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THE SHY. 
 

Berry well, now lo ole Mm trengh.'. said, the Hack., 
 peeping over Hie lions ekeeper's shoulder, as he held a 
 long. lank, candle of yello'W tallow, in snch a in aimer 
 as to throw its feehle light on the ■volume." 
 
 HEW TDRK . "WAT OtAOsT SEND & 
 
THE SPY 
 
 A TALE 
 
 OF THE NEUTRAL GROUND. 
 
 BY 
 
 J. FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
 Who never to himself hath said. 
 
 This is my own, my native T and ! ” 
 
 ILLUSTRATED FROM DRAWINGS 
 
 cff* 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 W. A. TOWNSEND AND COMPANY. 
 
 1861 . 
 
Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 
 W. A. TOWNSEND AND COMPANY, 
 
 In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York 
 
 C. A. ALVORD. PRINTER, NEW YORK. 
 
%l3 
 
 Cl%sp 
 
 \%to\ 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The author has often been asked if there were any 
 foundation in real life, for the delineation of the prin- 
 cipal character in this book. He can give no clearer 
 answer to the question, than by laying before his read- 
 ers a simple statement of the facts connected with its 
 original publication. 
 
 Many years since, the writer of this volume was at 
 the residence of an illustrious man, who had been 
 employed in various situations of high trust during 
 the darkest days of the American revolution. The 
 discourse turned upon the effects which great political 
 excitement produce on character, and the purifying con- 
 sequences of a love of country, when that sentiment is 
 powerfully and generally awakened in a people. He 
 who, from his years, his services, and his knowledge of 
 
vi 
 
 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 men, was best qualified to take the lead in such a con- 
 versation, was the principal speaker. After dwelling 
 on the marked manner in which the great struggle of 
 the nation, during the w r ar of 1775, had given a new 
 and honorable direction to the thoughts and practices 
 of multitudes whose time had formerly been engrossed 
 by the most vulgar concerns of life, he illustrated his 
 opinions by relating an anecdote, the truth of which he 
 could attest as a personal witness. 
 
 The dispute between England and the United States 
 of America, though not strictly a family quarrel, had 
 many of the features of a civil war. The people of the 
 latter were never properly and constitutionally subject 
 to the people of the former, but the inhabitants of both 
 countries owed allegiance to a common king. The 
 Americans, as a nation, disavowed this allegiance, and 
 the English choosing to support their sovereign in the 
 attempt to regain his power, most of the feelings of an 
 internal struggle were involved in the conflict. A 
 large proportion of the emigrants from Europe, then 
 established in the colonies, took part with the crown ; 
 and there were many districts in which their influence, 
 united to that of the Americans who refused to lay 
 aside their allegiance, gave a decided preponderance 
 to the royal cause. America was then too young, and 
 too much in need of every heart and hand, to regard 
 these partial divisions, small as they were in actual 
 amount, with indifference. The evil was greatly in- 
 creased by the activity of the English in profiting by 
 these internal dissensions ; and it became doubly serious 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 vii 
 
 when it was found that attempts were made to raise 
 various corps of provincial troops, who were to be 
 banded with those from Europe, to reduce the young 
 republic to subjection. Congress named an especial 
 and a secret committee, therefore, for the express pur- 
 pose of defeating this object. Of this committee Mr. 
 , the narrator of the anecdote, was chairman. 
 
 In the discharge of the novel duties which now de- 
 volved on him, Mr. had occasion to employ an 
 
 agent whose services differed but little from those of a 
 common spy. This man, as will easily be understood, 
 belonged to a condition in life which rendered him the 
 least reluctant to appear in so equivocal a character. 
 He was poor, ignorant, so far as the usual instruction 
 was concerned ; but cool, shrewd, and fearless by na- 
 ture. It was his office to learn in what part of the 
 country the agents of the crown were making their 
 efforts to embody men, to repair to the place, enlist, 
 appear zealous in the cause he affected to serve, and 
 otherwise to get possession of as many of the secrets of 
 the enemy as possible. The last he of course commu- 
 nicated to his employers, who took all the means in 
 their power to counteract the plans of the English, and 
 frequently with success. 
 
 It will readily be conceived that a service like this 
 was attended with great personal hazard. In addition 
 to the danger of discovery, there was the daily risk of 
 falling into the hands of the Americans themselves, 
 who invariably visited sins of this nature more severely 
 on the natives of the country than on the Europeans 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 viii 
 
 who fell into their hands. In fact, the agent of Mr. 
 
 was several times arrested by the local authorities ; 
 
 and, in one instance, he was actually condemned by 
 his exasperated countrymen to the gallows. Speedy 
 and private orders to his gaoler alone saved him from 
 an ignominious death. He was permitted to escape ; 
 and this seeming, and indeed actual, peril was of great 
 aid in supporting his assumed character among the 
 English. By the Americans, in his little sphere, he 
 was denounced as a bold and inveterate Tory. In this 
 manner he continued to serve his country in secret 
 during the early years of the struggle, hourly environed 
 by danger, and the constant subject of unmerited op- 
 probrium. 
 
 In the year Mr. was named to a high and 
 
 honorable employment at a European court. Before 
 vacating his seat in Congress, he reported to that body 
 an outline of the circumstances related, necessarily 
 suppressing the name of his agent, and demanding an 
 appropriation in behalf of a man who had been of so 
 much use, at so great risk. A suitable sum was voted, 
 and its delivery was confided to the chairman of the 
 secret committee. 
 
 Mr. took the necessary means to summon his 
 
 agent to a personal interview^. They met in a wood, 
 at midnight. Here Mr. complimented his com- 
 
 panion on his fidelity and adroitness ; explained the 
 necessity of their communications being closed ; and 
 finally tendered the money. The other drew back, and 
 declined receiving it. “ The country has need of all its 
 
INTRODUCTION.' 
 
 IX 
 
 means,” lie said ; “ as for myself, I can work, or gain a 
 livelihood in various ways.” Persuasion was useless, 
 for patriotism was uppermost in the heart of this re- 
 markable individual; and Mr. departed, bearing 
 
 with him the gold he had brought, and a deep respect 
 for the man who had so long hazarded his life, unre- 
 quited, for the cause they served in common. 
 
 The writer is under an impression that, at a later day, 
 the agent of Mr. consented to receive a remuner- 
 
 ation for what he had done; but it was not until his 
 country was entirely in a condition to bestow it. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to add, that an anecdote like 
 this, simply but forcibly told by one of its principal 
 actors, made a deep impression on all who heard it. 
 Many years later, circumstances, which it is unnecessary 
 to relate, and of an entirely adventitious nature, in- 
 duced the writer to publish a novel, which proved to 
 be, what he little foresaw at the time, the first of a tol- 
 erably long series. The same adventitious causes which 
 gave birth to the book, determined its scene and its 
 general character. The former was laid in a foreign 
 country ; and the latter embraced a crude effort to de- 
 scribe foreign manners. When this tale was published, 
 it became matter of reproach among the author’s friends, 
 that he, an American in heart as in birth, should give 
 to the world a work which aided perhaps, in some 
 slight degree, to feed the imaginations of the young and 
 unpractised among his own countrymen, by pictures 
 drawn from a state of society so different from that to 
 which he belonged. The writer, while he knew how 
 
X 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 much of what he had done was purely accidental, felt 
 the reproach to be one that, in a measure, was just. 
 As the only atonement in his power, he determined to 
 inflict a second book, whose subject should admit of no 
 cavil, not only on the world, but on himself. He chose 
 patriotism for his theme ; and to those who read this 
 introduction and the book itself, it is scarcely necessary 
 to add, that he took the hero of the anecdote just related 
 as the best illustration of his subject. 
 
 Since the original publication of “ The Spy,” there 
 have appeared several accounts of different persons who 
 are supposed to have been in the author’s mind while 
 
 writing the book. As Mr. did not mention the 
 
 name of his agent, the writer never knew any more of 
 his identity with this or that individual, than has been 
 here explained. Both Washington and Sir Henry 
 Clinton had an unusual number of secret emissaries ; in 
 a war that partook so much of a domestic character, 
 and in which the contending parties were people of the 
 same blood and language, it could scarcely be otherwise. 
 
 The style of the book has been revised by the author 
 in this edition. In this respect, he has endeavored to 
 make it more worthy of the favor with which it has 
 been received ; though he is compelled to admit there 
 are faults so interwoven with the structure of the tale 
 that, as in the case of a decayed edifice, it would cost 
 perhaps less to reconstruct than to repair. Five- an d- 
 twenty years have been as ages with most things con- 
 nected with America. Among other advances, that of 
 her literature has not been the least. So little was ex- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XI 
 
 pected from the publication of an original work of this 
 description, at the time it was written, that the first 
 volume of “ The Spy” was actually printed several 
 months, before the author felt a sufficient inducement 
 to write a line of the second. The efforts expended on 
 a hopeless task are rarely worthy of him who makes 
 them, however low it may be necessary to rate the 
 standard of his general merit. 
 
 One other anecdote connected with the history of 
 this book, may give the reader some idea of the hopes 
 of an American author, in the first quarter of the pres- 
 ent century. As the second volume was slowly print- 
 ing, from manuscript that was barely dry wdien it went 
 into the compositor’s hands, the publisher intimated 
 that the work might grow to a length that would con- 
 sume the profits. To set his mind at rest, the last 
 chapter was actually written, printed and paged, sev- 
 eral weeks before the chapters which precede it were 
 even thought of. This circumstance, while it cannot 
 excuse, may serve to explain the manner in which the 
 actors are hurried off the scene. 
 
 A great change has come over the country since 
 this book was originally written. The nation is passing 
 from the gristle into the bone, and the common mind 
 is beginning to keep even pace with the growth of the 
 body politic. The march from Yera Cruz to Mexico 
 was made under the orders of that gallant soldier who, 
 a quarter of a century before, was mentioned with 
 honor, in the last chapter of this very book. Glorious 
 as was that march, and brilliant as were its results in 
 
xii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 a military point of view, a stride was then made by 
 the nation, in a moral sense, that has hastened it by an 
 age, in its progress toward real independence and high 
 political influence. The guns that filled the valley 
 of the Aztecs with their thunder, have been heard in 
 echoes on the other side of the Atlantic, producing 
 equally hope or apprehension. 
 
 There is now no enemy to fear, but the one that re- 
 sides within. By accustoming ourselves to regard even 
 the people as erring beings, and by using the restraints 
 that wfisdom has adduced from experience, there is 
 much reason to hope that the same Providence which 
 has so well aided us in our infancy, may continue to 
 smile on our manhood. 
 
 Cooperstown, March 29 , ] 849 . 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 And though amidst the calm of thought entire, 
 
 Some high and haughty features might betray 
 A soul impetuous once — 'twas earthly fire 
 That fled composure’s intellectual ray, 
 
 As Etna’s fires grow dim before the rising day. 
 
 Gertrude of Wyoming. 
 
 [t was near the close of the year 1780, that a solitary traveller 
 was seen pursuing his way through one of the numerous little val- 
 le} T s of West-Chester.* The easterly wind, with its chilling damp- 
 ness and increasing violence, gave unerring notice of the approach 
 of a storm, which as usual might be expected to continue for several 
 days : and the experienced eye of the traveller was turned in vain, 
 through the darkness of the evening, in quest of some convenient 
 shelter, in which, for the term of his confinement by the rain that 
 already began to mix with the atmosphere in a thick mist, he might 
 obtain such accommodations as his purposes required. Nothing 
 however offered but the small and inconvenient tenements of the 
 lower order of the inhabitants, with whom, in that immediate neigh- 
 bourhood, he did not think it either safe or politic to trust himself. 
 
