"Forgive me if I frightened you, sweetheart," begged the

officer, softly. "I could not resist the impulse to surprise you,

and so tied my horse down the road a bit, that I might steal in

upon you unaware."

"But what brings you?" questioned the girl, anxiously.

Brereton, with a touch of irritation, answered: "And you can

ask? Even my vanity is forced to realise you waste little love

on me that you need explanation. Sixty miles and over I

have rid to-day solely that I might bide the night here, and

not so much as a word of welcome do you give me. But I

vow you shall love me some day even as I love you; that

you too shall long for sight of me when I am away, and caress

me as fondly when I return."

"I did not mean that I was not glad to see you," protested

the maiden; "but--I thought I thought you could not

leave the army."

"Know then, madam," banteringly explained the lover,

"that the court-martial which has been trying Lee for his conduct

at Monmouth has come to a verdict, which required

transmission to Congress, for confirmation, and as I enjoy

nothing better than two hundred and forty miles of riding in

September heats and dust, I fairly went on my knees to his

Excellency for permission to bear it. And now do you ask

why I wished it? Do I not deserve something to lighten the

journey? Ah, my sweet, if you care for me a little, prove it

by once returning me one of my kisses!"

"With whom art thou speaking, daughter?" demanded Mrs.

Meredith, losing patience at the continuance of the dialogue

she could just realise.

"'T is I, John Brereton, Mrs. Meredith," spoke up the intruder,

"come in search of a night's lodgings."

The information was enough to make the squire forget

prudence, in the spleen it aroused. "Have done with your

whispered prittle-prattle, Jan, and let me have sight of this

fellow," he called angrily.

"Mr. Meredith! you here?" cried the officer, springing to

the doorway, to make sure that his ears did not deceive

him.

"Ay, and no wonder 't is a sad surprise to ye," went on

Mr. Meredith, irascibly. "There shall be no more stolen

interviews--ay, or kisses--from henceforth, ye Jerry Sneak!

Come out of the hall, Janice, and have done with this courting

by stealth."

"I call Heaven to witness," retorted Jack, hotly, "if once

I have acted underhand; and you have no right--"

"Pooh! 't is not for a jail-bird and bond-servant and rebel

to lay down the right and wrong to Lambert Meredith."

"Oh, dadda--" expostulatingly began Janice.

"What is more," continued the father, regardless of her

protest, "I'll have ye know that I take your behind-back

wooing of my daughter as an insult, and will none of it."

"Is it prudent, Lambert, needlessly to offend Colonel

Brereton?" deprecated Mrs. Meredith.

"Ay. Let him give me up to the authorities," sneered the

husband. "'T will be all of a piece with his other doings."

"To such an imputation I refuse to make denial," said

Brereton, proudly; "but be warned, sir, by the trials for

treason now going on in Jersey and Pennsylvania, what fate

awaits you if you are captured. Even I could not save you,

I fear, after your taking office from the king, if you were

caught thus."

"Wait till ye 're asked, and we'll see who first needs help,

ye or I," retorted the squire. "Meantime understand that

I'll not have ye at Greenwood, save as a bond-servant. My

girl is promised to a man of property and respectability, and

is to be had by no servant who dare not so much as let the

world know who were his father and mother!"

It was now too dark to distinguish anything, so the others

did not see how Brereton's face whitened. For a moment he

was silent, then in a voice hoarsely strident he said: "No man

but you could speak thus and not pay the full penalty of his

words; and since you take so low an advantage of my position,

further relations with you are impossible. Janice, choose between

me and your father, for there can be but the one of us

in your future life."

"Oh, Jack," cried the girl, imploringly, "you cannot--if

you love me, you cannot ask such a thing of me."

"He puts it well," asserted Mr. Meredith. "Dost intend

to obey me, child, or--"

"Oh, dadda," chokingly moaned Janice, "you know I have

promised obedience, and never will I be undutiful, but--"

The aide, not giving her time to complete the sentence,

vehemently exclaimed, "'T is as I might have expected!

Lover good enough I am when you are in peril or want, but

once saved, I am quickly taught that your favours are granted

from policy and not from love."

"'T is not so," denied the girl, indignantly yet miserably;

"I--"

"Be still, Jan," ordered the father. "Think ye, sir, Lambert

Meredith's daughter would ever bring herself to wed a no-name

and double-name fellow such as ye? Here is a letter I

fetched to ye from that--Mrs. Loring: take it and go to

her. She's the fit company for gentry of your breed, and not

my girl."

"Beg of me forgiveness on your deathbed, or on mine, and

I'll not pardon you the words you have just spoken," thundered

the officer; "and though you stand on the gallows itself I will

not stir finger to save you. Once for all, Janice, take choice

between us."

"'T is an option you have no right to force upon me," responded

the girl, desperately.

"Ay, pay no heed to what he says, Jan. Hand him this

letter and let him go."

"If he wants it, he must take it himself," cried Janice.

"I'll not touch her letter."

The indignant loathing in the tone of the speaker was too

clearly expressed not to be understood, and Brereton replied

to it rather than to her words. "I tried to speak to you of

her--to tell you the whole wretched story, when last I saw

you, but I could not bring myself in such hap--at such an

hour--the moment was too untimely--and so I did not.

Little I suspected that you already knew the facts of my

connection with her."

"Despite the proof I myself had, I have ever refused to

credit when told by others what you have just owned," declared

the girl. "Nor will I listen to you. From the first I

scorned and hated her, and now wish never to hear of the

shameful creature again."

Without a word the officer passed into the hall, and began

the descent. Before he had reached the foot of the stairs

Janice was at its head.

"You'll not go without a good-by, Jack," she pleaded.

"Obey dadda I ought--but--Oh, Jack--I will--if you

will but come back--Yes, I will kiss you."

Brereton halted and clutched the banister, as if to prevent

either departure or return, and could the girl have seen the

look on his face she would have been in his arms before he

had time to conquer himself. But in doubt as to what the

pause indicated, she stood waiting, and after a moment's

struggle Jack strode through the hallway and was gone. So

long as his footsteps could be heard Janice stood listening to

them, but when they had died out of hearing she went into

her own room, and the parents heard the bolt shot.

There was something in the girl's eyes the next morning

which prevented either father or mother from recurring to the

scene, and time did not make it easier; for Janice, with a

proudly sad face, did her tasks in an almost absolute silence,

which told more clearly than words her misery. Probably the

matter would have eventually been reopened, but two days

brought a new difficulty which gave both Mr. and Mrs. Meredith

something else for thought.

Its first warning was from the hound, who roused his master,

as he dozed in an easy-chair one sleepy afternoon, by a growl,

and the squire's own ears served to tell him that horsemen

were entering the gate. The women on the floor below also

heard the sounds, and with a call to make sure that the

refugee was seeking his hiding-place, the mother and daughter

hurried to the front door to learn what the incursion might

portend.

From the porch they could see a half-dozen riders in uniform,

who had drawn rein just inside the gateway, while yet

another, accompanied by two dogs, rode up to where they

were standing.

"'T is General Lee," exclaimed Mrs. Meredith, as he came

within recognising distance. "Probably he wishes a night's

lodging."

It was far from what the officer wanted, as it proved; for

when he had come within good speaking distance he called

angrily, "Ho! ye are there, are ye, hussy? Still busily seeking,

I suppose, to be a pick-thanks with those in power by

casting ridicule on those they are caballing to destroy."

"I know not the cause for thy extraordinary words, General

Lee," replied Mrs. Meredith, with much dignity, "and

can only conclude that a warm afternoon has tempted thee

into a too free use of the bottle."

"Bah!" ejaculated Lee. "My bicker is not with ye, but

with your girl, who, it seems, has a liking for mischief and

slander."

"I am ignorant to what thee refers, sir, and cannot

believe--" began the mother.

"Deny if you can that she limned the caricature of me

which was handed about the theatre, and made me and my

dogs the laugh of the town for a week?" interrupted Lee.

"Only three days since I had a letter from a friend in Philadelphia,

telling me a journal of hers had been examined by

the council, and that therein she confessed it as her work."

"Indeed, General Lee," said Mrs. Meredith, apologetically,

"the child meant no--"

"I tell you I'm not to be mollified by any woman's brabble,"

blustered Lee. "I know 't is part and parcel of an attempt

to ruin my character. Even to this silly witling, all are endeavouring

to break me down by one succession of abominable,

damnable lies. The very court that has been trying

me would not believe that white was white as regards me, or

that black was black as regards this G. Washington, whom the

army and the people consider as an infallible divinity, when

he is but a bladder of emptiness and pride. I am now on

my way to get their verdict against me, and in favour of this

Great Gargantua, or Lama Babek--for I know not which to

call him--set aside, and I stopped in passing to tell you

that I--"

What the general intended was not to be known, for at this

point there came that which turned his thoughts. One of his

dogs, an English spaniel, neither interested in Janice's caricature

of Lee, nor in Lee's abuse of Washington, took advantage

of his master's preoccupation to steal into the house,--

a proceeding which Clarion evidently resented, for suddenly

from within came loud yaps and growls, which told only too

plainly that if there was no protector of the household from

the anger of the general, there was one who objected to the

intrusion of his dog. Scarcely had the sounds of the fight

begun than shrill yelps of pain indicated that one participant

was getting very much the worst of it, and which, was quickly

shown by the general roaring an oath and a command that

they stop the "murder of my Caesar." The din was too great

within, however, for Clarion to hear the order that both ladies

shouted to him, though it is to be questioned if he would have

heeded them if he had; and with another oath Lee was out of

his saddle and into the house, his riding-whip raised to take

summary vengeance.

Just as the general entered the hallway, the spaniel, wriggling

free from the hound's onslaught, fled upstairs, closely

pursued by the other dog, and after the two stamped the

officer. On the second floor the fugitive faltered, to cast an

agonised glance behind him, but sight of Clarion's open mouth

was enough, and up the garret stairs he fled. At the top he

once more paused, looking in all directions for a haven of

refuge; and seeing a man in the act of retreating behind the

loom in the corner, he fled to him for protection. When Lee

entered the garret, only Clarion, every bristle on end, was in

view, standing guard over a corner of the room; and striding

to him, the general lashed him twice with his riding-whip ere

the transgressor, with howls of surprised pain, fled. Then

Lee peered behind the loom in search of his favourite.

"Devil seize me!" he exclaimed. "What have we here?

Ho! a good find," he jeered, as he made out the squire. He

rushed to one of the windows, threw it up, and called a summons

to the group of horsemen, then came back as the squire

crawled from his retreat. "Little did I reck," gloated Lee,

"when I read at the tavern this very day the governor's proclamation

attainting you, that ye'd come to be my prize. And

poetic justice it is that I should have the chance to avenge in

you the insult of your daughter."

LIII

UNDER SHADOW OF THE GALLOWS

No prayer the women could make served to sway

Lee from his purpose, and without delay the

prisoner was mounted behind one of the escort,

taken to Brunswick, and handed over to the

authorities. When Mrs. Meredith and Janice, who followed

on foot, reached the town, it was to find that the squire was

to be carried to Trenton the next morning. A plea was made

that they should be permitted to accompany him, but it was

refused, and a bargain was finally made with the publican

to carry them.

The following evening saw them all in Trenton, Mr. Meredith

in jail, and the ladies once more at the Drinkers'. It

was too late for anything to be attempted that night; but early

the next day Mrs. Meredith, with Mr. Drinker, called on

Governor Livingston to plead for mercy.