 * As each state of the American Union has its own counties, it often hap- 
 pens that there are several which bear the same name. The scene of this 
 tale is in New York, whose county of West-Chester is the nearest adjoining 
 to the city. 
 
12 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 The county of West-Chester, after the British had obtained pos- 
 session of the island of New York,* became common ground, in 
 which both parties continued to act for the remainder of the war of 
 the revolution. A large proportion of its inhabitants, either 
 restrained by their attachments, or influenced by their fears, affected 
 a neutrality they did not feel. The lower towns were, of course, 
 more particularly under the dominion of the crown, while the upper, 
 finding a security from the vicinity of the continental troops, were 
 bold in asserting their revolutionary opinions, and their right to 
 govern themselves. Great numbers, however, wore masks, which 
 even to this day have not been thrown aside ; and many an indivi- 
 dual has gone down to the tomb, stigmatised as a foe to the rights 
 of his countrymen, while, in secret, he has been the useful agent 
 of the leaders of the revolution ; and, on the other hand, could the 
 hidden repositories of divers flaming patriots have been opened to 
 the light of day, royal protections would have been discovered con- 
 cealed under piles of British gold. 
 
 At the sound of the tread of the noble horse ridden by the tra- 
 veller, the mistress of the farm-house he was passing at the time 
 might be seen cautiously opening the door of the building to 
 examine the stranger; and perhaps, with an averted face, communi- 
 cating the result of her observations to her husband, who, in the 
 rear of the building, was prepared to seek, if necessary, his ordinary 
 place of concealment in the adjacent woods. The valley was situ- 
 ated about mid-way in the length of the county, and was sufficiently 
 
 * The city of New York is situate on an island called Manhattan ; but it 
 is, at one point, separated from the county of West- Chester by a creek of only 
 a few feet in width. The bridge at this spot is called King’s Bridge. It 
 was the scene of many skirmishes during the war, and is alluded to in this, 
 tale. Every Manhattanese knows the difference between ‘"Manhattan 
 Island” and “ the island of Manhattan.” The first is applied to a small dis- 
 trict in the vicinity of Corlaer’s Hook, while the last embraces the whole 
 island; or the city and county of New York, as it is termed in the laws. 
 
T HE S P v . 
 
 13 
 
 near to both armies to make the restitution of stolen goods no un- 
 common occurrence in that vicinity. It is true, the same articles 
 were not always regained ; but a summary substitute was generally 
 resorted to, in the absence of legal justice, which restored to the 
 loser the amount of his loss, and frequently with no inconsiderable 
 addition for the temporary use of his property. In short, the law 
 was momentarily extinct in that particular district, and justice was 
 administered subject to the bias of personal interests, and the pas- 
 sions of the strongest. 
 
 The passage of a stranger, with an appearance of somewhat 
 doubtful character, and mounted on an animal which, although 
 unfurnished with any of the ordinary trappings of war, partook 
 largely of the bold and upright carriage that distinguished his rider, 
 gave rise to many surmises among the gazing inmates of the different 
 habitations ; and in some instances, where conscience was more than 
 ordinarily awake, to no little alarm. 
 
 Tired with the exercise of a day of unusual fatigue, and anxious 
 to obtain a speed}^ shelter from the increasing violence of the storm, 
 that now began to change its character to large drops of driving 
 rain, the traveller determined, as a matter of necessity, to make an 
 application for admission to the next dwelling that offered. An 
 opportunity was not long wanting; and, riding through a pair of 
 neglected bars, he knocked loudly at the outer door of a building, 
 of a very humble exterior, without quitting his saddle. A female 
 of middle age, with an outward bearing but little more prepossessin g 
 than that of her dwelling, appeared to answer the summons. The 
 startled woman half closed her door again in affright, as she saw, by 
 the glare of a large wood fire, a mounted man so unexpectedly near 
 its threshold; and an expression of terror mingled with her natural 
 curiosity, as she required his pleasure. 
 
 Although the door was too nearly closed to admit of a minute 
 scrutiny of the accommodations within, enough had been seen to 
 sause the horseman to endeavour, once more, to penetrate the gloom, 
 
14 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 with longing eyes, in search of a more promising roof, before, with 
 an ill-concealed reluctance, he stated his necessities and wishes. His 
 request was listened to with evident unwillingness, and, while yet 
 unfinished, it was eagerly interrupted by the reply- — 
 
 “ I can’t say I like to give lodgings to a stranger in these ticklish 
 times,” said the female in a pert sharp key; “I’m nothing but a for- 
 lorn lone body ; or, what ’s the same thing, there ’s nobody but the 
 old gentleman at home; but a half mile further up the road is a 
 house where you can get entertainment, and that for nothing. I am 
 sure ’t will be much convenienter to them, and more agreeable to 
 me ; because, as I said before, Harvey is away — I wish he ’d take 
 advice, and leave off wandering ; he ’s well to do in the world, by 
 this time ; and he ought to leave off his uncertain courses, and settle 
 himself, handsomely, in life, like other men of his years and pro- 
 perty. But Harvey Birch will have his own way, and die vagabond 
 after all !” 
 
 The horseman did not wait to hear more than the advice to pursue 
 his course up the road ; but he had slowly turned his horse towards 
 the bars, and was gathering the folds of an ample cloak around his 
 manly form, preparatory to facing the storm again, when something 
 in the speech of the female suddenly arrested the movement. 
 
 “ Is this, then, the dwelling of Harvey Birch ?” he enquired, in 
 an involuntary manner, apparently checking himself, as he was about 
 to utter more. 
 
 “ Why, one can hardly say it is his dwelling,” replied the other, 
 drawing a hurried breath, like one eager to answer ; “he is never in 
 it, or so seldom, that I hardly remember his face, when he does 
 think it worth his while to show it to his poor old father and me. 
 But it matters little to me, I ’in sure, if he ever comes back again, 
 or not; — turn in the first gate on your left;- — no, I care but little, 
 for my part, whether Harvey ever shows his face again or not — not 
 I — and she closed the door abruptly on the horseman, who gladly 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 15 
 
 extended his ride a half mile further, to obtain lodgings which pro- 
 mised both more comfort and greater security. 
 
 Sufficient light yet remained to enable the traveller to distinguish 
 the improvements* which had been made in the cultivation, and in 
 the general appearance of the grounds around the building to which 
 he was now approaching. The house was of stone, long, low, and 
 with a small wing at each extremity. A piazza, extending along 
 the front, with neatly turned pillars of wood, together with the good 
 order and preservation of the fences and out-buildings, gave the 
 place an air altogether superior to the common farm-houses of the 
 country. After leading his horse behind an angle of the wall, where 
 it was in some degree protected from the wind and rain, the traveller 
 threw his vallise over his arm, and knocked loudly at the entrance 
 of the building for admission. An aged black soon appeared ; and 
 without seeming to think it necessary, under the circumstances, to 
 consult his superiors — first taking one prying look at the applicant, 
 by the light of the candle in his hand — he acceded to the request 
 for accommodations. The traveller was shown into an extremely 
 neat parlour, where a fire had been lighted to cheer the dulness 
 of an easterly storm, and an October evening. After giving the 
 vallise into the keeping of his civil attendant, and politely repeating 
 his request to the old gentleman, who arose to receive him, and 
 paying his compliments to the three ladies who were seated at work 
 with their needles, the stranger commenced laying aside some of the 
 outer garments which he had worn in his ride. 
 
 On taking an extra handkerchief from his neck, and removing a 
 cloak of blue cloth, with a surtout of the same material, he exhibited 
 to the scrutiny of the observant family party, a tall and extremely 
 graceful person, of apparently fifty years of age. — His countenance 
 
 * Improvements is used by the Americans to express every degree of 
 change in converting land from its state of wilderness to that of cultivation 
 In this meaning of the word, it is an improvement to fell the trees ; and it 
 .s valued precisely by the supposed amount of the cost. 
 
16 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 evinced a settled composure and dignity; his cose was straight, and 
 approaching to Grecian; his eye, of a grey colour, was quiet, 
 thoughtful, and rather melancholy ; the mouth and lower part of his 
 face being expressive of decision and much character. His dress, 
 being suited to the road, was simple and plain, but such as was worn 
 by the higher class of his countrymen ; he wore his own hair, dressed 
 in a manner that gave a military air to his appearance, and which 
 was rather heightened by his erect and conspicuously graceful car- 
 riage. His whole appearance was so impressive and so decidedly 
 that of a gentleman, that as he finished laying aside the garments, 
 the ladies arose from their seats, and, together with the master of 
 the house, they received anew, and returned the complimentary 
 greetings which were again offered. 
 
 The host was by several years the senior of the traveller, and by 
 his manner, dress, and every thing around him, showed he had seen 
 much of life and the best society. The ladies were, a maiden of 
 forty, and two much younger, who did not seem, indeed, to have 
 reached half those years. The bloom of the elder of these ladies 
 had vanished, but her eyes and fine hair gave an extremely agreeable 
 expression to her countenance ; and there was a softness and an affa- 
 bility in her deportment, that added a charm many more juvenile 
 faces do not possess. The sisters, for such the resemblance between 
 the younger females denoted them to be, were in all the pride of 
 youth, and the roses, so eminently the property of the West-Chester 
 fair, glowed on their cheeks, and lighted their deep blue eyes with 
 that lustre which gives so much pleasure to the beholder, and which 
 indicates so much internal innocence and peace. There was much 
 of that feminine delicacy in the appearance of the three, which dis- 
 tinguishes the sex in this country; and, like the gentleman, their 
 demeanour proved them to be women of the higher order of life. 
 
 After handing a glass of excellent Madeira to his guest, Mr. 
 Wharton, for so was the owner of this retired estate called, resumed 
 ais seat by the fire, with another in his own hand. For a moment 
 
T IIE SPY. 
 
 17 
 
 he paused, as if debating with his politeness, but at length threw an 
 enquiring glance on the stranger, as he enquired — 
 
 “ To whose health am I to have the honour of drinking ?” 
 
 The traveller had also seated himself, and he sat unconsciously 
 gazing on the fire, while Mr. Wharton spoke ; turning his eyes 
 slowly on his host with a look of close observation, he replied, while 
 a faint tinge gathered on his features — 
 
 “ Mr. Harper.” 
 
 u Mr. Harper,” resumed the other, with the formal precision of 
 that day, u I have the honour to drink your health, and to hope you 
 will sustain no injury from the rain to which you have been 
 exposed.” 
 
 Mr. Harper bowed in silence to the compliment, and he soon 
 resumed the meditations from which he had been interrupted, and 
 for which the long ride he had that day made, in the wind, might 
 seem a very natural apology. 
 
 The young ladies had again taken their seats beside the work- 
 stand, while their aunt, Miss Jeanette Peyton, withdrew, to super- 
 intend the preparations necessary to appease the hunger of their 
 unexpected visiter. A short silence prevailed, during which Mr. 
 Harper was apparently enjoying the change in his situation, when 
 Mr. Wharton again broke it, by enquiring whether smoke was disa- 
 greeable to his companion; to which, receiving an answer in the 
 negative, he immediately resumed the pipe which had been laid 
 aside at the entrance of the traveller. 
 
 There was an evident desire on the part of the host to enter into 
 conversation, but either from an apprehension of treading on dan- 
 gerous ground, or an unwillingness to intrude upon the rather studied 
 taciturnity of his guest, he several times hesitated, before he could 
 venture to make any further remark. At length, a movement from 
 Mr. Harper, as he raised his eyes to the party in the room, encou- 
 raged him to proceed. 
 
 “ I find it very difficult,” said Mr. Wharton, cautiously avoiding, 
 
18 
 
 THE S P Y . 
 
 at first, such subjects as he wished to introduce, “ to procure that 
 quality of tobacco for my evenings’ amusement, to which I have 
 been accustomed.” 
 
 “ I should think the shops in New York might furnish the best 
 in the country,” calmly rejoined the other. 
 
 “ Why — yes,” returned the host, in rather a hesitating manner, 
 lifting his eyes to the face of Harper, and lowering them quickly 
 under his steady look, “ there must be plenty in town ; but the war 
 has made communication with the city, however innocent, too dan- 
 gerous to be risked for so trifling an article as tobacco.” 
 
 The box from which Mr. Wharton had just taken a supply for 
 his pipe was lying open, within a few inches of the elbow of Harper, 
 who took a small quantity from its contents, and applied it to his 
 tongue, in a manner perfectly natural, but one that filled his compa- 
 nion with alarm. Without, however, observing that the quality 
 was of the most approved kind, the traveller relieved his host by 
 relapsing again into his meditations. Mr. Wharton now felt unwil- 
 ling to lose the advantage he had gained, and, making an effort of 
 more than usual vigour, he continued — 
 
 “ I wish, from the bottom of my heart, this unnatural struggle 
 was over, that we might again meet our friends and relatives in 
 peace and love.” 
 
 “It is much to be desired,” said Harper, emphatically, again 
 raising his eyes to the countenance of his host. 
 
 “ I hear of no movement of consequence, since the arrival of our 
 new allies,” said Mr. Wharton, shaking the ashes from his pipe, 
 and turning his back to the other, under the pretence of receiving * 
 coal from his youngest daughter. 
 
 “None have yet reached the public, I believe.” 
 
 “ Is it thought any important steps are about to be taken ?” con- 
 tinued Mr. Wharton, still occupied with his daughter, yet uncon- 
 sciously suspending his employment, in expectation of a reply. 
 
 “ Is it intimated any are in agitation ?” 
 
T HE S P Y . 
 
 19 
 
 u Oh ! nothiDg in particular ; but it is natural to expect some 
 new enterprise from so powerful a force as that under Bochambeau.” 
 
 Harper made an assenting inclination with his head, but no other 
 reply, to this remark ; while Mr. Wharton, after lighting his pipe, 
 resumed the subject. 
 
 “ They appear more active in the south ; Gates and Cornwallis 
 seem willing to bring the war to an issue, there.” 
 
 The brow of Harper contracted, and a deeper shade of melan- 
 choly crossed his features ; his eye kindled with a transient beam 
 of fire, that spoke a latent source of deep feeling. The admiring 
 gaze of the younger of the sisters had barely time to read its expres- 
 sion, before it passed away, leaving in its room the acquired compo- 
 sure which marked the countenance of the stranger, and that im- 
 pressive dignity which so conspicuously denotes the empire of 
 reason. 
 
 The elder sister made one or two movements in her chair, before 
 she ventured to say, in a tone which partook in no small measure 
 of triumph — 
 
 u General Gates has been less fortunate with the Earl, than with 
 General Burgoyne.” 
 
 “ But General Gates is an Englishman, Sarah,” cried the younger 
 lady, with quickness; then, colouring to the eyes at her own bold- 
 ness, she employed herself in tumbling over the contents of her 
 work-basket, silently hoping the remark would be unnoticed. 
 
 The traveller had turned his face from one sister to the other, as 
 Ihey had spoken in succession, and an almost imperceptible move- 
 ment of the muscles of his mouth betrayed a new emotion, as he 
 playfully enquired of the younger — 
 
 “ May I venture to ask, what inference you would draw from that 
 fact?” 
 
 Frances blushed yet deeper at this direct appeal to her opinions 
 upon a subject on which she had incautiously spoken in the pre- 
 sence of a stranger; but, finding an answer necessary, after some 
 
20 
 
 THE SPY* 
 
 little hesitation, and with a good deal of stammering in her manner, 
 she replied — 
 
 u Only — only — sir — my sister and myself sometimes differ in our 
 opinions of the prowess of the British.” A smile of much meaning 
 played on a face of infantile innocency, as she concluded. 
 
 “ On what particular points of their prowess do you differ ?” con- 
 tinued Harper, meeting her look of animation with a smile of almost 
 paternal softness. 
 
 “ Sarah thinks the British are never beaten, while I do not put 
 so much faith in their invincibility.” 
 
 The traveller listened to her with that pleased indulgence, with 
 which virtuous age loves to contemplate the ardour of youthful in- 
 nocence ; but making no reply, he turned to the fire, and continued 
 for some time gazing on its embers, in silence. 
 
 Mr. Wharton had in vain endeavoured to pierce the disguise of 
 his guest’s political feelings; but, while there was nothing forbid- 
 ding in his countenance, there was nothing communicative ; on the 
 contrary, it was strikingly reserved ; and the master of the house 
 arose, in profound ignorance of what, in those days, was the most 
 material point in the character of his guest, to lead the way into 
 another room, and to the supper table. Mr. Harper offered his 
 hand to Sarah Wharton, and they entered the room together; while 
 Frances followed, greatly at a loss to know, whether she had not 
 wounded the feelings of her father’s inmate. 
 
 The storm began to rage with great violence without; and the 
 dashing rain on the sides of the building awakened that silent sense 
 of enjoyment, which is excited by such sounds in a room of quiet 
 comfort and warmth, when a loud summons at the outer door again 
 called the faithful black to the portal. In a minute the servant 
 returned, and informed his master that another traveller, overtaken 
 by the storm, desired to be admitted to the house for a shelter 
 through the night. 
 
 At the first sounds of the impatient summons of this new appli- 
 
THE SPY, 
 
 21 
 
 cant, Mr. Wharton had risen from his seat in evident uneasiness; 
 and, with eyes glancing with quickness from his guest to the dooi 
 of the room, he seemed to be expecting something to proceed from 
 this second interruption, connected with the stranger who had occa- 
 sioned the first. He scarcely had time to bid the black, with a faint 
 voice, to show this second comer in, before the door was thrown 
 hastily open, and the stranger himself entered the apartment. He 
 paused a moment, as the person of Harper met his view, and then, 
 in a more formal manner, repeated the request he had before made 
 through the servant. Mr. Wharton and his family disliked the ap- 
 pearance of this new visitor excessively ; but the inclemency of the 
 weather, and the uncertainty of the consequences, if he were refused 
 the desired lodgings, compelled the old gentleman to give a reluctant 
 acquiescence. 
 
 Some of the dishes were replaced by the orders of Miss Peyton, 
 and the weather-beaten intruder was invited to partake of the re- 
 mains of the repast, from which the party had just risen. Throwing 
 aside a rough great-coat, he very composedly took the offered chair, 
 and unceremoniously proceeded to allay the cravings of an appetite, 
 which appeared by no means delicate. But at every mouthful he 
 would turn an unquiet eye on Harper, who studied his appearance 
 with a closeness of investigation, that was very embarrassing to its 
 subject. At length, pouring out a glass of wine, the new comer 
 nodded significantly to his examiner, previously to swallowing the 
 liquor, and said, with something of bitterness in his manner — 
 
 “I drink to our better acquaintance, sir; I believe this is the 
 first time we have met, though your attention would seem to say 
 otherwise.” 
 
 The quality of the wine seemed greatly to his fancy, for, on re- 
 placing the glass upon the table, he gave his lips a smack, that 
 resounded through the room ; and, taking up the bottle, he held it 
 between himself and the light, for a moment, in silent contemplation 
 of its clear and brilliant colour. 
 
22 
 
 THE S P Y . 
 
 “ I think we have never met before, sir,” replied Harper, with a 
 slight smile on his features, as he observed the movements of the 
 other ; but appearing satisfied with his scrutiny, he turned to Sarah 
 Wharton, who sat next him, and carelessly remarked — 
 
 “You, doubtless, find your present abode solitary^ after being 
 accustomed to the gay e ties of the city.” 
 
 “ Oh ! excessively so,” said Sarah, hastily. “ I do wish, with 
 my father, that this cruel war was at an end, that we might return 
 to our friends once more.” 
 
 “ And you, Miss Frances, do you long as ardently for peace as 
 your sister?” 
 
 “On many accounts I certainly do,” returned the other, ven- 
 turing to steal a timid glance at her interrogator ; and, meeting the 
 same benevolent expression of feeling as before, she continued, as 
 her own face lighted into one of its animated and bright smiles of 
 intelligence, “but not at the expense of the rights of my coun- 
 trymen.” 
 
 “Eights!” repeated her sister, impatiently; “whose rights can 
 be stronger than those of a sovereign; and what duty is clearer, 
 than to obey those who have a natural right to command ?” 
 
 “None, certainly,” said Frances, laughing with great pleasantry; 
 and, taking the hand of her sister affectionately within both of her 
 own, she added, with a smile directed towards Harper — 
 
 “ I gave you to understand, that my sister and myself differed in 
 our political opinions; but we have an impartial umpire in my 
 father, who loves his own countrymen, and he loves the British, — 
 so he takes sides with neither.” 
 
 “ Yes,” said Mr. Wharton, in a little alarm, eyeing first one 
 guest, and then the other; “I have near friends in both armies, 
 and I dread a victory by either, as a source of certain private mis- 
 fortune.” 
 
 “ T take it, you have little reason to apprehend much from the 
 
T HE SPY. 
 
 23 
 
 Yankees, in that way;” interrupted the guest at the table, coolly 
 helping himself to another glass, from the bottle he had admired. 
 
 “ His Majesty may have more experienced troops than the con- 
 tinentals,” answered the host fearfully, “but the Americans have 
 met with distinguished success.” 
 
 Harper disregarded the observations of both; and, rising, he 
 desired to be shown to his place of rest. A small boy was directed 
 to guide him to his room ; and wishing a courteous good-night to 
 the whole party, the traveller withdrew. The knife and fork fell 
 from the hands of the unwelcome intruder, as the door closed on 
 the retiring figure of Harper ; — he arose slowly from his seat ; — 
 listening attentively, he approached the door of the room — opened 
 it — seemed to attend to the retreating footsteps of the other — 
 and, amidst the panic and astonishment of his companions, he closed 
 it again. In an instant, the red wig which concealed his black 
 locks, the large patch, which hid half his face from observation, the 
 stoop, that had made him appear fifty years of age, disappeared. 
 
 “ My father ! — my dear father !” — cried the handsome young 
 man; “and you, my dearest sisters and aunt! — have I at last 
 met you, again?” 
 
 “ Heaven bless you, my Henry, my son !” exclaimed the aston- 
 ished, but delighted parent; while his sisters sunk on his shoulders, 
 dissolved in tears. 
 