"Had he come in and delivered himself up, there might

have been some excuse for special lenience," the Governor

argued; "but captured as he was, there can be none. The

people have suffered so horribly in the last two years that they

wish a striking example made of some prominent Tory, and

will not brook a reasonless pardon. He must stand his trial

under the statute and proclamation, and of that there can

be but one outcome."

When the suppliants returned with this gloomy prediction,

Janice, who held herself accountable for the calamity, primarily

by having secured the appointment of her father, and still

more by drawing the caricature which had brought such disaster,

was so overcome that for a time the mother's anxieties were

transferred to her. Realising this, after the first wild outburst

of grief and horror were over, Janice struggled desperately

to regain self-control; and when the two had gone

to bed, she successfully resisted her longing to give way once

more to tears, though no sleep came to her the night through.

Yet, if she brought pale cheeks and tired eyes to the breakfast

table, there was determination rather than despair in her

face and manner, as if in her long vigil she had thought out

some deliverance.

In what this consisted was shown by her whispered request

to Mr. Drinker, the moment the meal had been despatched,

to learn for her if Joe Bagby was in town, and to arrange

for an interview. Within the hour her emissary returned with

the member of Assembly.

"I suppose you have heard, Mr. Bagby, of my father's

capture," she said, without even the preliminary of a greeting.

"Yes, miss," said Bagby, awkwardly and shamefacedly;

"'t is news that did n't stop travelling, and 't was all over

Trenton before he'd been an hour in town. One way or

another, he and I have n't got on well, but I did n't wish him

or you any such bad luck, and I'm real sorry it 's come about."

"I wished to see you to ask--to beg," went on the girl,

"that you would persuade the Governor to set him free."

"But he'd not have the right to do that," replied Joe.

"He only can pardon the squire after the trial. And right

now I want to say that if you have n't settled on any lawyer,

I will take the case and do my best for your dad, and let you

take your own time as to paying me."

"Oh, Mr. Bagby," pleaded Janice, "Mr. Drinker is sure

that he will be convicted of treason. Can you not do something

to stop it?"

"I am afraid he is right, miss. About his only chance will

be for the Governor to pardon him."

"But only yesterday he said he should not," wailed Janice.

"Can you not persuade him?"

"Guess 't would be only be a waste of my time," answered Joe.

"He and I have disagreed over some appointments, and we

are n't much of friends in consequence. But aside from that,

he's a great trimmer for popularity, and the people just now

are desperate set on having the Tories punished."

"Don't say that," besought the girl. "Surely, if--if--

if I promise to marry you, cannot you save him?"

"If 't was a bridge to be built, or a contract for uniforms,

or something of that sort, I'd have real influence in the

Assembly; but I am afraid I can't fix this matter. The

Governor's a consarned obstinate man most times, and I don't

believe he'll listen to any one in this. What I can do, though,

if you'll just do what you offered, miss, will be to save your

property from all risk of being taken from you."

"Don't speak of it to me," cried Janice, wildly. "Do you

think we could care for such a thing now?"

"Property 's property," said Joe, "and 't is n't a good thing

to forget, no matter what happens. However, that can wait.

Now, about my being your lawyer?"

"I will speak to my mother," replied the girl, sadly, "and

let you know her wishes." And the words were so evidently

a dismissal that Bagby took his departure.

Without pausing to mourn over the failure, Janice procured

paper and pen, and set about a letter; but it was long in the

writing, for again and again the pages were torn up. Finally,

in desperation, she let her quill run on, regardless of form,

grammar, erasures, or the blurs caused by her own tears, until

three sheets had been filled with incoherent prayers and promises.

"If only you can save him," one read, "nothing you

ask of me, even to disobeying him, even to running off with

you, will I refuse. I will be your very slave." If ever a proud

girl humbled herself, Janice did so in this appeal.

The reading of the missive was begun the next day by an

officer seated in the "public" of the City Tavern of Philadelphia,

but after a very few lines he rose and carried it to

his own room, and there completed it. Then folding it up,

he thrust it into his pocket, once more descended the stairs,

and inquired of the tavern-keeper: "'T was reported that

General Lee came to town yesterday; dost know where he

lodges?"

"I hearn he was at the Indian King."

"Thanks," responded the questioner, and then asked:

"One thing more. Hast a stout riding-whip you can lend me

for a few minutes?"

"Ay, Colonel Brereton. Take any that suits you from the

rack."

The implement secured, the officer set out down the street,

with a look that boded ill for somebody.

Five minutes later, with one hand held behind his back, he

stood in the doorway of the public room of another ordinary,

arriving just in time to hear a man proclaim in stentorian

tones:--

"I tell ye, any other general in the world than General

Howe would have beat General Washington; and any other

general in the world than General Washington would have

beat General Howe."

"Hush!" said a man. "Here is one of his aides."

"Think ye I care?" roared Lee. "Colonel Brereton and

all others of his staff know too well the truth of what I say to

dare resent it. The more that hear me, the better."

Brereton strode forward to within three feet of Lee. "You

owe your immunity," he said, struggling to speak quietly,

"to the very man you are abusing, for not one of his family

but would have challenged you after your insulting letters to

him, had not General Washington commanded us all to refrain,

lest, if any of his staff called you out, it should seem like his personal

persecution. Your conduct to him was outrage enough

to make me wish to kill you, but now you have given me a

stronger reason, and this time there is no high-minded man

to save you from my vengeance, you cur!" There was a

quick motion of Jack's arm, a swishing sound, and the whip

was furiously lashed full across the general's face.

Lee, white with rage, save where a broad red welt stretched

from ear to chin, staggered to his feet, pulling at his sword as

he rose, but his three companions united to restrain him.

"Take your satisfaction like a gentleman, sir," insisted one,

"and not like a tavern broiler."

"I shall see Major Franks within the hour," remarked Brereton,

"and have no doubt he will represent me. But if you

wish a meeting, you must act promptly, for I shall not remain

in the city later than noon to-morrow."

It was just after dawn the next morning that five horsemen

turned off from the Frankford road into a meadow, and

struck across it to a piece of timber on the other side. One

of them was left with the horses, and the remainder took

their way to an open spot, where the trees had been felled.

Here the four paired off; and the couples held a brief

consultation.

"I care not what the terms be," Brereton ended, "so long

as you secure the privilege of advancing, for one of us goes not

off the field unhurt."

The seconds held a conference, and then separated. Each

gave his principal a pistol, and stationed him so that they

stood some twenty paces apart.

"Gentlemen, with your weapons pointed groundward, on

the word, you will walk toward each other, and fire when it

pleases you," ordered Major Edwards. "Are you ready?

Go!"

The duellists, with their pistol hands dropped, walked steadily

forward, one, two, three, four, five strides.

"'T is murder, not satisfaction, they seek!" ejaculated

Franks, below his breath.

Another and yet another step each took, until there was

not twenty feet between the two; then Lee halted and coolly

raised his arm; one more step Brereton took as he did so,

and not pausing to steady his body, his pistol was swung upward

so quickly that it flashed first. Lee's went off a second

later, and both men stood facing each other, the smoking

barrels dropped, and each striving to see through the smoke

of his own discharge. Thus they remained for a moment,

then Lee dropped his weapon, staggered, and with the words,

"I am hit," went on one knee, and then sank to the ground.

Brereton walked back to his original position, and stood

calmly waiting the report of his second, who, with Edwards,

rushed to the wounded man's assistance.

"He is struck in the groin," Franks presently informed

him; "and while not dangerous, 't will be a month before he's

good for anything."

"You mean good for nothing," replied Jack. "I meant

to make it worse, but must rest content. As I told you, I

ride north without delay, so will not even return to the city.

Thank you, David, for helping me, and good-by."

Five hours later, Lee was lying in the Pennsylvania hospital,

and Brereton was riding into Trenton. Without the loss of a

moment, the aide sought an interview with the Governor,

clearly with unsatisfactory results; for when he left that

official his face was anxious, and not even tarrying to give

his mare rest, he mounted and spurred northward, spending

the whole night in the saddle. Pausing at Newark only to

breakfast, he secured a fresh horse, and reached Fredericksburg

a little before nightfall. Seeking out the commander-in-chief,

he delivered certain papers he carried; but before the

general could open them, he said:--

"Your Excellency, I wish speech with you on a matter of

life and death. To no other man in the world would I show

this letter, but I beg of you to read it, sir, and do what you

can for my sake and for theirs."

Washington took the sheets held out to him and slowly

read them from beginning to end. "'T is a sad tale the poor

girl tells," he said when he had finished; "but, my boy,

however much I may pity and wish to aid them, my duty to

the cause to which I have dedicated my life--"

"Ah, your Excellency," burst out Jack, "in just this one

instance 't will surely not matter. A word from you to Governor

Livingston--"

Washington shook his head. "I have ever refrained from

interfering in the civil line," he said, "and one breaking of

the rule would destroy the fabric I have reared with so much

pains. If I have gained influence with the people, with the

army, and with the State officials, it is because I have ever

refused to allow personal considerations to shape my conduct;

and that reputation it is my duty to maintain at all hazards,

that what I advise and urge shall never be open to the slightest

suspicion of any other motive than that of the public

good. It is a necessity which has caused me pain in the

past, and which grieves me at this moment, but I hold a

trust. Do not make its performance harder than it need be."

"Do I not deserve something at your hands, sir? Faithfully

I have served you to my uttermost ability."

"You ask what cannot be granted, Brereton; and from

this refusal I must not recede. Now leave me, my boy, to

read the despatches you have brought."

There was that in the general's manner which made impossible

further entreaty, and the aide obeyed his behest.

Yet such was the depth of his concern that he made a second

appeal, two days later, when he brought a bunch of circular

letters to the State governors, concerning quotas of provisions,

which he had written, to his chief for signature.

"Will you not, sir," he implored, "relent and add a postscript

to Governor Livingston in favour of mercy for Mr.

Meredith?"

"I have given you my reasons, Brereton, why I must not,

and all further petitions can but pain us both." Washington

signed the series, and taking the sand-box, sprinkled the wet

ink on each in turn. "Seal them, and see that they fail not

to get into the post," he ordered calmly. Yet as he rose to

leave the room, he laid his hand affectionately on Jack's

shoulder, and said: "I grieve not to do it, my boy, for your

sake and for hers."

The aide took the chair the general had vacated, and

began mechanically the closing of the letters; but when that

to the Governor of New Jersey was reached, he paused in the

process. After a little, he took from his pocket Janice's

frantic supplication, and reread it, his face displaying his response

to her suffering. "And ten words would save him,"

he groaned. His eye sought once more the unsealed letter,

and stared at it fixedly. "At worst it will be my life, and

that is worth little to me and nothing to any one else!" He

snatched a pen hastily, dipped it in the ink, but as he set the

tip to the paper, paused, his brow clouded. "To trick him

after all his generosity!" For a trice Jack hesitated. "He

stands too high to be injured by it," he exclaimed. "It

hurts not the cause, while 't will kill her if they hang him."

Again he set pen to the paper, and wrote a postscript of four

lines below Washington's name. "'T is the devil's work, or

her good angel's, that I had the writing of the letters, so the

penmanship agrees," he muttered, as he folded and sealed it.