 The faithful old black, who had been reared from infancy in the 
 house of his master, and who, as if in mockery of his degraded 
 state, had been complimented with the name of Caesar, was the 
 only other witness of this unexpected discovery of the son of Mr. 
 Wharton. After receiving the extended hand of his young master, 
 and imprinting on it a fervent kiss, Caesar withdrew. The boy did 
 not re-enter the room; and the black himself, after some time, 
 returned, just as the young British captain was exclaiming — 
 
 “ But who is this Mr. Harper ? — is he likely to betray me ?” 
 “No — no — no — Massa Harry,” cried the negro, shaking his 
 
24 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 grey head confidently; “I been to see — Massa Harper on he 
 knee - — pray to God — no gemman who pray to God, tell of good 
 son, come to see old fader — Skinner do that — no Christian 
 
 This poor opinion of the Skinners was not confined to Mr. Caesar 
 Thompson, as he called himself — but Caesar Wharton, as he was 
 styled by the little world to which he was known. The con- 
 venience, and perhaps the necessities, of the leaders of the American 
 arms, in the neighbourhood of New York, had induced them to 
 employ certain subordinate agents, of extremely irregular habits, in 
 executing their lesser plans of annoying the enemy. It was not a 
 moment for fastidious inquiries into abuses of any description, and 
 oppression and injustice were the natural consequences of the pos- 
 session of a military power that was uncurbed by the restraints of 
 civil authority. In time, a distinct order of the community was 
 formed, whose sole occupation appears to have been that of relieving 
 their fellow-citizens from any little excess of temporal prosperity 
 they might be thought to enjoy, under the pretence of patriotism, 
 and the love of liberty. 
 
 Occasionally, the aid of military authority was not wanting, in 
 enforcing these arbitrary distributions of worldly goods; and a 
 petty holder of a commission in the state militia was to be seen giv- 
 ing the sanction of something like legality to acts of the most unli- 
 censed robbery, and, not unfrequently, of bloodshed. 
 
 On the part of the British, the stimulus of loyalty was by no 
 means suffered to sleep, where so fruitful a field offered, on which it 
 might be expended. But their freebooters were enrolled, and their 
 efforts more systematised. Long experience had taught their leaders 
 the efficacy of concentrated force ; and, unless tradition does great 
 injustice to their exploits, the result did no little credit to their fore- 
 sight. The corps — we presume, from their known affection to that 
 useful animal — had received the quaint appellation of 6 Cow-Boys. ; 
 
 Csesar was, however, far too loyal to associate men, who held the 
 commission of George III., with the irregular warriors, whose ex- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 cesses he had so often witnessed, and from whose rapacity, neither 
 his poverty nor his bondage had suffered even him to escape unin- 
 jured. The Cow-Boys, therefore, did not receive their proper por- 
 tion of the black’s censure, when he said, no Christian, nothing but 
 a “ Skinner,” could betray a pious child, while Honouring his father 
 with a visit so full of peril 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 And many a halcyon day he liv’d to see 
 Unbroken, but by one misfortune dire, 
 
 When fate had reft his mutual heart— but she 
 
 Was gone — and Gertrude climb’d a widow’d father’s knee. 
 
 Gertrude of Wyoming. 
 
 The father of Mr. Wharton was a native of England, and of 2 
 family whose parliamentary interest had enabled them to provide foi 
 a younger son in the colony of New York. The young man, like 
 hundreds of others in his situation, had settled permanently in the 
 country. He married ; and the sole issue of his connexion had 
 been sent early in life to receive the benefits of the English schools. 
 After taking his degrees at one of the universities of the mother 
 country, the youth had been suffered to acquire a knowledge of life 
 with the advantages of European society. But the death of his 
 father recalled him, after passing two years in this manner, to the 
 possession of an honourable name, and a very ample estate. 
 
 It was much the fashion of that day to place the youth of certain 
 families in the army or navy of England, as the regular stepping- 
 stones to preferment. Most of the higher offices in the colonies were 
 filled by men who had made arms their profession ; and it was even 
 no uncommon sight to see a veteran warrior laying aside the sword 
 to assume the ermine on the benches of the highest judicial 
 authority. 
 
 In conformity with this system, the senior Mr. Wharton haa 
 intended his son for a soldier ; but a natural imbecility of character 
 in his child interfered with his wishes. 
 
T HE STY. 
 
 27 
 
 A twelvemonth had been spent by the young man in weighing the 
 comparative advantages of the different classes of troops, when the 
 death of his father occurred. The ease of his situation, and the 
 attentions lavished upon a youth in the actual enjoyment of one of 
 the largest estates in the colonies, interfered greatly with his ambi- 
 tious projects. Love decided the matter; and Mr. Wharton, in 
 becoming a husband, ceased to think of becoming a soldier. For 
 many years he continued happy in his family, and sufficiently re- 
 spected by his countrymen, as a man of integrity and consequence, 
 when all his enjoyments vanished, as it were, at a blow. His only 
 son, the youth introduced in the preceding chapter, had entered the 
 army, and had arrived in his native country, but a short time before 
 the commencement of hostilities, with the reinforcements the min- 
 istry had thought it prudent to throw into the disaffected parts of 
 North America. His daughters were just growing into life, and 
 their education required all the advantages the city could afford. 
 His wife had been for some years in declining health, and had barely 
 time to fold her son to her bosom, and rejoice in the re-union of her 
 family, before the revolution burst forth, in a continued blaze, from 
 Georgia to Massachusetts. The shock was too much for the feeble 
 condition of the mother, who saw her child called to the field to 
 combat against the members of her own family in the South, and 
 she sunk under the blow. 
 
 There was no part of the continent where the manners of Eng- 
 land, and its aristocratical notions of blood and alliances, prevailed 
 with more force, than in a certain circle immediately around the me- 
 tropolis of New York. The customs of the early Dutch inhabitants 
 had, indeed, blended in some measure with the English manners; 
 but still the latter prevailed. This attachment to Great Britain was 
 increased by the frequent intermarriages of the officers of the mother- 
 country with the wealthier and more powerful families of the vicinity, 
 until, at the commencement of hostilities, their united influence had 
 very nearly thrown the colony into the scale on the side of the crown 
 
28 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 A few, however, of the leading families espoused the cause of the 
 people ; and a sufficient stand was made against the efforts of the 
 ministerial party, to organise, and, aided by the army of the con- 
 federation, to maintain, an independent and republican form of gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 The city of New-York and the adjacent territory were alone ex- 
 empted from the rule of the new commonwealth ; while the royal 
 authority extended no further than its dignity could be supported by 
 the presence of an army. In this condition of things, the loyalists 
 of influence adopted such measures as best accorded with their dif- 
 ferent characters and situations. Many bore arms in support of the 
 crown, and, by their bravery and exertions, endeavoured to secure 
 what they deemed to be the rights of their prince, and their own 
 estates, from the effects of the law of attainder. Others left the 
 country ; seeking in that place they emphatically called home, an 
 asylum, as they fondly hoped, for a season only, against the confu- 
 sion and dangers of war. A third, and a more wary portion, re- 
 mained in the place of their nativity, with a prudent regard to their 
 ample possessions, and, perhaps, influenced by their attachments to 
 the scenes of their youth. Mr. Wharton was of this description. 
 After making a provision against future contingencies, by secretly 
 transmitting the whole of Ills money to the British funds, this gen- 
 tleman determined to continue in the theatre of strife, and to main- 
 tain so strict a neutrality, as to ensure the safety of his large estate, 
 whichever party succeeded. He was apparently engrossed in the 
 education of his daughters, when a relation, high in office in the new 
 state, intimated, that a residence in what was now a British camp 
 differed but little, in the eyes of his countrymen, from a residence in 
 the British capital. Mr. Wharton soon saw this was an unpardon- 
 able offence in the existing state of things, and he instantly deter- 
 mined to remove the difficulty, by retiring to the country. He pos- 
 sessed a residence in the county of West-Chester ; and having been 
 for many years in the habit of withdrawing thither during the heat? 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 29 
 
 of the summer months, it was kept furnished, and ready for his 
 accommodation. His eldest daughter was already admitted into the 
 society of women ; but Frances, the younger, required a year or two 
 more of the usual cultivation, to appear with proper eclat : at least 
 so thought Miss Jeanette Peyton ; and as this lady, a younger sister 
 of their deceased mother, had left her paternal home, in the colony 
 of Virginia, with the devotedness and affection peculiar to her sex, 
 to superintend the welfare of her orphan nieces, Mr. Wharton felt 
 that her opinions were entitled to respect. In conformity to her 
 advice, therefore, the feelings of the parent were made to yield to 
 the welfare of his children. 
 
 Mr. Wharton withdrew to the u Locusts,” with a heart rent with 
 the pain of separating from all that was left him of a wife he had 
 adored, but in obedience to a constitutional prudence that pleaded 
 loudly in behalf of his worldly goods. His handsome town resi- 
 dence was inhabited, in the mean while, by his daughters and their 
 aunt. The regiment to which Captain Wharton belonged formed 
 part of the permanent garrison of the city ; and the knowledge of 
 the presence of his son was no little relief to the father, in his un- 
 ceasing meditations on his absent daughters. But Captain Wharton 
 was a young man and a soldier ; his estimate of character was not 
 always the wisest; and his propensities led him to imagine that a 
 red coat never concealed a dishonourable heart. 
 
 The house of Mr. Wharton became a fashionable lounge to the 
 officers of the royal army, as did that of every other family that was 
 thought worthy of their notice. The consequences of this associa- 
 tion were, to some few of the visited, fortunate ; to more, injurious, 
 by exciting expectations which were never to be realized, and, 
 unhappily, to no small number ruinous. The known wealth of the 
 father, and, possibly, the presence of a high-spirited brother, forbade 
 any apprehension of the latter danger to the young ladies : but it 
 was impossible that all the admiration bestowed on the fine figure 
 and lovely face of Sarah Wharton should be thrown rway. Her 
 
30 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 person was formed with the early maturity of the climate, and a 
 strict cultivation of the graces had made her, decidedly, the belle 
 of the city. No one promised to dispute with her this female 
 sovereignty, unless it might be her younger sister. Frances, how- 
 ever, wanted some months to the charmed age of sixteen ; and the 
 idea of competition was far from the minds of either of the affec- 
 tionate girls. Indeed, next to the conversation of Colonel Wellmere, 
 the greatest pleasure of Sarah was in contemplating the budding 
 beauties of the little Hebe, who played around her with all the 
 **cency of youth, with all the enthusiasm of her ardent temper, 
 with no little of the archness of her native humour. Whether 
 or not it was owing to the fact that Frances received none of the 
 compliments which fell to the lot of her elder sister, in the often 
 repeated discussions on the merits of the war, between the military 
 beaus who frequented the house, it is certain their effects on the 
 sisters were exactly opposite. It was much the fashion then for the 
 British officers to speak slightingly of their enemies; and Sarah 
 took all the idle vapouring of her danglers to be truths. The first 
 political opinions which reached the ears of Frances were coupled 
 with sneers on the conduct of her countrymen. At first she 
 believed them; but there was occasionally a general, who was 
 obliged to do justice to his enemy in order to obtain justice for 
 himself; and Frances became somewhat skeptical on the subject 
 of the inefficiency of her countrymen. Colonel Wellmere was 
 among those who delighted most in expending his wit on the unfor- 
 tunate Americans; and, in time, Frances began to listen to his 
 eloquence with great suspicion, and sometimes with resentment. 
 
 It was on a hot sultry day, that the three were in the parlour of 
 Mr. Wharton’s house, the Colonel and Sarah seated on a sofa, 
 engaged in a combat of the eyes, aided by the usual flow of small 
 talk, and Frances was occupied at her tambouring frame, in 
 an opposite corner of the room, when the gentleman suddenly 
 exclaimed — 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 31 
 
 “ Row gay the arrival of the army under General Burgoyne will 
 make the city, Miss Wharton !” 
 
 “ Oh ! how pleasant it must be,” said the thoughtless Sarah, in 
 reply; “I am told there are many charming women with that 
 army ; as you say, it will make us all life and gayety.” 
 