Gathering up the batch, he gave a reckless laugh. "I said

I'd not lift finger to save him from the rope, and here I am

taking his place on the gallows. Well, 't is everything to do

it for her, scorn and insult me as they may, and to die with the

memory that my arms have held and my lips caressed her."

LIV

A GAIN AND A LOSS

It was two days of miserable doubt which Janice spent

after despatching her letter to Brereton. Then something

Mr. Drinker told his daughter brought some

cheer to the girl.

"Friend Penrhyn informed me that Colonel Brereton rode

into town this afternoon, Tabitha," he said, at the supper

table; "yet, though I went to the tavern to bespeak his company

here this evening, I could not get word of him. 'T is

neglectful treatment, indeed, of his old friends, that three times

in succession he should pass through without dropping in upon

us."

"He may still come, father," suggested Tabitha; and more

than she spent the evening in a state of expectancy. But

bedtime arrived; and the morrow came and went without

further news of him who had now become Janice's sole hope,

and then she learned that he had ridden northward.

"I knew his temper was hot," she sobbed in her own room,

"but never did I believe he could be so cruel as to come and

go without word or sign."

From the trial, which occurred but three days after this crushing

disappointment, the public were excluded, not even Mrs.

Meredith and Janice being permitted to attend. The result,

therefore, was first brought them by Bagby, who, though his

services had been refused by Mr. Meredith, had succeeded in

being present.

"The squire's lawyer," he told them, "was n't up to a trick

or two that I had thought out, and which might have done

something; but he made a pretty good case, if he could n't

save him. Morris's charge was enough to convict, but every

juryman was ready to vote 'Guilty' before the Chief Justice

had so much as opened his mouth."

"Is there nothing to do?" cried Mrs. Meredith.

"I'll see the Governor, and I'll get my friends to see him,"

promised Bagby; "but don't you go to raising your hopes,

for there is n't one chance in a hundred now."

Once again Mrs. Meredith sought interview with Livingston,

but the Governor refused to even see her; and both Mr.

Drinker's and Bagby's attempts succeeded little better, for

they could only report that he declined to further discuss

the matter, and that the execution was set for the following

Friday.

Abandoning all hope, therefore, Mrs. Meredith wrote a letter,

merely begging that they might spend the last night with

Mr. Meredith in the jail; and when the next morning she

received a call from the Governor, she only inferred that it was

in relation to her plea.

"It has been far from my wish, Mrs. Meredith," Livingston

said, "to bring suffering to you more than to any one else,

and the position I have taken as regards your husband was

only that which I deemed most for the good of the State, and

most in accord with public opinion. The vipers of our own

fireside require punishment; your husband had made himself

one of the most conspicuous and unpopular of these by the

office he held under the king, and no reason could I discover

why he should not reap the punishment he fitly deserved.

But this morning a potent one was furnished me, for I received

a letter from General Washington, speaking in high

terms of Mr. Meredith, and expressing a hope that we will not

push his punishment to the extreme of the law. It is the first

time his Excellency has ever ventured an opinion in a matter

outside of his own concern, and I conclude that he believes

stringent justice in this case will injure more than aid our

cause; and as the use of his name furnishes me with an explanation

that will satisfy the Assembly and people of this

State, I can be less rigorous. That you should not endure

one hour more of anxiety than need be, I have hurried to you,

to tell you that I shall commute his sentence to imprisonment

with the other political prisoners in Virginia."

The scene of gratitude and joy that ensued was not describable,

and some hours passed before either mother or daughter

became sufficiently composed to take thought of the future.

Then, by permission of the jailer, they saw Mr. Meredith and

discussed the problem before them. Neither wife nor daughter

could bear the thought of again being separated from the

squire, and begged so earnestly to be allowed to share the

half-captivity, half-exile, that had been decreed him, that he

could not deny them, the more that his own heart-strings in

reality drew the same way, and only his better judgment was

opposed to it.

"'T will be a hard journey, wife," he urged, "and little

comfort we're like to find at the end of it. For me there can

be no escape, but 't is not necessary that ye should bear it, for

't is to be hoped ye can live on at Greenwood, as ye have

already."

"We should suffer more, Lambert, in being separated from

thee."

"Oh, dadda, nothing could be worse than that," cried

Janice, her arms about his neck.

"Have your way, then," finally acceded their lord and

master.

This settled, they set about such preparations as were possible.

From Mr. Drinker a loan of five thousand dollars--

equal to a hundred pounds, gold--was secured, and a bargain

struck with a farmer to bring from Greenwood such supplies

of clothes as Mrs. Meredith wrote to Sukey to pack and send.

To most the prospect would not have been a cheering one,

but after the last few days it seemed truly halcyon, and Janice

was scarcely able to contain her happiness. She poured her

warmest gratitude and thanks out in a letter to Washington,

which would have surprised him not a little had he ever received

it, but the mail in which it went was captured, and

it was a British officer in New York who ultimately read it.

Nor did this effusion satisfy her.

"Oh, mommy," she joyfully bubbled, as they were preparing

for bed, "was there ever a greater or nobler or kinder

man than General Washington?"

And though the first frost of the season was forming crystals

on the panes, she knelt down in her short night-rail on a

lamb's wool rug, so small that her little feet rested on the cold

boards, and prayed for the general as he had probably never

been prayed for,--prayed until she was shivering so that her

mother interfered and ordered her to come to bed.

Her prayers were far more needed by some one else.

From the commission of his wrong, Brereton made it a point

to meet the post-rider as he trotted up to headquarters each

afternoon, and on the third day after the action of the Governor,

he found in the mail a letter which told him of the success

of his trick. While he was still reading, Colonel Hamilton

came to him with a message that Washington desired his

presence and, squaring his shoulders and setting his mouth as

if in preparation for an ordeal, Jack hastened to obey, though,

as he came to the closed doorway he hesitated for a moment

before he knocked, much as if his courage failed him.

Upon entrance, he found his superior striding up and down

the room, a newspaper in his hand, and without preliminary

word the general gave expression to his obvious anger.

"I would have you know, Colonel Brereton," sternly he

began, "that I am not the man to overlook disobedience of

my orders, nor pass over, without a rebuke, such disrespect as

you have shown me."

"I do not deny that your Excellency has cause for complaint,"

replied Jack, steadily; "and in acting as I did I was

fully prepared for whatever results might flow from it, even the

penalty of life itself; but, believe me, sir, my chief grief will

ever be the having deceived you, and my real punishment can

be inflicted by no court-martial you may order, but will be in

the loss of your trust and esteem."

"You speak in riddles, sir," responded Washington, halting

in his walk. "Cause for anger I have richly, for, as I told my

whole family, any challenge they might send General Lee

would, by the public, be ascribed to persecution. But you

know as well as I that your duel with him is no offence to

submit to a court-martial, and that you should pretend that I

have any such recourse is adding insincerity to the original

fault. You have--"

"That, sir, is a charge I indignantly deny," interrupted

Jack, warmly, "and I was referring--"

"No denial can justify your conduct, sir," broke in Washington,

wrathfully. "You have exposed me to the criticism

and misapprehension of the public. By your disregard of my

orders and my wishes, you have deservedly forfeited all right

to my favour or my affection."

"Your Excellency forgets--"

"I forget nothing," thundered the general. "'T is you

have forgotten the respect and obedience due me from all my

family and--"

"Think you an aide is but a slave," retorted Brereton, hotly,

"and that he possesses no right of independent action? Nor

did I conceive that your Excellency would ever judge me

unheard. I did--"

"The case is too palpable for--"

"Yet misjudge me you have, for I did not challenge Lee

because he had insulted you, but because he was shamefully

persecuting the woman I love."

Washington, who had resumed his angry pacing of the room,

once again halted. "Explain your meaning, sir."

"In your heat, your Excellency has clearly forgot the tale

Miss Meredith's letter told of General Lee's conduct as regards

herself and her father. With the feeling I bear for

her, human nature could not brook such behaviour, and it

was that for which I challenged him."

The general stood silent for a moment, then said, "I have

been too hasty in my action, Brereton, and have drawn a conclusion

that was not justified. I owe you an apology for my

words, and trust that this acknowledgment will end the misunderstanding."

He offered his hand, as he ended, to the aide.

"I thank your Excellency," answered Jack, "for your

prompt reparation, but before accepting it and taking your

hand, sir, it is my painful necessity to tell you that I have fully

merited all the anger you have expressed. Guiltless as I am

of fault as regards General Lee, I have committed a far greater

offence against you,--a wrong, sir, which, done with however

much deliberation, has caused me unending pain and remorse."

"Explain yourself, my boy," said Washington, kindly.

"Despite your decision, sir, I added a postscript in your

letter to Governor Livingston touching upon the case of Mr.

Meredith, and made you express a good opinion of him and a

recommendation that he be dealt with leniently. I now hold

in my hand a letter from a Trenton friend informing me that

this recommendation induced the Governor to commute the

death sentence into imprisonment. It is but the news I

awaited before informing your Excellency of my breach of trust;

and I should have made full confession to you within the hour,

had you not sent for me, as I supposed, to charge me with

this very treachery. And 't was this of which I was thinking

when I spoke expectingly of a court-martial."

During the whole explanation, Washington had stood fixedly,

his brows knit, and when the aide paused, he said nothing for

a minute; then he asked:--

"Has there been aught in the past, sir, to have made me

merit from you such a stab?"

"None, sir," answered Jack, gravely. "And whatever reason

I can find for the action in my own heart, there is nothing

I can offer in its defence to you."

Washington sat down at his desk and leaned his head on

his hand. "Is it not enough," he said, "that Congress is

filled with my enemies, that the generals on whom I must

depend are scheming my ruin and their own advancement,

but that even within my own family I cannot find those who will

be faithful to me? My God! is there no one I can trust?"

"Your Excellency's every word," said Jack, with tears in

his eyes, "cuts me to the heart, the more that nothing you can

say can increase the blame I put upon myself. I beg of you,

sir, to believe me when I say that, be your grief what it may, it

can never equal mine. And I beg that if my past relations to

you plead ever so little for a merciful judgment of my conduct,

you will remember that my betrayal was committed from no

want of affection for you, but because one there was, and but

one alone, whom I loved better."

Washington rose and faced Brereton, his self-control regained.

"Your lapse of duty to the cause we are engaged in,

sir, and my sense of it, make it out of the question that I

should ever again trust you; it is therefore impossible for me

longer to retain you upon my staff. But your loyalty and past

service speak loudly in your favour, and I shall not, therefore,

push your public punishment further than to demand your

resignation from my family, and so soon as there is a vacancy

among the officers of the line you will take your place according

to the date of your commission. The wrong you have

done me personally is of a different nature, and ends from this

moment the affection I have borne you and such friendship as

has existed between us."

LV

PRISONERS OF WAR

The Governor had warned the Merediths that the removal

to Charlottesville must await the chance of an

empty army transport, or other means of conveyance,

and for more than a month they waited, not

knowing at what hour the order would come.

Finally they were told to be ready the following morning;

and at daybreak the three, with a guard, were packed into a

hay cart, the larger part of the townsfolk collecting to view

their departure. Nor did Mr. Bagby, who had made a number

of calls upon them in the interval, fail to appear for a

good-by.

"Just you remember, miss," he urged, "that my arguments

and General Washington's was what saved your dad, and that

I can still do a lot to save your property. Don't forget either

that I'm going to go on rising. Only think it over well, and

you'll see which side your bread is buttered on, for, if you are

mighty good-looking, you 're no fool."

"Thank you, Mr. Bagby, for everything you have done or

tried to do," replied the girl; and the squire, who had heard

the whole speech, said nothing, though the effort to remain

silent was clearly a severe one.

"Whither do we go first?" asked Mrs. Meredith of the

driver, after the ferry-boat had left the Jersey shore and the

spectators both behind.

"Our orders is to take you to Reading, an' hand you over

to the officer in charge of the Convention snogers, pervided

the last detachment hev n't left theer; if they hev, we are to

lick up till we overtake them."

"What regiment is that?" questioned Janice.

"Guess ye 're a bit green on what 's goin' on," chuckled

one of the guard. "Them 's poppy-cock, hifalutin, by-the-grace-of-God

an' King Georgie, come-in-an'-surrender-afore-we-extirpate-yer,

Johnny Burgoyne's army, as did a little capitulatin'

themselves. We've kep' 'em about Boston till we've

got tired of teamin' pork an' wheat to 'em, an' now we're

takin' 'em to where the pigs an' wheat grows, to save us money,

an' to show 'em the size of the country they calkerlated to

overrun. I guess they'll write hum that that job 's a good

one to sub-let, after they've hoofed it from Cambridge to

Charlottesville."

The departure had been well timed, for when they drove

into Reading, about five, long lines of men, garbed in green or

red uniforms, were answering the roll-call as a preliminary to

having quarters for the night assigned to them in the court-house,

churches, and school. After much search, the officer in

command was found, and the prisoner turned over to him, to

his evident displeasure.

"Heavens!" he complained, "is it not bad enough to move

two thousand troops, a third of whom no man can understand

the gibberish of, to say nothing of General de Riedesel's wife and

children, but I must have other women to look out for? I wish

that Governor Livingston would pardon less and hang more!"

Unpromising as this beginning was, it proved a case of growl

and not of bite, for the colonel speedily secured a night's lodging

for them in a private house, and the next morning made a

place for the two women beside the driver of one of the carts

of the baggage train, the squire being ordered to march on

foot with the column.

The journey proved a most trying one. The November

rains, which wellnigh turned the roads from aids into obstacles,

so impeded them that frequently they were not able to compass

more than six or seven miles in a day, and it sometimes

happened, therefore, that they were not able to reach the village

or town on which they had been billeted, and were compelled

to spend the night in the open fields, often with scanty

supplies of provisions as an additional discomfort. From the

inhabitants of the villages and farms, too, they met with more

kicks than ha'pence. Again and again the people refused to

sell anything to those whom they considered their enemies,

and some even denied them the common courtesy of a drink

of water. The chief amusement of the children along the

route was to shout opprobrious or derisive epithets as they

passed, not infrequently accompanied with stones, rotten

apples, and now and then the still more objectionable egg.

The squire's opinion of Whiggism went to an even lower pitch,

but his womenkind bore it unflinchingly and uncomplainingly,

happy merely in the escape from greater suffering.

As for Janice, she took what came with such merriness and

good cheer that she was soon friends not merely with a number

of their fellow-companions in misery, the British and Brunswick

officers, but with the officers of their escort of Continental

troops, and they were all quickly vying to do the little they

could to add to the Merediths' comfort and ease. Of the

miserable lodgings, whether in town or field, they were sure to

be given the least poor; no matter how short were the

commons, their needs were supplied; at every halting-place

they received the first firewood cut; and time and again some

one of the officers dismounted that Mr. Meredith might take

his place in the saddle for an hour.

The girl made a yet more fortunate acquaintance on a night

of especial discomfort and privation, after they had crossed the

Pennsylvania boundary and were well into the semi-wilderness

of the Blue Ridge Mountains. A washed away bridge so

delayed their morning progress that they had advanced only

a little over five miles, and were still four miles from their

appointed camping ground, when the first snowstorm of the

season set in, and compelled them to bivouac along the road-side.

The ration issued to each prisoner on that particular

afternoon consisted of only a half-pound of salt pork and a

handful of beans; and as she had frequently done before,

Janice set out to make a tour of the straggling farms of the

neighbourhood, in the hope of purchasing milk, eggs, or other

supplies to eke the scanty fare. At the first log cabin she

came to she made her request, and for a moment was hopeful,

for the woman replied:--

"Yes. I have eggs and milk and chickens, and vegetables

in a great plenty, but--"

"And what are your prices?"

"--But not a morsel of anything do you get. You come

to our land to kill us and to waste our homes. Now it is our

turn to torment you. I feed no royalists."

Her second application drew forth an even sterner rebuff,

for the housewife, before Janice had said half of her speech,

cried, "Be off with you, you Tory! think you I would give

help to such nasty dogs?"

The third attempt was equally futile, for she was told:

"Not for a thousand dollars would I give you anything, and if

you would all die of hunger, 't would be so much the better."

The maiden was long since too accustomed to this treatment

to let it discourage her, and in her fourth essay she was more

fortunate. While the woman was refusing, the farmer himself

appeared upon the scene, and moved by pity, or perhaps by the

youth and beauty of the petitioner, vetoed his wife's decision,

and not merely filled her pail with milk, but added a small

basket of eggs and apples, declining to accept the one hundred

dollars in Continental bills she tendered.

Her quest had taken Janice nearly two miles away from her

quarters, and in returning with this wealth she was compelled

to pass the length of the encampment. This brought her

presently to a large tent, from which issued the sobs of a child,

intermixed with complaints in French of cold and hunger, with

all of which a woman's voice was blended, seeking to comfort

the weeper.

On impulse, the girl turned aside and looked through the

half-closed flap. Within she saw a woman of something over

thirty years of age, with a decidedly charming face, sitting on a

camp-stool with a child of about three years old in her arms

and two slightly older children at her feet, from one of whom

came the wails.

"We do not know each other, Madame de Riedesel," Janice

apologised in the best French she could frame, "but Captain

Geismar and others have told me so much about you that I--

I--" There Janice came to a halt, and then in English,

colouring as she spoke, she went on, "'T is mortifying, but

though I thought I had become quite a rattler in French, the

moment I need it, I lose courage."

"Ach!" cried Madame de Riedesel. "Nevair think. I

speak ze Anglais parfaitement. Continuez."

"I was passing," explained Janice, mightily relieved, "and

hearing what your little girl was saying, I made bold to intrude,

in the hope that you will let me share my milk and eggs

with the children." As she spoke, Janice held out to each of

the three a rosy-cheeked apple, and the sobs had ended ere

her explanation had.

"Ah!" cried the woman, "zees must be ze Mees Meredeez

whom zay told me was weez ze waggons in ze rear, and who,

zay assure me, was a saint. Zat must you be, to offer your

leettle store to divide with me. Too well haf I learned how

difficile it ees to get anyzing from zeese barbarians."

"They are hard, madame," explained Janice, "because

they deem us foes."

"But women cannot be zare enemies, and yet ze women ze

worst are. Ma foi! Weez ze army I kept through ze wilderness,

ze bois, from Canada, and not one unkind or insult did

I receef, till I came to where zere were zose of my own sex.

Would you beleef it, in Boston ze femme zay even spat at me

when I passed zem on ze street. And since from Cambridge

we started, when I haf wished for anyzing, my one prayer zat

it shall be a man and not a woman I must ask it has been.

Ze women, I say it weez shame, are ze brutes, and ze men, zay

seek to be gentle, mais, helas! zay are born of ze women!

Janice, pouring half her milk into an empty bowl that was

on the table, and dividing her eggs, smiled archly as she said,

"I fear, then, that my call is not a welcome one, since, helas!

I am a woman."

The baroness spilled the little girl from lap to floor as she

sprang to her feet and clasped the caller in her arms. "You

are une ange," she cried," and I geef you my lofe, not for now,

but for ze all time for efer."

The acquaintance thus begun ripened rapidly. In her

gratitude for the kindness, Madame de Riedesel, who had a

roomy calash and a light baggage waggon, insisted that Janice

and Mrs. Meredith should quit the springless army van in the

rear and travel henceforth with the advance in one or the

other of her vehicles, giving them far greater ease and comfort.

Sometimes the children were sent with the baggage, and the

three ladies used the calash, but more often Janice and

Madame de Riedesel rode in it, with a child on each lap,

and one sandwiched in between them, and the squire took

the empty seat beside Mrs. Meredith in the waggon.

A second generosity of the new friend was her quickly offering

to share with them the large officer's marquee that her

husband's rank had secured for her, with the comfortable beds

that formed a part of her camp equipment; and as they had

hitherto been cramped into a small field tent, with only

blankets and dead leaves laid on the frozen ground to sleep

upon, the invitation was a still greater boon. Close packing

it was, but the weather was now so cold that what was lost in

space was made up for in warmth.

It was early in January that they finally reached their destination,

--an improvised village of log huts, some two miles

from Charlottesville, named Saratoga, from the capitulation

that had served to bring it into being; but so far as the

Merediths were concerned, it meant a change rather than a

lessening of the privation. The cabin to which they were

assigned consisted of one windowless room, and was without

a chimney. They were necessarily without furniture, their

sole stock beyond their own clothing being a few blankets and

cooking utensils, which they had brought with them. Nor

were they able to purchase much that they needed at the

neighbouring town, for their cash had been seriously depleted

by what they had bought in Trenton, and by the expenses of

the march, while what was left had shrunk in value in the two

months' march from fifty dollars to seventy-five dollars, paper,

for one in gold.

Seeking to make the best of it, the three set to work diligently.

From a neighbouring mill slabs were procured, which,

being cut the right length and laid on logs, were made to do

for beds, and others served to make an equally rough table.

Sections of logs were utilised for chairs, and the squire built

a crude fireplace a few feet from the doorway. At best, however,

the discomfort was really very great. Even with the

door closed, the cabin was cold almost beyond the point of

endurance, and if it was not left open, the only light that came

to them was through the chinks of the logs. Yet their suffering

was far less than that of the troops, for many of the huts were

unfinished when they arrived, and with three feet of snow on

the ground, most of them were compelled to roof their own

quarters and even in some cases entirely build them, as a first

step to protection.

General de Riedesel, who had gone before his wife with the

first detachment, that he might arrange a home in advance,

had rented "Colle," the large house of Philip Mazzei, close to

the log barracks. Madame de Riedesel was therefore at once

in possession of comfortable quarters, and upon hearing from

Janice how they were living, she offered her a home with them.

"Come to us, liebling," she begged. "Ze children zay

lofe you so zat almost jealous I am; alreaty my goot husband

he says ze Mees Meredeez ees charmant, and I--ah, I neet

not tell it, for it tells itself."

"If it were right I would, Frederica, and I cannot thank

you enough for wanting me; but ever since mommy had the

fever she has not been really strong, and both she and dadda

need me. Perhaps though, if you and the children--whom

I dearly love--truly like me, you will help me in another

way?"

"And how?"

"I heard you complaining to Baron de Riedesel yesterday

of not being able to get a nurse. Will you not give me the

place, and let my pay be for us all to live in your garret?

We will make as little trouble--"

"Ach! Why deet I not it think before?" cried the baroness,

boxing her own ear. "Cochon! Brute! You come,

ma pauvre! Mais not as bonne, non, non."