 Frances shook back the abundance of her golden hair, and raised 
 her eyes, dancing with the ardour of national feeling ; then laugh- 
 ing, with a concealed humour, she asked — 
 
 “Is it so certain, that General Burgoyne will be permitted to 
 reach the city?” 
 
 “ Permitted !” echoed the Colonel : “ who is there to prevent it, 
 my pretty Miss Fanny?” 
 
 Frances was precisely at that age, when young people are most 
 jealous of their station in society; neither quite a woman, nor yet 
 .a child. The “pretty Miss Fanny” was too familiar to be relished, 
 and she dropped her eyes on her work again, with cheeks that 
 glowed like crimson. 
 
 “ General Stark took the Germans into custody,” she answered, 
 compressing her lip ; — “ may not General Gates think the British 
 too dangerous to go at large ?” 
 
 “ Oh ! they were Germans, as you say,” cried the Colonel, exces- 
 sively vexed at the necessity of explaining at all ; “ mere mercenary 
 troops ; but when the really British regiments come in question, you 
 will see a very different result.” 
 
 “ Of that there is no doubt,” cried Sarah, without in the least 
 partaking of the resentment of the Colonel to her sister, but hailing 
 already in her heart, the triumph of the British. 
 
 “Pray, Colonel Wellinere,” said Frances, recovering her good 
 humour, and raising her joyous eyes once more to the face of the 
 gentleman, “ was the Lord Percy of Lexington, a kinsman of him 
 who fought at Chevy Chase ?” 
 
 “ Why, Miss Fanny, you are becoming a rebel,” said the Colonel, 
 endeavouring to laugh away the anger he felt; “ what you are pleased 
 
32 
 
 THE S V Y . 
 
 to insinuate was a chase at Lexington, was nothing more than a judi 
 cious retreat — a — kind of — ” 
 
 “ Running fight,” interrupted the good-humoured girl, laying 
 great emphasis on the first word. 
 
 “ Positively, young lady — ” Colonel Wellmere was interrupted by 
 a laugh from a person who had hitherto been unnoticed. 
 
 There was a small family apartment, adjoining the room occupied 
 by the trio, and the air had blown open the door communicating 
 between the two. A fine young man was now seen sitting near the 
 entrance, who, by his smiling countenance, was evidently a pleased 
 listener to the conversation. He rose instantly, and coming through 
 the door, with his hat in his hand, appeared a tall graceful youth, 
 of dark complexion, and sparkling eyes of black, from which the 
 mirth had not yet entirely vanished, as he made his bow to the ladies. 
 
 u Mr. Dunwoodie !” cried Sarah, in surprise ; u I was ignorant of 
 your being in the house ; you will find a cooler seat in this room.” 
 
 “ I thank you,” replied the young man, “ but I must go and seek 
 your brother, who placed me there in ambuscade, as he called it, 
 with a promise of returning an hour ago.” Without making any fur- 
 ther explanation, the youth bowed politely to the young women, 
 distantly and with hauteur to the gentleman, and withdrew. Frances 
 followed him into the hall, and blushing richly, enquired, in a hur- 
 ried voice — 
 
 “ But why — why do you leave us, Mr. Dunwoodie ? — Henry must 
 soon return.” 
 
 The gentleman caught one of her hands in his own, and the sterr 
 expression of his countenance gave place to a look of admiration, * 
 he replied — 
 
 “ You managed him famously, my dear little kinswoman ; never— 
 no never, forget the land of your birth ; remember, if you are the 
 grand-daughter of an Englishman, you are, also, the grand-daughter 
 of a Peyton.” 
 
 “ Oh !” returned the laughing girl, u it would be difficult to forget 
 
THE SI Y . 
 
 33 
 
 that, with the constant lectures on genealogy before us, with which 
 we are favoured by aunt Jeanette — but why do you go ?” 
 
 “ I am on the wing for Virginia, and have much to do.” He 
 pressed her hand as he spoke, and looking back, while in the act of 
 closing the door, exclaimed, “ Be true to your country — be Ameri- 
 can.” The ardent girl kissed her hand to him as he retired, and 
 then instantly applying it with its beautiful fellow to her burning 
 cheeks, ran into her own apartment to hide her confusion. 
 
 Between the open sarcasm of Frances, and the ill-concealed dis- 
 dain of the young man, Colonel Wellmere had felt himself placed 
 in an awkward predicament ; but ashamed to resent such trifles in 
 the presence of his mistress, he satisfied himself with observing, 
 superciliously, as Dunwoodie left the room — 
 
 “ Quite a liberty for a youth in his situation ; a shop-boy with a 
 bundle, I fancy.” 
 
 The idea of picturing the graceful Peyton Dunwoodie as a shop- 
 boy could never enter the mind of Sarah, and she looked around 
 her in surprise, when the Colonel continued — 
 
 “ This Mr. Dun— Dun— ” 
 
 “ Dunwoodie ! Oh no — he is a relation of my aunt,” cried the 
 young lady, “ and an intimate friend of my brother ; they were at 
 school together, and only separated in England, when one went 
 into the army, and the other to a French military academy.” 
 
 “ His money appears to have been thrown away,” observed the 
 Colonel, betraying the spleen he was unsuccessfully striving to 
 conceal. 
 
 “We ought to hope so,” added Sarah, with a smile; “for it is 
 said he intends joining the rebel army. He was brought in here, 
 in a French ship, and has just been exchanged ; you may soon 
 meet him in arms.” 
 
 “ Well, let him — I wish Washington plenty of such heroes ;” and 
 he turned to a more pleasant subject, by changing the discourse to 
 themselves. 
 
 2 * 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 Cf 
 
 A few weeks ffter this scene occurred, the army of Burgoyne 
 laid down their arms. Mr. Wharton, beginning to think the result 
 of the contest doubtful, resolved to conciliate his countrymen, and 
 gratify himself, by calling his daughters into his own abode. Miss 
 Peyton consented to be their companion ; and from that time, until 
 the period at which we commenced our narrative, they had formed 
 one family. 
 
 Whenever the main army made any movements, Captain Whar- 
 ton had, of course, accompanied it ; and once or twice, under the 
 protectioi of strong parties, acting in the neighbourhood of the 
 Locusts, he had enjoyed rapid and stolen interviews with his friends. 
 A twelvemonth had, however, passed without his seeing them ; 
 and the impatient Henry had adopted the disguise we have men- 
 tioned, and unfortunately arrived on the very evening that an 
 unknown and rather suspicious guest was an inmate of the house, 
 which seldom contained any other than its regular inhabitants. 
 
 “ But, do you think he suspects me ?” asked the captain, with 
 anxiety, after pausing to listen to Caesar’s opinion of the Skinners. 
 
 “ How should he ?” cried Sarah, “ when your sisters and father 
 could not penetrate your disguise.” 
 
 “ There is something mysterious in his manner ; his looks are 
 too prying for an indifferent observer,” continued young Wharton 
 thoughtfully, “ and his face seems familiar to me. The recent fate 
 of Andre has created much irritation on both sides. Sir Henry 
 threatens retaliation for his death ; and Washington is as firm as if 
 half the world were at his command. The rebels would think me 
 a fit subject for their plans just now, should I be so unlucky as to 
 fail into their hands.” 
 
 “ But, my son,” cried his father, in great alarm, “ you are not a 
 spy ; you are not within the rebel — that is, the American lines ; — 
 there is nothing here to spy.” 
 
 “That might be disputed,” rejoined the young man, musing: 
 u their pickets were as low as the White Plains when I passed 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 35 
 
 through in disguise. It is true my purposes are innocent ; but how 
 is it to appear ? My visit to you would seem a cloak to other de- 
 signs. Remember, sir, the treatment you received not a year since, 
 for sending me a supply of fruit for the winter/' 
 
 “ That proceeded from the misrepresentations of my kind neigh- 
 bours/' said Mr. Wharton, “ who hoped, by getting my estate con- 
 fiscated, to purchase good farms, at low prices. Peyton Dunwoodie, 
 however, soon obtained our discharge ; we were detained but a 
 month.” 
 
 “We!” repeated the son, in amazement; “did they take my 
 sisters, also ? — Fanny, you wrote me nothing of this.” 
 
 “ I believe,” said Frances, colouring highly, “ I mentioned the 
 kind treatment we received from your old friend, Major Dunwoodie ; 
 and that he procured my father's release.” 
 
 “ True; — but were you with him in the rebel camp?” 
 
 “Yes,” said the father, kindly; “Fanny would not suffer me to 
 go alone. Jeanette and Sarah took charge of the Locusts, and this 
 little girl was my companion, in captivity.” 
 
 “ And Fanny returned from such a scene a greater rebel than 
 ever,” cried Sarah, indignantly; “one would think the hardships 
 her father suffered would have cured her of such whims.” 
 
 “What say you to the charge, my pretty sister?” cried the Cap- 
 tain gaily ; — “ did Peyton strive to make you hate your king, more 
 than he does himself?” 
 
 “Peyton Dunwoodie hates no one,” said Frances, quickly; then, 
 blushing at her own ardour, she added immediately, “ he loves you, 
 Henry, I know ; for he has told me so again and again.” 
 
 Young Wharton tapped his sister on the cheek, with a smile, as 
 he asked her, in an affected whisper — “Did he tell you also that he 
 loved my little sister Fanny?” 
 
 “Nonsense,” said Frances; and the remnants of the suppn-table 
 soon disappeared under her superintendence. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ’Twas when the fields were swept of Autumn’s store, 
 
 And growling winds the fading foliage tore, 
 
 Behind the Lowmon hill, the short-lived light. 
 
 Descending slowly, usher’d in the night ; 
 
 When from the noisy town, with mournful look* 
 
 His lonely way the meagre pedler took. 
 
 Wilson 
 
 A storm below tbe highlands of the Hudson, if it be introduced 
 with an easterly wind, seldom lasts less than two days. Accordingly, 
 as the inmates of the Locusts assembled, on the following morning, 
 around their early breakfast, the driving rain was seen to strike in 
 nearly horizontal lines against the windows of the building, and for- 
 bade the idea of exposing either man or beast to the tempest. Har- 
 per was the last to appear : after taking a view of the state of the 
 weather, he apologised to Mr. Wharton for the necessity that existed 
 for his trespassing on his goodness for a longer time. To appear- 
 ances, the reply was as courteous as the excuse ; yet Harper wore 
 a resignation in his deportment that was widely different from the 
 uneasy manner of the father. Henry Wharton had resumed his 
 disguise with a reluctance amounting to disgust, but in obedience to 
 the commands of his parent. No communications passed between 
 him and the stranger, after the first salutations of the morning had 
 been paid by Harper to him, in common with the rest of the family. 
 Frances had, indeed, thought there was something like a smile pass- 
 ing over the features of the traveller, when, on entering the room, 
 he first confronted her brother ; but it was confined to the eyes, 
 
T H 13 SPY. 
 
 37 
 
 seeming to want power to affect the muscles of the face, and was 
 soon lost in the settled and benevolent expression which reigned in 
 his countenance, with a sway but seldom interrupted. The eyes of 
 the affectionate sister were turned in anxiety, for a moment, on her 
 brother, and glancing again on their unknown guest, met his look, 
 as he offered her, with marked attention, one of the little civilities 
 of the table ; and the heart of the girl, which had begun to throb 
 with violence, regained a pulsation as tempered as youth, health, 
 and buoyant spirits could allow. While yet seated at the table, 
 Caesar entered, and, laying a small parcel in silence by the side of 
 his master, modestly retired behind his chair, where, placing one 
 hand 'm its back, he continued in an attitude half familiar, half re- 
 spectful, a listener. 
 