"Indeed, Frederica, 't is the only way that we can. We

could not live upon you without in some way making a return,

and the paper money with which we furnished ourselves has

gone on falling till now 't is worth but a threepence in the

pound, so that we could not hope to pay for--"

"Bah! Who asks? You come as our guests; when you

had ze plenty of milk and eggs you shared it weez us, and so

now we share our plenty weez you. You, a proud girl, to be

a nurse, indeet!"

"'T is that pride which asks it, my dear. Ah, if you only

would let me! Mommy suffers so with the cold, and has

such a frightful cough, that every day I fear to see it become

a pneumonia, and--"

"Stop! I was ze wrong. Come as you please, a l'instant.

Ah, ze leettle ones, zay will go craze for joy; ze baron he will

geef no more eyes to ze wife who is losing her shape, and all

ze officairs, zay will say, 'Gott! How I lofe children!'

Mais, I will not angree be, but kiss you so, and so, and so.

And to all will I say, 'Voila, deet efer woman haf such a

frent for herself and such a second mutter for her children?'"

LVI

A LIFE OF CAPTIVITY

The removal to Colle was made the same day, and

Janice assumed her new charge. It was, as it

proved, not a very onerous one, for the children

were well mannered for their years, and, young as

they were, in the German method they were kept pretty

steadily at tasks, while an old servant of the general, a German

Yager, was only too delighted at any time to assume care of

them. Janice herself slept in the nursery, and at first Mr. and

Mrs. Meredith were given, as suggested, accommodation in the

garret. But the baron, not content with the space at his command,

as soon as the weather permitted, had built a large

dining-room and salon, separate from the house, and this

supplied so much more space that the parents were given a

good room on a lower floor.

The new arrangement not merely brought them comfort,

but also pleasure. Mr. and Mrs. Meredith were treated as

guests; and Madame de Riedesel made Janice quite as much

her own companion as an attendant on the children. With

her, once her nervousness was conquered, Janice talked

French entirely; and more for amusement than for improvement,

she began the study of German, with her friend as

instructor; and, having as well the aid of every Brunswick

officer, who only too gladly frequented the house, she was

soon able to both read and speak it, to the delight of the

baron, who preferred his native tongue; though his wife, German-born

as she was, could not understand how any one who

could talk French would for a moment willingly use any other

tongue. Furthermore, they taught each other the various

stitches in embroidery and crocheting each knew; and the

German, who was an excellent housewife, not merely made

Janice her assistant in the household cares, but, after expressing

horror that the girl knew nothing of accounts, spent many

hours inducting her into the mysteries by which she knew to

a farthing how her money was expended.

Although these were all pastimes rather than labours to

Janice, there were lighter hours in which she made a fourth

at whist, learned chess from the general, and played on the

harpsichord or sang to him. Once a week there was a

musicale, at which all who could play on any instrument contributed

a share, and dances and dinners were frequently

given by the Riedesels and by General Phillips, the major-general

in command of the British part of the Convention

prisoners. Horses in plenty were in the stable, and the two

ladies, well escorted by officers, took almost daily rides, the

baroness making herself a figure of remark to the natives by

riding astride her horse in a short skirt and long boots.

With the advent of summer, their pleasures became more

pastoral. So soon as the weather permitted, the gentry of

the neighbourhood came to call upon their foes, and this led

to much dining about. Then, too, there were out-of-door

fetes and picnics, oftentimes at long distances from the cantonment;

so that ere many weeks the Riedesels and the

Merediths had come to know both the people and the region

intimately.

A sudden end came to these amusements by an untoward

event. Janice and General de Riedesel had made the flower-garden

at Colle their particular charge, working there, despite

the heat, for hours each day, till early in August, when one

day the baron was found lying in a pathway unconscious, his

face blue, his hands white, and his eyes staring. He was

hurriedly carried into the house, and when the army surgeon

arrived, it was found to be a case of sunstroke. Though he

was bled copiously, the sufferer improved but slowly, and before

he was convalescent developed the "river" or "breakbone

fever." Finally he was ordered over the mountains to the

Warm Springs, to see whether their waters might not benefit

him; and, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Meredith in charge, the

baroness and Janice went with him, half as companions and

half as nurses.

Upon their arrival there, they found the Springs so crowded

that all the log cabins, which, by custom, fell to the first comers,

were already occupied. Declining an offer from one of these

to share lodgings, they set to work in a proper spot to make

themselves comfortable; for, having foreseen this very possibility,

they had come amply supplied with tents. Before they

had well begun on their encampment, two negroes in white

and red livery appeared, and the spokesman, executing a bow

that would have done honour to a lord chamberlain, handed

Madame de Riedesel a letter which read as follows:--

"Mrs. Washington preasent's her most respectful complements

to the Barones de Reedaysell, and her sattisfacshon at being informed

of her arival at the Springs. She beggs that if the

barers of this can be of aney a sistance to the Barones in setling,

that she will yuse them as long as they may be of sarvis to

her.

"Mrs. Washington likewise bespeeks the honer of the Baroneses

party to dinner today and beggs that if it will be aney conveenence

to her, that she will sup as well."

Both offers Madame de Riedesel was only too glad to accept;

and at the dinner hour, guided by the darkies, they made

their way to Lady Washington's lodgings, to find a plump,

smiling, little lady, who received them with much dignity,

properly qualified with affability. The meal was spread

underneath the trees, and they were quickly seated about

the table and chatting genially over it.

Once the newness was taken off the acquaintance, the

baroness made an appeal to the hostess for a favour. "Ah,

Laty Washington," she begged, "ze surgeons, zay declare my

goot husband he cannot recovair ze fevair in ze so hot climate,

and zat ze one goot for him will be zat he to New York restores

himself. I haf written ze prediction to Sir Henry Clinton,

applicating zat he secure ze exchange of ze baron immediatement,

mais, will you not also write to ze General Washington

and ask him, also, zees zing to accomplish?"

"I would in a moment, gladly, baroness," replied Mrs.

Washington, "but I assure you that the general would highly

disapprove of my interfering in a public matter. Do not

hesitate, however, to write yourself, for I can assure you he

will do everything in his power to spare you anxiety or

discomfort."

"Zen you zink he will my prayer grant?"

"I am sure he will, if it is possible, for, aside from his generous

treatment of every one, let me whisper to you that 't is

not a quality in his composition to say 'No' to a pretty

woman."

"Oh, no, Frederika," broke in Janice; "you need not

have the slightest fear of his Excellency. He is everything

that is kind and great and generous!"

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Washington. "You know the

general, then?"

"Oh, yes," cried Janice, rapturously; "and if you but knew,

Lady Washington, how we stand indebted to him at this very

moment!"

The hostess smiled in response to the girl's enthusiasm.

"'T is certain he refused you nothing, Miss Meredith," she

said.

"Indeed, but he did," answered Janice, merrily. "Wouldst

believe it, Lady Washington, though perhaps 't is monstrous

bold of me to tell it, 't is he that has had to keep me at a

distance, for I have courted him most outrageously!"

"'T is fortunate," replied the matron, "that he is a loyal

husband, and that I am not a jealous wife, for 't is a way all

women have with him. What think you a Virginian female,

who happened to be passing through camp, had the forwardness

to say to me but t' other day? 'When General Washington,'

she writ, 'throws off the hero and takes up the chatty,

agreeable companion, he can be downright impudent sometimes,

Martha,--such impudence as you and I, and every

woman, always like.'"

"Ah," asserted Madame de Riedesel, "ze goot men, zay

all lofe us dearly. Eh, Janice?"

"What!" demanded the hostess. "Is your name Janice?

Surely this is not my nice boy Jack's Miss Meredith?"

The girl reddened and then paled. "I beg, Lady Washington--"

she began; but the baroness, who had noted her

change of colour, cut her off.

"You haf a lofer," she cried, "and nevair one word to me

told? Ach, ingrate! And your lofe I zought it was mine.

"Miss Meredith is very different, then, from a certain gentleman,"

remarked Mrs. Washington, laughingly. "I first

gained his confidence when he lay wounded at headquarters

winter before last; but once his secret was unbosomed, I could

not so much as stop to ask how he did but he must begin and

talk of nothing but her till he became so excited and feverish

that I had to check or leave him for his own good."

"Indeed, Lady Washington," protested the girl, her lip

trembling in her endeavour to keep back the tears, "once

Colonel Brereton may have thought he cared for me, but, I

assure you, 't was but a half-hearted regard, which long since

died."

"'T is thy cruelty killed it, then," asserted Mrs. Washington,

"for, unless my eyes and ears deceived me, never was there

more eager lover than--"

"'T is not so; on the contrary, he won my heart and then

broke it with his cruelty," denied the girl, the tears coming in

spite of herself. "I pray you forgive my silly tears, and do

not speak more of this matter," she ended.

"I cannot believe it of him," responded Lady Washington.

"But 't was far from my thought to distress you, and it shall

never be spoke of more."

The subject was instantly dropped; and though Janice saw

much of Lady Washington during their three weeks' stay at

the Springs, and a mutual liking sprang up between the two,

never again was it broached save at the moment that they

set out on their return to Colic, when her new friend, along

with her farewell kiss, said, "I, too, shall soon leave the Springs,

my dear, and journey ere long to join the general at headquarters

for the winter. Have you any message for him?"

"Indeed, but I have," eagerly cried Janice. "Wilt take

him my deepest thanks?"

"And no more?"

"If your ladyship were willing," said Janice, archly, "I

would ask you to take him my love and a kiss."

"He shall have them, though I doubt not he would prefer

such gifts without a proxy," promised Mrs. Washington, smiling.

Then she whispered, "And can I not carry the same to

some one else?"

"Never!" replied the girl, grave on the instant. "Once I

cared for him, but such feeling as I had has long since died,

and nothing can ever restore it."

Keenly desirous as the Merediths were for the well-being

of the Riedesels, it was impossible for them not to feel a pang

of regret when, one morning, the baroness broke the news to

them that Washington had yielded to her prayer, that her

husband and General Phillips had at last been exchanged, and

that they were to set out within the week for New York. Yet,

even in the departure, their benefactors continued their kindness;

for, having rented Colle for two years, they placed

the house at their disposal for the balance of the lease; and

when, after tearful good-byes had been made and they were

well started on their northern journey, Janice went to her

room, she found a purse containing twenty guineas in gold as

a parting gift from the general, a breastpin of price from the

baroness, and a ring from Gustava, with a note attached to it

in the English print which Janice had taught her, declaring her

undying affection and her intention to ask God to change her

to a boy that when she grew up she might return and wed her.

The months that drifted by after this departure were lean

ones of incident. Succeeding as they did to the ample garden,

poultry, pigs, and two cows which the baron had donated to

them, they were quite at ease as to food. The junior officers

who still remained in charge of the troops saw to it that they

did not want for military servants, thus relieving them of all

severe labour; and while they deeply felt the loss of the

Riedesels, there was no lack of company.

The void the departure of the baroness and children made

in Janice's life was partly filled by an acquaintance already

made which now grew into a friendship. Soon after their settlement

at Colle, Mrs. Jefferson, wife of the Governor, who lived

but a few miles away at Monticello, had come to call on them,

a visit which she was unable to repeat, owing to her breaking

health, but this very invalidism, as it turned, tended to foster

the intimacy. Her husband being compelled by public events

to be at the capital, she was much alone, and often sent over

an invitation to Janice to come and spend a few days with

her. As a liking for the girl ripened, it induced an attempt

to serve them.

"I have spoke to Thomas of your hard lot," she told Janice,

"and repeated to him enough of the tale you told me to

convince him that your father was not the active Tory he is

reputed to be, and have at last persuaded him to write to

Governor Livingston bespeaking a permission for you to return

to your own home, if your father will but give his parole to

take no part in public affairs."

"Oh, Mrs. Jefferson, how can we ever thank you?"

"I do not deserve it, believe me, Janice, for I long postponed

what I knew I ought to do, through regret at the

thought of losing your visits."

"That but deepens our thanks. If you--"

"I'll not listen to them now," replied the friend, "for who

can say that they will come to aught? 'T will be time enough

when it has really accomplished something."

Distant as they were from the active operations of the war,

the inmates of Colle were kept pretty well informed of its

progress, for it was a constant theme of conversation, and the

movements were closely followed on the military maps of the

officers who frequented the house. From them Janice heard

how Clinton, despairing of conquering the Northern colonies

by force of arms, had resorted to bribery, but only to win the

services of an officer he did not wish, and not the desired post

of West Point; and with tears in her eyes she listened to the

news that Andre, setting ambition above honour, had paid for

the lapse with his life. Then, as the tide of war shifted, it

was explained to her why the British general, keeping tight

hold on New York as a base for operations, transferred a material

part of his forces to the South, where, in succession, he

captured Savannah and Charleston, and almost without resistance

overran the States of Georgia and the two Carolinas.

"You see, Miss Meredith," she was told, "the yeomanry of

the Northern States are so well armed that we have found it

impossible to hold the country against their militia; but in

the Southern States, aside from the difference between the

energetic Northerners and the more indolent Sonthrons, the

long distances between the plantations, and the fact that the

gentry don't dare to trust their slaves with weapons, make

them practically defenceless. The plan now seems to be,

therefore, to wear the Northern colonies out by our fleet and

by occasional descents upon the towns of the coast, while we

meantime conquer the Southern States. Had it been adopted

from the first, the strength would have been sapped out of

the rebellion and it would have been ended two years ago;

but the new strategy cannot fail, even at this late date, to

bring them to their knees in time."

An evidence of the truth of this surmise, and an abrupt ending

to the peaceful life at Saratoga, came to the little settlement

in the first week of the year 1781, when a post rider

spurred into Charlottesville with a despatch to the County

Lieutenant of Albemarle announcing that a British fleet had

entered the Capes of the Chesapeake and seized the town of

Portsmouth, and summoning the militia to embody, for Virginia

was threatened with the fate which had already befallen

her sister States to the southward.

LVII

A PAPER MONEY AND MILITIA WAR

The alarm of the British invasion was sufficient to

throw the whole of Virginia into a panic, but especially

the neighbourhood about Charlottesville, for

it was inferred that one purpose of their coming

was to attempt to liberate the Convention prisoners. The cantonment,

therefore, was hastily broken up, and all the troops

were marched over the mountains to Winchester, or northward

into Pennsylvania, scarcely time for them to pack their few

possessions being accorded to them. From this deportation

the Merediths were excepted, for as political prisoners, no

mention of them was made in the orders issued by Washington

and the Virginia Council; and so Colonel Bland left them unmolested,

the sole residents of the once overcrowded village

of huts. The removal of the prisoners proved a needless precaution,

for, after remaining but a few days, the British fleet

retired, having effected little save to frighten badly the people,

but the apprehension subsided as quickly as it had come.

The hope of quiet was a false one, for in a few months a

second expedition, under the command of Arnold, sailed up

the James River and captured and burned Richmond. To

face this new enemy, to which the militia of the State were

deemed inadequate, Washington detached a brigade under the

command of Lafayette from the Northern army, supposing

the movement, like the previous one, a mere predatory expedition,

which could be held in check by this number of

troops; and upon news that General Phillips, with reinforcements,

had joined Arnold, he further despatched a second

brigade under Wayne.

Meantime, the force under Cornwallis, after overrunning

North Carolina, now suddenly swung northward and effected a

juncture with the British force in Virginia, raising it to such

strength that Lafayette dared not risk a battle, and was left no

option, as the British advanced inland, but to fall back rapidly

toward the mountains.

These latter events succeeded one another with such rapidity

that the people of Charlottesville first heard of some of them

by the arrival of Governor Jefferson and the members of the

Assembly, to which place they had voted an adjournment just

previous to their being forced to abandon the capital. Sessions

had scarcely been begun, however, when word was brought

that the enemy was within a few miles of the town, and once

again they took to their heels and fled over the mountains into

the Shenandoah valley, escaping none too soon, as it proved,

for Tarleton's cavalry rode into the streets of Charlottesville so

close upon what was left of the government of Virginia that

some of the members were captured.

The Merediths, two miles away at Saratoga, first heard the

news of these latter events from a captain of militia, who, accompanied

by six sullen-looking companions, rode up early on

the morning of the raid and sharply ordered the three to mount

the led horses he brought with him.

"I'm ridin'," he explained, "to collect the horses and alarm

the hundreds towards Boswell's, and the county lieutenant

ordered me to take you away from here. No, I can 't wait

to have you pack."

"'T is surely not necessary that we should be treated so,"

pleaded Mr. Meredith. "My wife has not the strength to bear

along--"

"Can 't help that. Like as not the British horse ha'n't had

word that the Convention troops have been sent away, and will

ride this far, and we reckon we can't have you givin' them no

information," answered the man. "I don 't want no talk.

Into the saddle with you."

Protests and prayers were absolutely unavailing, and the

whole party hurriedly set off at the best pace the horses were

able to go. As they journeyed, a halt was made at each cabin

and each plantation, and every white man found was summarily

ordered by the captain to get his gun and join the party; while

at each place all the horses were impressed, not merely to

carry those unprovided with one, but to prevent their falling

into the hands of the foe. Nor did the captain pay more heed

to the expostulations and grumblings of the men, at being

called away from their crops at the busiest farming season, nor

of the women, at being deprived of their protectors in times of

such danger, than he had to the weaker ones of the Merediths.

"The invasion law just passed by the'sembly calls out every

man as can fight, and declares every one as won't a traitor, so

you can take your choice of shootin' at the British or bein' shot

by us," was the captain's unvarying formula, be the complaints

what they might.

As if to make the ill feeling the greater, too, he told the

whole party at one point of the route, "If you-alls had been

patriots and 'listed four weeks ago, you 'd every one of you've

got a bounty of five hundred dollars of the money my saddle-bags

is filled with; but you had n't spunk, so it serves you-ails

good and handsome that now you've got to fight for 'nary a

shillin'."

"We would n't have been a tinker's damn the richer if we

had," snarled one of the unwilling conscripts. "I'd rather

have a pound of hay than the same weight in cursed state

money, for you can feed the hay to a hoss, but I'm consarned

if t' other 's good for anythin'."

"Say, cap," asked a second, "has you ralely got them

saddle-bags o' yourn filled with the stuff?"

"Ay. The presses were at Charlottesville busy strikin' it,

and I was told to help save what was already printed

from capture."

"Lord! the British would n't have seized that, with all the

cord wood there is in Charlottesville, to say nothin' of grind-stones

and ploughs and chimbleys built of brick and other

things of value," asserted the original speaker.

"Might come handy along of all the terbacker they've took

down to Petersburg. Do to light a pipe with, I reckon," suggested

another.

"Say, cap," again spoke up the second speaker, "the

raison as why I asked that there question is that we'll be

gettin' to Hunker's ordinary at the four corners right smart

off now, and I was calculatin' if you had enough of the rags

with you to set us up a drink all round? 'T won't cost more 'n

ten thousand dollars if Hunkers ain't in an avaricious mood."

The officer had been absolutely inattentive to the complaints

and growls, but the quizzing made him lose his

temper. "You-alls shut your jaws, the lot of you, or when

we reach the roundyvous this evenin' I'll report you to

the kurnel and you'll get the guard-house or worse," he

threatened. "I'm danged if I don't believe every one of

you-alls is a Tory at heart."

"A little more o' this'll make me one," muttered a man

who hitherto had been silent, but he spoke so low as to be

heard by his fellow unfortunates only, and not by the captain.

"Don 't talk to me of the tyranny of Britain after this!"

responded his immediate neighbour.

The militia officer would have done better to let the dissatisfaction

find its vent in jokes; for, deprived of this outlet,

the malcontents took to whispering among themselves in

a manner that boded ill for something or somebody. But

he was too busy securing each new recruit and each horse

to give attention to the signs that might have warned him.

A rude awakening came to the captain when the motley

cavalcade drew up at the ordinary at the cross-roads, for as

he was in the act of dismounting, two of the party, who had

been more expeditious in their movements, caught him by the

leg as he swung it clear of the saddle, and brought him violently

to the ground. He was held in that position while his

hands and feet were tied with his own bridle, as many of the

men as could get about him assisting in the operation, while

the remainder, the Merediths excepted, kept up a chorus of

approving remarks, or of gibing and mocking comments on

the officer's half-smothered menaces and oaths. Once secured,

he was dragged to the guide-post, and with his stirrup

straps was fastened to it securely. This done, his saddle-bags

were pulled off his horse and the paper money was emptied

out and heaped about his feet. Meantime, and as an evidence

of how carefully every detail of their revenge had been

planned, one of the ring-leaders had disappeared into the

tavern, and now returned with a lighted brand.

"You can threat and cuss all you hanker," he chuckled.

"If we ain't to have no bounty, we'll give you some of ourn,"

he added malignantly, as he stooped and set fire to the pile

of bills.

"Oh, don't!" screamed Janice. "Dadda, stop them!

"For shame!" echoed Mr. Meredith, swinging out of his

saddle, in which hitherto he had remained a passive spectator.

"Hands off," warned the torch-bearer, "if you don't want

to be tied alongside of him."

There was nothing to do, and the ladies were only able to

turn their backs on the sight; but they could not thus escape

the howls of terror and pain that the miserable victim uttered,

though the squire sought to save them from this by taking

hold of the two bridles and leading their horses away.

This movement served to attract their attention to something

hitherto not observed, and which the absorption of the

militia in their revenge still prevented them from noting. On

the road by which they had come arose a thick cloud of dust,

out of which horsemen seemed to be riding, but, though they

came on at a hand gallop, the screen, swept onward by the

breeze, kept pace with the riders, and even at times hid now one,

now all, from view, causing the squire, who first caught sight

of the phenomenon, to rub his eyes, that he might have assurance

that it was not a phantasm of his brain. Of this another

sense furnished quick evidence, for even above the jeers of the

torturers and the shrieks of the tortured sounded the clatter of

hoofs. At the first warning, cries of alarm escaped from many

mouths, and with the fright of guilt, there was a wild stampede

for the horses; before the half of them were in the saddle,

the thunder of a column of horse was close upon them, and

as, mounted and unmounted, they scattered, there came a rush

of red-coated troopers in amongst them. Loud above the

tumult and uproar came the sharp order,--

"Capture what men you can, but don't let a horse

escape!"

Mr. Meredith, the moment the militia had deserted the fire,

rushed forward, and with three kicks scattered the flaming

currency from about the man's legs,--a proceeding which

attracted the attention of the officer who gave the order.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, but all the

reply he received was a startled exclamation which burst from

the squire.

"What!" he ejaculated. "Why, this passes very belief!