 “What is this, Caesar?” enquired Mr. Wharton, turning the 
 bundle over to examine its envelope, and eyeing it rather suspi- 
 ciously. 
 
 “ The ’baccy, sir ; Harvey Birch, he got home, and he bring you 
 a little good ’baccy from York.” 
 
 “ Harvey Birch !” rejoined the master with great deliberation, 
 stealing a look at his guest. “ I do not remember desiring him to 
 purchase any tobacco for me ; but as he has brought it, he must bo 
 paid for his trouble.” 
 
 For an instant only, as the negro spoke, did Harper suspend his 
 silent meal ; his eye moved slowly from the servant to the master, 
 and again all remained in its impenetrable reserve. 
 
 To Sarah Wharton, this intelligence gave unexpected pleasure; 
 rising from her seat, with impatience, she bade the black show Birch 
 into the apartment ; when, suddenly recollecting herself, she turned 
 to the traveller with an apologising look, and added, “ if Mr. Harper 
 will excuse the presence of a pedler.” 
 
 The indulgent benevolence expressed in the countenance of the 
 stranger, as he bowed a silent acquiescence, spoke more eloquently 
 than the nicest framed period, and the young lady repeated her 
 
38 
 
 THE ST Y. 
 
 order, with a confidence in its truth that removed all embarrass 
 ment. 
 
 In the deep recesses of the windows of the cottage were seats ot 
 panelled work ; and the rich damask curtains, that had ornamented 
 the parlour in Queen Street,* had been transferred to the Locusts, 
 and gave to the room that indescribable air of comfort, which sc 
 gratefully announces the approach of a domestic winter. Into one 
 of these recesses Captain Vfharton now threw himself, drawing the 
 curtain before him in such a manner as to conceal most of his person 
 from observation ; while his younger sister, losing her natural frank- 
 ness of manner, in an air of artificial constraint, silently took pos- 
 session of the other. 
 
 Harvey Birch had been a pedler from his youth ; at least so he 
 frequently asserted, and his skill in the occupation went far to prove 
 the truth of the declaration. He was a native of one of the eastern 
 colonies; and, from something of superior intelligence which be- 
 longed to his father, it was thought they had known'better fortunes 
 in the land of their nativity. Harvey possessed, however, the com- 
 mon manners of the country, and was in no way distinguished from 
 men of his class, but by his acuteness, and the mystery which enve- 
 loped his movements. Ten years before, they had arrived together 
 in the vale, and, purchasing the humble dwelling at which Harper 
 had made his unsuccessful application, continued ever since peaceful 
 inhabitants, but little noticed and but little known. Until age and 
 infirmities had prevented, the father devoted himself to the cultiva- 
 tion of the small spot of ground belonging to his purchase, while the 
 son pursued with avidity his humble barter. Their orderly quietude 
 
 * The Americans changed the names of many towns and streets at the 
 revolution, as has since been done in France. Thus, in the city of New York, 
 Crown Street has become Liberty Street; King Street, Pine Street; and Queen 
 Street, then one of the most fashionable quarters of the town, Pearl Street. 
 Pearl Street is now chiefly occupied by the auction dealers, and the wholesale 
 dry -goods merchants, for ware-houses and counting-rooms. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 39 
 
 had soon given them so much consideration in the neigl ibourhood, 
 as to induce a maiden of five-and-thirty to forget the punctilio of her 
 sex, and to accept the office of presiding over their domestic com- 
 forts. The roses had long before vanished from the cheeks of Katy 
 Haynes, and she had seen in succession, both her male and female 
 acquaintances forming the union so desirable to her sex, with but 
 little or no hope left for herself, when, with views of her own, she 
 entered the family of the Birches. Necessity is a hard master, and, 
 for the want of a better companion, the father and son were induced 
 to accept her services ; but still Katy was not wanting in some qua- 
 lities, which made her a very tolerable housekeeper. On the one 
 hand, she was neat, industrious, honest, and a good manager. On 
 the other, she was talkative, selfish, superstitious, and inquisitive. 
 By dint of using the latter quality with consummate industry, she 
 had not lived in the family five years when she triumphantly de- 
 clared, that she had heard, or rather overheard, sufficient to enable 
 her to say what had been the former fate of her associates. Could 
 Katy have possessed enough of divination to pronounce upon their 
 future lot, her task would have been accomplished. From the pri- 
 vate conversations of the parent and child, she learnt that a fire had 
 reduced them from competence to poverty, and at the same time 
 diminished the number of their family to two. There was a tremu- 
 lousness in the voice of the father, as he touched lightly on the 
 event, which affected even the heart of Katy ; but no barrier is suffi- 
 cient to repel vulgar curiosity. She persevered, until a very direct 
 intimation from Harvey, by threatening to supply her place with a 
 female a few years younger than herself, gave her awful warning 
 that there were bounds beyond which she was not to pass. From 
 that period the curiosity of the housekeeper had been held in such 
 salutary restraint, that, although no .opportunity of listening was ever 
 neglected, she had been able to add but little to her stock of know- 
 ledge. There was, however, one piece of intelligence, and that of no 
 little interest to herself, which she had succeeded in obtaining ; and 
 
4 U 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 from the moment of its acquisition, she directed her energies to the 
 accomplishment of one object, aided by the double stimulus of love 
 and avarice. 
 
 Harvey was in the frequent habit of paying mysterious visits, in 
 the depth of the night, to the fire-place of the apartment, that served 
 for both kitchen and parlour. Here he was observed by Katy ; and, 
 availing herself of his absence, and the occupations of the father, by 
 removing one of the hearth-stones, she discovered an iron pot, glit- 
 tering with a metal that seldom fails to soften the hardest heart. 
 Katy succeeded in replacing the stone without discovery, and never 
 dared to trust herself with another visit. From that moment, how- 
 ever, the heart of the virgin lost its obduracy ; and nothing inter- 
 posed between Harvey and his happiness, but his own want of ob- 
 servation. 
 
 The war did not interfere with the traffic of the pedlar, who seized 
 on the golden opportunity, which the interruption of the regular 
 trade afforded, and appeared absorbed in the one grand object of 
 amassing money. For a year or two, his employment was uninter- 
 rupted, and his success proportionate ; but, at length, dark and threat- 
 ening hints began to throw suspicion around his movements, and the 
 civil authority thought it incumbent on them to examine narrowly 
 into his mode of life. His imprisonments, though frequent, were 
 not long ; and his escapes from the guardians of the law easy, com- 
 pared to what he endured from the persecution of the military. Still 
 Birch survived, and still he continued his trade, though compelled 
 to be very guarded in his movements, especially whenever he ap- 
 proached the northern boundaries of the county ; or, in other words, 
 the neighbourhood of the American lines. His visits to the Locusts 
 had become less frequent, and his appearance at his own abode so 
 seldom, as to draw forth from the disappointed Katy, in the fulness 
 of her heart, the complaint we have related, in her reply to Harper. 
 Nothing, however, seemed to interfere with the pursuits of this indo« 
 fatigable trader ; who, with a view to dispose of certain articles for 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 winch he could only find purchasers in the very wealthiest families 
 of the county, had now braved the fury of the tempest, and ventured 
 to cross the half mile between his own residence and the house of 
 Mr. Wharton. 
 
 In a few minutes after receiving the commands of his young mis- 
 tress, Caesar re-appeared, ushering into the apartment the subject of 
 the foregoing digression. In person, the pedler was a man above 
 the middle height, spare, but full of bone and muscle. At first 
 sight, his strength seemed unequal to manage the unwieldy burden 
 of his pack ; yet he threw it on and off with great dexterity, and 
 with as much apparent ease as if it had been filled with feathers. 
 His eyes were grey, sunken, restless, and, for the flitting moments 
 that they dwelt on the countenances of those with whom he con- 
 versed, they seemed to read the very soul. They possessed, how- 
 ever, two distinct expressions, which, in a great measure, character- 
 ised the whole man. When engaged in traffic, the intelligence of 
 his face appeared lively, active, and flexible, though uncommonly 
 acute; if the conversation turned on the ordinary transactions of 
 life, his air became abstracted and restless ; but if, by chance, the 
 revolution and the country were the topic, his whole system seemed 
 altered — all his faculties were concentrated : he would listen for a 
 great length of time, without speaking, and then would break silence 
 by some light and jocular remark, that was too much at variance 
 with his former manner, not to be affectation. But of the war, and 
 of his father, he seldom spoke, and always from some very obvious 
 necessity. 
 
 To a superficial observer, avarice would seem his ruling passion — 
 and, all things considered, he was as unfit a subject for the plans of 
 Katy Haynes as can be readily imagined. On entering the room, 
 the pedler relieved himself from his burden, which, as it stood on 
 the floor, reached nearly to his shoulders, and saluted the family with 
 modest civility. To Harper he made a silent bow, without lifting 
 his eyes from the carpet : but the curtain prevented any notice of 
 
4-2 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 the presence of Captain Wharton. Sarah gave but little time for 
 the usual salutations, before she commenced her survey of the con- 
 tents of the pack ; and, for several minutes, the two were engaged 
 in bringing to light the various articles it contained. The tables, 
 chairs, and floor, were soon covered with silks, crapes, gloves, mus- 
 lins, and all the stock of an itinerant trader. Caesar was employed 
 to hold open the mouth of the pack, as its hoards were discharged, 
 and occasionally he aided his young lady, by directing her admiration 
 to some article of finery, which, from its deeper contrast in colours, 
 he thought more worthy of her notice. At length, Sarah, having 
 selected several articles, and satisfactorily arranged the prices, ob- 
 served in a cheerful voice — 
 
 “ But, Harvey, you have told us no news. Has Lord Cornwallis 
 beaten the rebels again V’ 
 
 The question could not have been heard ; for the pedler, burying 
 his body in the pack, brought forth a quantity of lace of exquisite 
 fineness, and, holding it up to view, he required the admiration of 
 the young lady. Miss Peyton dropped the cup she was engaged 
 in washing, from her hand ; and Frances exhibited the whole of 
 that lovely face, which had hitherto only suffered one of its joyous 
 eyes to be seen, beaming with a colour that shamed the damask 
 which enviously concealed her figure. 
 
 The aunt quitted her employment ; and Birch soon disposed of a 
 large portion of this valuable article. The praises of the ladies had 
 drawn the whole person of the younger sister into view ; and Frances 
 was slowly rising from the window, as Sarah repeated her question, 
 with an exultation in her voice, that proceeded more from pleasure 
 in her purchase, than her political feelings. The younger sister re- 
 sumed her seat, apparently examining the state of the clouds, while 
 the pedler, finding a reply was expected, answered slowly — 
 
 u There is some talk, below, about Tarleton having defeated Gen- 
 eral Sumpter, on the Tiger river.” 
 
 Captain Wbarton now involuntarily thrust his head between the 
 
T HE SPY. 
 
 4 3 
 
 opening of the curtains into the room ; and Frances turning her car 
 in breathless silence, noticed the quiet eyes of Harper looking at the 
 pedler, over the hook he was affecting to read, with an expression 
 that denoted him to be a listener of no ordinary interest. 
 
 “Indeed!” cried the exulting Sarah; “ Sumpter — Sumpter — • 
 who is he? I'll not buy even a pin, until you tell me all the 
 news,” she continued, laughing, and throwing down a muslin she 
 bad been examining. 
 