Pox me, if 't is not Phil Hennion."

LVIII

FROM BLUE RIDGE TO TIDE WATER

For a few moments the mingled exclamations, greetings,

and questions were too broken and mixed to tell any

of them much, but the first surprise over, the Merediths

explained their presence.

"I knew from the baroness that you were at Colle, and

bitter was the disappointment when I found you gone this

morning. But my grief then makes me but the happier now."

"But how came ye here, lad?" questioned the squire.

"We were sent on a raid to Charlottesville, with orders

to rejoin the main army at Point of Fork, and I was detached

by Colonel Tarleton this morning to take this route, hoping

to get more information concerning Lafayette's whereabouts

and movements."

"I heard this fellow," said Mr. Meredith, indicating the

still captive and moaning man, "who is a captain of militia,

tell the men he was draughting that they were to march, as

soon as embodied, to join the rebel army at Raccoon Ford."

"Hah! the junction with Wayne's force emboldens him

to show us something more than his back at last. 'T is all

I wish to learn, and we can now take the shortest road to

rejoin Lord Cornwallis. Strap me! but 't was a heaven-sent

chance that we should come just in the nick o' time to rescue

you. There shall be no more captivity, that I can promise

you." He turned to the now reassembled squadron, and

ordered, "Parole your prisoners, Captain Cameron, and let

them go. You, Lieutenant Beatty, bring up the best extra

mount you have, and arrange as comfortable a place as

possible for the ladies in one of the baggage-waggons."

"A suggestion, major," spoke up another officer. "Sergeant

McDonald reports that there is a chaise in the tavern

barn, and--"

"Put horse to it, and have it out before you set fire to the

buildings," interrupted Hennion.

"What!" ejaculated Mr. Meredith. "Art thou a major,

Phil?"

"Ay, squire. I've fought my way up two grades since last

we met."

There was a greater change in the officer than of rank, for

his once long and ungainly frame had broadened and filled

out into that of a well-formed, powerful man. His face, too,

had lost its lankness, to its great improvement, for the

features were strong, and, with the deep tan which the

Southern campaigns had given it, had become, from being

one of positive homeliness, one of decided distinction. But

the most marked alteration was in his speech and bearing, for

all trace of the awkward had disappeared from both; he

spoke with facility and authority, and he sat his horse with

soldierly erectness and ease.

The ladies were soon bestowed in the chaise, the bugle

sounded, and the flying column resumed its movement. Little

they saw of the commander all day, for he rode now with the

foremost troop, and now with the rear one, keenly alert to all

that was taking place, asking questions at each farmhouse as to

roads, bridges, rivers, distances, the people, and everything

which could be of value. Only when the heat of the day

came, and they halted for a few hours' rest at a plantation, did

he come to them, and then only for a brief word as to their

accommodation. He offered Mrs. Meredith and Janice the

best the house afforded, but, with keen recollections of their

own sufferings, they refused to dispossess the women occupants

from their home, and would accept in food and lodgings only

what they had to spare. Indeed, though as far as possible it

had been kept from their sight, the march had brought a

realising sense to them, almost for the first time, of the full

horror of the war, and made them appreciate that their own

experience, however bad they had deemed it, was but that of

hundreds. The day had been one long scene of rapine and

destruction. At each plantation they had seen all serviceable

horses seized, and the rest of the stock, young or old, slaughtered,

all provisions of use to the army made prize of, and the

remainder, with the buildings that held it, put to the torch, and

the young crops of wheat, corn, and tobacco, so far as time

allowed, destroyed. Under cover of all this, too, there was

looting by the dragoons, which the officers could not prevent,

try their best.

There was a still worse terror, of which, fortunately, the

Merediths saw nothing. Large numbers of the negroes took

advantage of the incursion, and indeed were encouraged by

the cavalry, to escape from slavery by following in the rear of

the column; and as the white men were either with the Virginia

militia, or were in hiding away from the houses, the

women were powerless to prevent the blacks from plundering,

or from any other excess it pleased them to commit. The Old

Dominion, the last State of the thirteen to be swept over by the

foe, was harried as the Jerseys had been, but by troops made

less merciful by many a fierce conflict, and by its own servitors,

debased by slavery to but one degree above the brute. Only

with death did the people forget the enormities of those few

months, when Cornwallis's army cut a double swath from tide

water almost to the mountains, and Tarleton's and Simcoe's

cavalry rode whither they pleased; and the hatred of the

British and the fear of their own slaves outlasted even the

passing away of the generation which had suffered.

It was on the afternoon of the following day that the detachment

effected a juncture with the main army, and so soon as

Major Hennion had reported, Lord Cornwallis, who was quartered

at Elk Hill, an estate of Jefferson's, sent word that he

wished to see Mr. Meredith at once, and extended an invitation

to them all to share the house. He questioned the squire

for nearly an hour as to the whereabouts of the Convention

prisoners, the condition of the State, and the feeling of the

people.

"All you tell me tallies with such information as I have procured

elsewhere," he ended; "and had I but a free hand I

make certain I could destroy Lafayette and completely subjugate

the State in one campaign."

"Surely, my Lord, you could not better serve the king. Virginia

has been the great hot-bed of sedition, and if she were

once smothered, the fire would quickly die out."

"Almost the very words I writ to Sir Henry, but he declares

it out of the question to leave me the troops with which to effect

it. As you no doubt are aware, a French force has been

landed at Rhode Island, and is even now on its march to join

Mr. Washington; and, by a fortunate interception of some of

his despatches to Congress, we have full information that the

united force intend an attack on New York. So I am ordered

to fall down to a good defensive post on the Chesapeake and

to send a material part of my army to his aid."

When finally the interview was ended, and Mr. Meredith

asked one of the aides to take him to his room, it was explained

that Mrs. Meredith and her daughter had been put in

one and that he was to have a share of another.

"You 'd have had the floor or a tent, sir," his guide told

him, as he threw open the door, "but for Lord Clowes saying

he'd take you in."

Surely enough, it was the commissary who warmly grasped

the squire's hand as he entered, and who cried, "Welcome to

ye, friend Meredith! I heard of your strange arrival from

nowhere, and glad I was to be assured ye were still in the

flesh and once more among friends."

"Ye've clear surprised my breath out of my windpipe,"

returned the squire. "Who 'd have thought to find ye here?"

"And where else should I be, but where there 's an army to

be fed, and crops to feed them? I' faith, never was there a

richer harvest field for one who knows how to garner it.

Why, man, aside from the captures of tobacco, now worth a

great price, and other gains, over six thousand pounds I've

made in the last two years, by shipping niggers, who think

they are escaping to freedom, to our West India islands, and

selling them to the planters there. This war is a perfect gold

mine.

"Little of that it 's been to me," lamented his listener.

"Ye can make it such, an' it please ye. She perceived me

not, but I saw your daughter as ye rode up, and though I

thought myself well cured of the infatuation, poof! one gloat

was enough to set my blood afire, as if I were but a boy of

eighteen again. Lord Clowes, with a cool ninety thousand, is

ready to make her fortune and yours."

"Nay, Clowes, ye know I've passed my word to Hennion,

and--"

"Who'll not outlive the war, ye may make sure. The

fellow 's made himself known through the army by the way he

puts himself forward in every engagement. Some one of

these devilish straight-shooting riflemen will release that

promise for ye."

"I trust not; but if it so falls, there 'd still be a bar to your

wish. The girl dislikes ye very--"

"Dost not know that is no bad beginning? Nay, man, see

if I bring her not round, once I have a clear field. I've

thought it out even now while I've waited for ye. We'll sail

for New York on one of the ships that carries Lord Cornwallis's

reinforcements to Clinton, and as 't will be some years

still ere the country is entirely subdued, out of the question

't will be that ye go to Greenwood. I will resign my post, being

now rich enough, and we'll all go to London, where I'll

take a big house, and ye shall be my guests. Once let the

girl taste of high life, with its frocks and jewels and carriages,

and all that tempts the sex, and she'll quickly see their provider

in a new light."

"'T is little ye know of my lass, Clowes."

"Tush! I know women to the very bottom; and is she

more than a woman?"

Their conference was ended by the call to supper, and in

the hallway the baron attempted as hearty a greeting with the

ladies as he had with the squire. Though taken by surprise, a

distant curtsey was all he gained from them, and do his best,

he could get little of their conversation during the meal.

On rising, Philemon, who had been a guest at table, drew

the squire to one side. "The legion is ordered on a foray to

destroy the military stores at Albemarle Court-house, and in

this hot weather we try to do our riding at night, to spare our

cattle, so we shall start away about eleven o'clock. His Lordship

tells me that the army will begin to fall down to the coast

in a day or two, so it may be a some time before I see you

again. Have you money?"

"A bare trifle, but I'll not further rob ye, lad, till I get to

the end of my purse.

"Do not fear to take from me, sir. A major's pay is very

different from a cornet's. 'T will make me feel easier, and, in

fact, 't will be safer with you than with me," Phil said, as he

forced a rouleau of coin into the squire's palm. Then, not

waiting for Mr. Meredith's protests or thanks, he crossed to

where Janice was talking with three of the staff and broke in

upon their conversation: "Janice, a soldier goes or stays not

as he pleases, but as the bugle orders, and there is more work

cut out for us, but this evening I am free. Wilt come and

stroll along the river-bank for an hour?"

"Dash your impudence, Hennion!" protested one of the

group. "Do you think you fellows of the cavalry can plunder

everything? Pay no heed to him, Miss Meredith, I beg of

you."

"Ay," echoed another, 't is the artillery the major should

belong to, for he'd do to repair the brass cannon."

The girl stood irresolute for a breath, then, though she

coloured, she said steadily, "Certainly, if you wish it,

Philemon."

While they were passing the rows of camp-fires and tents,

the major was silent, but once these were behind them he

said:--

"'T would be idle, Janice, to make any pretence of why I

wished to see you apart. You must know it as well as I."

"I suppose I do, Philemon," assented the girl, quietly.

"A long time we've been parted, but not once has my love

for you lessened, and--and in Philadelphia you held out a

little hope that I've lived on ever since. You said that the

squire held to his promise, and that--did you--do you still

think as you--"

"Have you spoken to dadda?"

"No. For--for I was afraid he'd force you against your

will. Once I was eager to take you even so, but I hope you

won't judge me for that. I was an unthinking boy then."

"We all make mistakes, Philemon, and would that I could

outlive mine as well as you have yours," Janice answered

gently.

"Then--then--you will?"

"If dadda still--Before I answer--I--something must

be told that I wish--oh, how I wish, for your sake and for

mine!--had never been. I gave--I tried to be truthful to

you, Philemon, but, unknown to myself, some love I gave to

--to one I need not name, and though I--though he quickly

killed it, 't is but fair that you should know that the little

heart--for I--I fear me I am cold by nature--I had to

give was wasted on another. But if, after this confession,

you still would have me for a wife, and dadda and mommy

wish it, I will wed you, and try my best to be dutiful and

loving."

"'T is all I ask," eagerly exclaimed Philemon, as he caught

her hand, and drew her toward him. "Ah, Janice, if you but

knew how I love--"

"Ho! there ye are," came the voice of the commissary not

five paces away. "I saw ye go toward the river, and followed."

"My Lord, Miss Meredith and I are engaged in a private

conversation, and cannot but take your intrusion amiss."