 For a moment the pedler hesitated : his eye glanced towards Har- 
 per, who was yet gazing at him with settled meaning, and the whole 
 manner of Birch was altered. Approaching the fire, he took from 
 his mouth a large allowance of the Virginian weed, and depositing 
 it, with the superabundance of its juices, without mercy to Miss 
 Peyton's shining andirons, he returned to his goods. 
 
 “ He lives somewhere among the niggars to the south,” answered 
 the pedler, abruptly. 
 
 “No more niggar than be yourself, Mister Birch,” interrupted 
 Caesar tartly, dropping, at the same time, the covering of the goods 
 in high displeasure. 
 
 “ Hush, Caesar — hush — never mind it now,” said Sarah Wharton 
 soothingly, impatient to hear further. 
 
 “ A black man so good as white, Miss Sally,” continued the of- 
 fended negro, “ so long as he behave heself.” 
 
 “ And frequently he is much better,” rejoined his mistress : “ but, 
 Harvey, who is this Mr. Sumpter ?” 
 
 A slight indication of humour showed itself on the face of the 
 pedler — but it disappeared, and he continued as if the discourse had 
 met with no interruption from the sensitiveness of the domestic. 
 
 “As I was saying, he lives among the coloured people in the 
 south” — Caesar resumed his occupation — “ and he has lately had a 
 skrimmage with this Colonel Tarleton — ” 
 
 “ Who defeated him of course,” cried Sarah, with confidence. 
 
 “ So say the troops at Morrisania.” 
 
44 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ But wliat do you say ?” Mr. Wharton ventured to enquire, yet 
 speaking in a low tone. 
 
 “ I repeat but what I hear,” said Birch, offering a piece of cloth 
 to the inspection of Sarah, who rejected it in silence, evidently de- 
 termined to hear more before she made another purchase. 
 
 “ They say, however, at the Plains,” the pedler continued, first 
 throwing his eyes again round the room, and letting them rest for 
 an instant on Harper, “ that Sumpter and one or two more were all 
 that were hurt, and that the rigTars were all cut to pieces, for the 
 militia were fixed snugly in a log barn.” 
 
 “Not very probable,” said Sarah, contemptuously, “though I 
 make no doubt the rebels got behind the logs.” 
 
 “I think,” said the pedler, coolly, again offering the silk, “it's 
 quite ingenious to get a log between one and a gun, instead of get- 
 ting between a gun and a log.” 
 
 The eyes of Harper dropped quietly on the pages of the volume 
 in his hand, while Frances, rising, came forward with a smile in her 
 face, as she enquired, in a tone of affability that the pedler had never 
 before witnessed from the younger sister — 
 
 “ Have you more of the lace, Mr. Birch ?” 
 
 The desired article was immediately produced, and Frances 
 became a purchaser also. By her order a glass of liquor was offered 
 to the trader, who took it with thanks, and, having paid his 
 compliments to the master of the house and the ladies, drank the 
 beverage. 
 
 “So, it is thought that Colonel Tarleton has worsted General 
 Sumpter ?” said Mr. Wharton, affecting to be employed in mending 
 the cup that was broken by the eagerness of his sister-in-law. 
 
 “ I believe they think so at Morrisania,” said Birch, dryly. 
 
 “ Have you any other news, friend ?” asked Captain Wharton, 
 venturing to thrust his face without the curtains again. 
 
 “ Have you heard that Major Andre has been hanged?” 
 
 Captain Wharton started, and for a moment glances of great 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 45 
 
 significance were exchanged between him and the trader, when he 
 observed, with affected indifference, “that must have been some 
 weeks ago.” 
 
 “Does his execution make much noise?” asked the father, 
 striving to make the broken china unite. 
 
 “People will talk, you know, 9 Squire.” 
 
 “Is there any probability of movements below, my friend, that 
 will make travelling dangerous ?” asked Harper, looking steadily at 
 the other, in expectation of his reply. 
 
 Some bunches of ribands fell from the hands of Birch ; his coun- 
 tenance changed instantly, losing its keen expression in intent 
 meaning, as he answered slowly — “It is some time since the rig’lar 
 cavalry were out, and I saw some of De Lancey’s men cleaning 
 their arms, as I passed their quarters; it would be no wonder 
 if they took the scent soon, for the Virginia horse are low in 
 the county.” 
 
 “ Are they in much force ?” asked Mr. Wharton, suspending all 
 employment in anxiety. 
 
 “I did not count them.” 
 
 Frances was the only observer of the change in the manner 
 of Birch, and, on turning to Harper, he had resumed his book in 
 silence. She took some of the ribands in her hand — laid them 
 down again — and, bending over the goods, so that her hair, falling 
 in rich curls, shaded her face, she observed, blushing with a colour 
 that suffused her neck — 
 
 “ I thought the southern horse had marched towards the Dela- 
 ware.” 
 
 “ It may be so,” said Birch ; “ I passed the troops at a dis- 
 tance.” 
 
 Caesar had now selected a piece of calico, in which the gaudy 
 colours of yellow and red were contrasted on a white ground, and, 
 after admiring it for several minutes, he laid it down with a sigh, as 
 he exclaimed, “Berry pretty calico.” 
 
46 
 
 THE SF Y. 
 
 “ That,” said Sarah ; “ yes, that would make a proper gown for 
 your wife, Caesar.” 
 
 “ Yes, Miss Sally,” cried the delighted black, “ it make old 
 Dinah heart leap for joy — so berry genteel.” 
 
 “Yes,” added the pedler, quaintly, “that is only wanting to 
 make Dinah look like a rainbow.” 
 
 Caesar eyed his young mistress eagerly, until she enquired of 
 Harvey the price of the article. 
 
 “ Why, much as I light of chaps,” said the pedler. 
 
 “ How much ?” demanded Sarah in surprise. 
 
 “According to my luck in finding purchasers; for my friend 
 Dinah, you may have it at four shillings.” 
 
 “It is too much,” said Sarah, turning to some goods for herself. 
 
 “ Monstrous price for coarse calico, Mister Birch,” grumbled 
 Caesar, dropping the opening of the pack again. 
 
 “We will say three, then,” added the pedler, “if you like that 
 better.” 
 
 “ Be sure he like ’em better,” said Caesar, smiling good-humour- 
 edly, and re-opening the pack — “ Miss Sally like a free shilling 
 when she give, and a four shilling when she take.” 
 
 The bargain was immediately concluded; but in measuring, the 
 cloth wanted a little of the well-known ten yards required by the 
 dimensions of Dinah. By dint of a strong arm, however, it grew to 
 the desired length, under the experienced eye of the pedler, who 
 conscientiously added a riband of corresponding brilliancy with the 
 calico; and Caesar hastily withdrew, to communicate the joyful 
 intelligence to his aged partner. 
 
 During the movements created by the conclusion of the purchase, 
 Captain Wharton had ventured to draw aside the curtain, so as to 
 admit a view of his person, and he now enquired of the pedler, who 
 had begun to collect the scattered goods, at what time he had left 
 the city. 
 
 “ At early twilight,” was the answer. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 41 
 
 “ So lately !” cried the other in surprise : and tlien correcting his 
 manner, by assuming a more guarded air, he continued — “ Could 
 you pass the pickets at so late an hour ?” 
 
 “ I did,” was the laconic reply. 
 
 “ You must be well known by this time, Harvey, to the officer? 
 of the British army,” cried Sarah, smiling knowingly on the pedler. 
 
 “ I know some of then? by sight,” said Birch, glancing his eyes 
 round the apartment, taking in their course Captain Wharton, and 
 resting for an instant on the countenance of Harper. 
 
 Mr. Wharton had listened intently to each speaker, in succession, 
 and had so far lost the affectation of indifference, as to be crushing 
 in his hand the pieces of china on which he had expended so much 
 labour in endeavouring to mend it ; when, observing the pedler tying 
 the last knot in his pack, he asked abruptly — 
 
 “Are we about to be disturbed again with the enemy?” 
 
 “ Who do you call the enemy ?” said the pedler, raising himself 
 erect, and giving the other a look, before which the eyes of Mr. 
 Wharton sunk in instant confusion. 
 
 “All are enemies who disturb our peace,” said Miss Peyton, ob- 
 serving that her brother was unable to speak. “ But are the royal 
 troops out from below ?” 
 
 “ 'Tis quite likely they soon may be,” returned Birch, raising his 
 pack from the floor, and preparing to leave the room. 
 
 “ And the continentals,” continued Miss Peyton mildly, “ are the 
 continentals in the county ?” 
 
 Harvey was about to utter something in reply, when the door 
 opened, ancf Caesar made his appearance, attended by his delighted 
 spouse. 
 
 The race of blacks of which Caesar was a favourable specimen is 
 becoming very rare. The old family servant, who, born and reared 
 in the dwelling of his master, identified himself with the welfare of 
 those whom it was his lot to serve, is giving place in every direction 
 to that vagrant class which has sprung up within the last thirty 
 
48 
 
 THE SP Y . 
 
 years, and whose members roam through the country unfettered by 
 princij les, and uninfluenced by attachments. For it is one of the 
 curses of slavery, that its victims become incompetent to the attri- 
 butes of a freeman. The short curly hair of Caesar had acquired 
 from age a colouring of grey, that added greatly to the venerable 
 cast of his appearance. Long and indefatigable applications of the 
 comb had straightened the close curls of his forehead, until they 
 stood erect in a stiff and formal brush, that gave at least two inches 
 to his stature. The shining black of his youth had lost its glistening 
 hue, and it had been succeeded by a dingy brown. His eyes, which 
 stood at a most formidable distance from each other, were small, and 
 characterised by an expression of good feeling, occasionally inter- 
 rupted by the petulance of an indulged servant ; they, however, now 
 danced with inward delight. His nose possessed, in an eminent 
 manner, all the requisites for smelling, but with the most modest 
 unobtrusiveness; the nostrils being abundantly capacious, without 
 thrusting themselves in the way of their neighbours. His mouth 
 was capacious to a fault, and was only tolerated on account of the 
 double row of pearls it contained. In person Caesar was short, and 
 we should say square, had not all the angles and curves of his figure 
 bid defiance to any thing like mathematical symmetry. His arms 
 were long and muscular, and terminated by two bony hands, that 
 exhibited on one side, a colouring of blackish grey, and on the other, 
 a faded pink. But it was in his legs that nature had indulged her 
 most capricious humour. There was an abundance of material inju- 
 diciously used. The calves were neither before nor behind, but 
 rather on the outer side of the limb, inclining forward, and so close 
 to the knee as to render the free use of that joint a subject of doubt. 
 In the foot, considering it as a base on which the body was to rest, 
 Cicsar had no cause of complaint, unless, indeed, it might be that 
 the leg was placed so near the centre, as to make it sometimes a 
 matter of dispute, whether he was not walking backwards. But 
 whatever might be the faults a statuary could discover in his person, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 49 
 
 the heart of Caesar Thompson was in the right place, and, we doubt 
 not, of very just dimensions. 
 
 Accompanied by his ancient companion, Caesar now advanced, and 
 paid his tribute of gratitude in words. Sarah received them with 
 great complacency, and made a few compliments to the taste of the 
 husband, and the probable appearance of the wife. Frances, with a 
 face beaming with a look of pleasure that corresponded to the smiling 
 countenances of the blacks, offered the service of her needle in fitting 
 the admired calico to its future uses. The offer was humbly and 
 gratefully accepted. 
 