"Fudge, man, is not the night hot enough but ye must

blaze up so? Nor is the river-bank your monopoly."

"Keep it all, then, and a good riddance to the society you

enjoy it with. Come, Janice, we'll back to the house."

At the doorway Philemon held out his hand. "We ride

away while you will be sleeping, but 't is a joyous heart you

let me carry."

"I am glad if I--if you are happy," responded the girl,

as she let him press her fingers. Then, regardless of the

sentry, she laid her free hand on Phil's arm impulsively and

imploringly, as she added, "Oh, Philemon, please--whatever

else you are, please don't be hard and cruel to me."

"I'll try my best not to be, though 't is difficult for a

soldier to be otherwise; but, come what may, I'll never pain

or deny you knowingly, Janice."

"'T is all I beg. But be kind and generous, and I'll love

you in time."

Rub-a-dub went the drums, sounding tattoo, and the beating

brought several officers scurrying out of the house. Philemon

kissed the girl's hand, and hurried away to his squadron.

Two days the army remained encamped at the Fork, then

by easy marches it followed the river down to Richmond,

where a rest was taken. Once again getting in motion, it fell

back on Williamsburg and halted, for it was now the height

of summer, and the heat so intense that the troops were

easily exhausted. Finally, the British retired across the James

River, and took up a position at Portsmouth.

In the month thus spent, not once was Major Hennion able

to get a word with Janice, for Lafayette followed closely upon

the heels of the invaders until they were safe over the James,

and there was constant skirmishing between the van and rear

and two sharp encounters, which kept Tarleton's and Simcoe's

cavalry, when they had rejoined, fully occupied in covering

the retreat, while the Merediths and other loyalists who had

joined the army travelled with the baggage in the advance.

The occupation of Portsmouth was brief, for upon the

engineers reporting that the site was not one which could be

fortified, the British general put his troops on board of such

shipping as he could gather and transferred them bodily to

Yorktown. Here he set the army, and the three thousand

negroes who had followed them, leisurely to laying out lines

of earthworks, that he might hold the post with the reduced

number which would be left him after he detached the reinforcements

needed at New York, and despatched a sloop-of-war

to Clinton, with word that he but awaited the arrival of

transports to send him whatever regiments he should direct.

If Hennion, by his constant service at the front, was helpless

to assist his friends, Clowes, who was always with the

baggage train, was unending in his favours. He secured them

a stock of clothing, and assigned to them two admirable

servants from the horde of runaway slaves; he promptly procured

for them a more comfortable travelling carriage, and he

made their lodgings a matter of daily concern, so that they

always fared with the best, while his gifts of wine and other

delicacies were almost embarrassingly frequent. At Yorktown,

too, where the village of about sixty houses supplied but the

poorest and scantiest accommodations for both man and beast,

he managed to have the custom-house assigned for his own use,

and then placed all the rooms the Merediths needed at their

disposal. If Janice's preferences had been spoken and regarded,

everything he did in their behalf would have been declined;

but her mother's real need of the comforts of life, and

her father's love of them, were arguments too strong for her

own wishes, and by placing them under constant obligation to

the baron made it impossible for her not to treat him with

outward courtesy whenever he sought their company, which

was with every opportunity. Yet it was in vain that the commissary

plied her with his old-time arts of manner and tongue.

Even the slow mind of the squire took note that he gained no

ground with his daughter.

"'T is a tougher task ye've undertaken even than ye

counted upon," he said, one evening over the wine, as Janice

left the table at the earliest possible instant.

"Tut! give me time. I'll bring her around yet."

"I warned ye the maid had ye deep in her bad books."

"What 's a month? If a woman yields in that time, a man

may save himself the parson's fee, and it please him."

"Still, though she is a good lass in most things, I must own

to ye that she bath a strange vein of obstinacy in her, which

she comes by from her mother."

"Then I'll use that same obstinacy to win her. Dost not

know that every quality in a female is but a means by which

to ensnare her? Let me once know a woman's virtues and frailties,

and I'll make each one of them serve my suit."

"'T is more than a month ye've been striving to win her

regard."

"Ay; but for some reason, in Philadelphia I could ne'er

keep my head when with her, and as often went back as

forward, curse it! 'Better slip with foot than with tongue,'

runs the old saying, and I did both with her. I've learned

my lesson now, and once give me a clear field and ye shall

see how 't will be."

The squire shook his head. "She's promised to Major

Hennion, and after much folly and womanishness at last

she's found her mind, and tells me she will cheerfully wed

him."

"And how will the lot of ye live, man?" asked Clowes,

crossly. "Hast not had word that Jersey has enacted a general

act of forfeiture and escheatage 'gainst all Royalists?"

"That I'd not," answered the squire, pulling a long face.

"I suppose that has taken Greenwood from us?"

"Ay, for I saw the very advertisement of the sale, and

have not told ye before merely to spare you distress. And

't will strip Hennion of his acres as well, I take it. Wilt deliberately

marry her to a penniless man?"

"Boxely never was his, and I doubt not his scamp of a

father will find some way to save it to him. I'll not tarry

longer, for 't is ill news ye have just broke to me, and I must

carry it to Matilda. It gives us but a black future to which to

look forward."

Mr. Meredith gone from the room, the commissary took

from his pocket a copy of Gaines' "New York Gazette and

Weekly Mercury," which had come to him but that morning,

and re-read an account it contained, taken from the "New

Jersey Gazette," of the sale of Greenwood to Esquire Hennion.

"'T is my devil's ill luck that he, of all men, should

buy it," he muttered. "However, if I can but get them to

New York, away from this dashing dragoon, and then persuade

them to cross the Atlantic, 't will matter not who owns it."

He rose, stretched himself, and as he did so, he repeated the

words:--

"I and chance, against any two;

Time and I against chance and you."

LIX

TRAITORS IN THE REAR

On a broiling August day in the year 1781, an officer

rode along the Raritan between Middle-Brook and

Brunswick. As he approached the entrance of

Greenwood, he slowed his horse, and after a moment's

apparent hesitation, finally turned him through the gateway.

Once at the porch he drew rein and looked for a time at

the paintless clap-boards, broken window-panes, and tangle of

vines and weeds, all of which told so plainly the story of

neglect and desertion. Starting his steed, he passed around

to the kitchen door, and rapped thrice with the butt of a

pistol without gaining any reply. Wheeling about, he was

returning to the road when an idea seemed to come to him,

for, altering direction, he pulled on his bridle, and turned his

horse into the garden, now one dense overgrowth. Guiding

him along one of the scarcely discernible paths, he checked

him at a garden seat, and leaning in his saddle plucked half

a dozen sprays of honeysuckle from the vine which surmounted

it. He touched them to his lips, and gave his horse the spur.

He held the sprays in his hand as he rode, occasionally raising

them to his face until he was on the edge of Brunswick

village, then he slipped them into his sword sash.

Giving his horse into the hands of the publican at the

tavern, he crossed the green to the parsonage and knocked.

"Is Parson McClave within?" he inquired of the hired girl.

"Come in, come in, Colonel Brereton," called a voice from

the sitting-room; "and all the more welcome are you that I

did not know you were in these parts."

"My regiment was ordered across the river to Chatham last

week, to build ovens for the coming attack on New York, and

I took a few hours off to look up old friends," Brereton answered

in a loud voice. "Where can we safely talk?" he

whispered.

"I'll leave my sermon even as it is," said the presbyter,

"and it being hot here, let us into the meeting-house yard,

where we'll get what breeze comes up the river. Eager I

am to learn of what the army is about."

Once they were seated among the gravestones, the colonel

said "I need not tell you that five times in the last two months

the continental post-riders have been waylaid 'twixt Brunswick

and Princeton by scoundrels in the pay of the British. Only

once, fortunately, was there information of the slightest importance,

but 't is something that must be stopped; and General

Washington, knowing of my familiarity with this neighbourhood,

directed me to discover and bring the wretches to punishment.

Because I can trust you, I come to ask if you have any

information or even inkling that can be of service?"

"Surely, man, you do not suspect any one in my parish?"

replied the clergyman.

Brereton smiled slightly. "There is little doubt that the

secret Tories of Monmouth County are concerned; but there is

some confederate in Brunswick, who, whether he takes an

active share, supplies them with information concerning the

routes, days, and hours of the posts. I see, however, you have

no light to shed on the matter."

"'T is all news to me," answered the minister, shaking his head.

"I knew that there was some illicit trading with New York, but

that we had real traitors amongst us I never dreamed."

"Trap them I will, before many weeks," asserted the

officer. "If in no other way, I'll--"

The sentence was interrupted by the clang of the church

bell above them.

"Bless me!" cried McClave, springing to his feet. "Your

call has made me forget the auction, which, as justice of the

peace, I must attend."

"What auction?"

"For the sale of Greenwood under the statute."

The officer frowned. "I feared it when I read of the

passing of a general act of forfeiture and escheatage," he

muttered, "though I still hoped 't would not extend to them."

Together the two men crossed the green to the town hall,

where now a crowd, consisting of almost every inhabitant

of the village and of the outlying farms, was assembled. The

officer, a scowl on his face, paused in the doorway and glanced

about, then threaded his way to where two negresses stood

weeping, and began talking to them. Meanwhile, the clergyman,

pushing on through the throng, joined Esquire Hennion

and Bagby, who for some reason were suspiciously eying each

other on the platform.

"I intend to bid on the property, McClave," announced

the Honourable Joseph, "so 't is best that the squire takes

charge of the sale."

"Thet 'ere is jes what I'm a-calkerlatin' ter do, likewise,"

responded Hennion, with an ugly glance at Joe, "so I guess

yer'll hev ter assoom the runnin' of the perseedins yerself,

paason."

There was a moment's consultation, and then Justice

McClave stepped forward and read in succession the text

of an act of the New Jersey Assembly, a proclamation of the

Governor, and an advertisement from the "New Jersey

Gazette" by which documents, and by innumerable whereases

and therefores, it was set forth that a state of war existed with

Great Britain; that sundry inhabitants of the State, forgetful

of their just duty and allegiance, had aided and abetted the common

enemy; that by these acts they placed themselves outside

of the laws of the commonwealth, their property became forfeited,

and was ordered sold for the benefit of the State; that the

property of one Lambert Meredith, who had been attainted, both

by proclamation and by trial, of high treason, was therefore within

the act; and, finally, that there would be sold to the highest

bidder, at the court-house of the town of Brunswick, on the

sixteenth day of August next ensuing, the said property of the

said Lambert Meredith; namely, "Two likely negro women,

who can cook and spin," and thirty thousand acres of choice

arable farm and wood lands under cultivation lease, with one

house, one stable, and corn-cribs and other outbuildings

thereto appertaining.

It took not five minutes to sell the sobbing slaves, the

tavern-keeper buying Sukey for the sum of forty-one pounds,

and the clergyman announcing himself at the end of the

bidding as the purchaser of Peg for thirty-nine pounds, six.

Then amidst a silence which told of the interest of the

crowd, the auctioneer read out a description of the bounds

and acreage of Greenwood, and asked for bids.

"Nine thousand pounds," instantly offered Bagby.

"Five hunded more," rejoined Hennion.

"Ten thousand," snapped Joe.

"Five hunded more," snarled his rival bidder.

"Eleven thousand," came Joe's counter bid.

"Thirteen thousand."

"And five hundred."

"Fifteen thousand."