 As Caesar followed his wife and the pedler from the apartment, 
 and was in the act of closing the door, he indulged himself in a grate- 
 ful soliloquy, by saying aloud — 
 
 “ Good little lady — Miss Fanny — take care of he fader — love to 
 make a gown for old Dinah, too.” What else his feelings might 
 have induced him to utter is unknown, but the sound of his voice 
 was heard some time after the distance rendered his words indistinct. 
 
 Harper had dropped his book, and he sat an admiring witness of 
 the scene ; and Frances enjoyed a double satisfaction, as she received 
 an approving smile from a face which concealed, under the traces of 
 deep thought and engrossing care, the benevolent expression which 
 characterises all the best feelings of the human heart. 
 
 3 
 
CHAPTER 17. 
 
 “ It is the form, the eye, the word. 
 
 The bearing of that stranger Lord ; 
 
 His stature, manly, bold, and tall, 
 
 Built like a castle’s battled wall, 
 
 Yet moulded in such just degrees, 
 
 His giant strength seems lightsome ease, 
 
 Weather and war their rougher trace 
 Have left on that majestic face ; — 
 
 But ’tis his dignity of eye ! 
 
 There, if a suppliant, would I fly, 
 
 Secure, ’mid danger, wrongs, and grief, 
 
 Of sympathy, redress, relief — 
 
 That glance, if guilty, would I dread 
 More than the doom that spoke me dead.” 
 
 “ Enough, enough !” the princess cried, 
 kt ’Tis Scotland’s hope, her joy, her pride !” 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 The party sat in silence for many minutes after the pedler had 
 withdrawn. Mr. Wharton had heard enough to increase his uneasi- 
 ness, without in the least removing his apprehensions on behalf of 
 his son. The Captain was impatiently wishing Harper in any other 
 place than the one he occupied with such apparent composure, while 
 Miss Peyton completed the disposal of her breakfast equipage, with 
 the mild complacency of her nature, aided a little by an inward satis- 
 faction at possessing so large a portion of the trader’s lace — Sarah 
 was busily occupied in arranging her purchases, and Frances was 
 kindly assisting in the occupation, disregarding her own neglected 
 bargains, when the stranger suddenly broke the silence by saying — 
 u If any apprehensions of me induce Captain Wharton to maintain 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 51 
 
 his disguise, I wish him to be undeceived ; had I motives for betray- 
 ing him, they could not operate under present circumstances.” 
 
 The younger sister sank into her seat colourless and astonished. 
 Miss Peyton dropped the tea-tray she was lifting from the table, and 
 Sarah sat with her purchases unheeded in her lap, in speechless sur- 
 prise. Mr. Wharton was stupified; but the Captain, hesitating a 
 moment from astonishment, sprang into the middle of the room, and 
 exclaimed, as he tore off the instruments of his disguise — 
 
 “ I believe you from my soul, and this tiresome imposition shall 
 continue no longer. Yet I am at a loss to conceive in what manner 
 you should know me.” 
 
 u You really look so much better in your proper person, Captain 
 Wharton,” said Harper, with a slight smile, “ I would advise you 
 never to conceal it in future. There, is enough to betray you, if 
 other sources of detection were wanting :” as he spoke, he pointed 
 to a picture suspended over the mantel-piece, which exhibited the 
 British officer in his regimentals. 
 
 u I had flattered myself,” cried young Wharton, with a laugh, 
 “ that I looked better on the canvass than in a masquerade. You 
 must be a close observer, sir.” 
 
 “ Necessity has made me one,” said Harper, rising from his seat. 
 
 Frances met him as he was about to withdraw 7 , and, taking his 
 hand between both her own, said with earnestness, her cheeks man- 
 tling with their richest vermilion — “ You cannot — you will not be- 
 tray my brother.” 
 
 For an instant Harper paused in silent admiration of the lovely 
 pleader, and then, folding her hands on his breast, he replied so- 
 lemnly — “I cannot, and I will not;” he released her hands, and 
 laying his own on her head gently, continued — “If the blessing of 
 a stranger can profit you, receive it.” He turned, and, bowing low, 
 retired, with a delicacy that was duly a ppreciated by those he quitted, 
 to his own apartment. 
 
 The whole party were deeply impressed with the ingen nous and 
 
52 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 solemn manner of the traveller, and all but the father found imme- 
 diate relief in his declaration. Some of the cast-off clothes of the 
 captain, which had been removed with the goods from the city, were 
 produced ; and young Wharton, released from the uneasiness of his 
 disguise, began at last to enjoy a visit which had been undertaken at 
 so much personal risk to himself. Mr. Wharton retiring to his 
 apartment, in pursuance of his regular engagements, the ladies, with 
 the young man, were left to an uninterrupted communication on 
 such subjects as were most agreeable. Even Miss Peyton was af- 
 fected with the spirits of her young relatives ; and they sat for an 
 hour enjoying, in heedless confidence, the pleasures of an unrestrained 
 conversation, without reflecting on any danger which might be im- 
 pending over them. The city and their acquaintances were not long 
 neglected; for Miss Peyton, who had never forgotten the many 
 agreeable hours of her residence within its boundaries, soon enquired, 
 among others, after their old acquaintance, Colonel Wellmere. 
 
 “ Oh l ” cried the Captain, gaily, “ he yet continues there, as hand- 
 some and as gallant as ever.” 
 
 Although a woman be not actually in love, she seldom hears with- 
 out a blush the name of a man whom she might love, and who has 
 been connected with herself, by idle gossips, in the amatory rumour 
 of the day. Such had been the case with Sarah, and she dropped 
 her eyes on the carpet with a smile, that, aided by the blush 
 which suffused her cheek, in no degree detracted from her native 
 charms. 
 
 Captain Wharton, without heeding this display of interest in his 
 sister, immediately continued — “At times he is melancholy — we tell 
 him it must be love.” Sarah raised her eyes to the face of her 
 brother, and was consciously turning them on the rest of the party, 
 when she met those of her sister, laughing with good humour and 
 high spirits, as she cried, “ Poor man, does he despair ?” 
 
 “Why, no — one would think he could not; the eldest son of a 
 man of wealth, so handsome, and a Colonel.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 5*3 
 
 “ Strong reasons, indeed, why he should prevail,” said Sarah, en- 
 deavouring to laugh ; “ more particularly the latter.” 
 
 “ Let me tell you,” replied the Captain, gravely, “ a Lieutenant- 
 Colonelcy in the Guards is a very pretty thing.” 
 
 “And Colonel "YVeilmere a very pretty man,” added Frances. 
 
 “Nay, Frances,” returned her sister, “Colonel Wellmere was 
 never a favourite of yours; he is too loyal to his king to be agreeable 
 to your taste ?” 
 
 Frances cpiickly answered, “And is not Henry loyal to his king ?” 
 
 “ Come, come,” said Miss Peyton, “ no difference of opinion about 
 the Colonel — he is a favourite of mine.” 
 
 “ Fanny likes Majors better,” cried the brother, pulling her upon 
 his knee. 
 
 “Nonsense,” said the blushing girl, as she endeavoured to extri- 
 cate herself from the grasp of her laughing brother. 
 
 “ It surprises me,” continued the Captain, “ that Peyton, when 
 he procured the release of my father, did not endeavour to detain 
 my sister in the rebel camp.” 
 
 “ That might have endangered his own liberty,” said the smiling 
 girl, resuming her seat; “you know it is liberty for which Major 
 Dunwoodie is fighting.” 
 
 “ Liberty !” exclaimed Sarah ; “ very pretty liberty which ex- 
 changes one master for fifty.” 
 
 “ The privilege of changing masters at all is a liberty.” 
 
 “ And one you ladies would sometimes be glad to exercise,” cried 
 the Captain. 
 
 “We like, I believe, to have the liberty of choosing who they 
 shall be in the first place,” said the laughing girl ; “ don’t we, aunt 
 Jeanette ?” 
 
 “Me!” cried Miss Peyton, starting; “what do I know of such 
 things, child ? you must ask some one else, if you wish to learn such 
 matters.” 
 
 “Ah ! you would have us think you were never young; but what 
 
54 
 
 THE SPF, 
 
 am I to believe of all the tales I have heard about the handsome 
 Miss Jeanette Peyton ?” 
 
 “ Nonsense, my dear ; nonsense,” said the aunt, endeavouring to 
 suppress a smile ; “ it is very silly to believe all you hear.” _ 
 
 “ Nonsense, do you call it?” cried the Captain, gaily; “to this 
 hour General Montrose toasts Miss Peyton ; I heard him within the 
 week, at Sir Henry's table.” 
 
 “Why, Henry, you are as saucy as your sister; and to break in 
 upon your folly, I must take you to see my new home-made manu- 
 factures, which I will be bold enough to put in contrast with the 
 finery of Birch.” 
 
 The young people rose to follow their aunt, in perfect good hu- 
 mour with each other and the world. On ascending the stairs to 
 the place of deposit for Miss Peyton's articles of domestic economy, 
 she availed herself, however, of an opportunity to enquire of her 
 nephew, whether General Montrose suffered as much from the gout, 
 as he had done when she knew him. 
 
 It is a painful discovery we make, as we advance in life, that even 
 those we most love are not exempt from its frailties. When the 
 heart is fresh, and the view of the future unsullied by the blemishes 
 which have been gathered from the experience of the past, our feel- 
 ings are most holy; we love to identify with the persons of our 
 natural friends all those qualities to which we ourselves aspire, and 
 all those virtues we have been taught to revere. The confidence 
 with which we esteem seems a part of our nature ; and there is a 
 purity thrown around the affections which tie us to our kindred, that 
 after life can seldom hope to see uninjured. The family of Mr. 
 Wharton continued to enjoy, for the remainder of the day, a happi- 
 ness to which they had long been strangers ; and one that sprung, 
 in its younger members, from the delights of the most confident 
 affection, and the exchange of the most disinterested endearments. 
 
 Plarper appeared only at the dinner table, and he retired witli the 
 clot! i, under the pretence of some engagements in his own room 
 
THE SV V , 
 
 55 
 
 Notwithstanding the confidence created by his manner, the family 
 felt his absence a relief ; for the visit of Captain Wharton was ne- 
 cessarily to be confined to a very few days, both from the limitation 
 of his leave of absence, and the danger of a discovery. 
 
 All dread of consequences, however, was lost in the pleasure of 
 the meeting. Once or twice during the day, Mr. Wharton had sug- 
 gested a doubt as to the character of his unknown guest, and the 
 possibility of the detection of his son proceeding in some manner 
 from his information : but the idea was earnestly opposed by all his 
 children ; even Sarah uniting with her brother and sister in pleading 
 warmly in favour of the sincerity expressed in the outward appear- 
 ance of the traveller. 
 
 “ Such appearances, my children,” replied the desponding parent, 
 “ are but too often deceitful; when men like Major Andre lend 
 themselves to the purposes of fraud, it is idle to reason from quali- 
 ties, much less externals.” 
 
 “ Fraud !” cried his son quickly ; “ surely, sir, you forget that 
 Major Andre was serving his king, and that the usages of war justi- 
 fied the measure.” 
 
 “And did not the usages of war justify his death, Henry ?” in- 
 quired Frances, speaking in a low voice, unwilling to abandon what 
 she thought the cause of her country, and yet unable to suppress her 
 feelings for the man. 
 
 “ Never !” exclaimed the young man, springing from his seat, and 
 pacing the floor rapidly — ■“ Frances, you shock me ; suppose it should 
 be my fate, even now, to fall into the power of the rebels ; you would 
 vindicate my execution — perhaps exult in the cruelty of Washing- 
 ton.” 
 
 “ Henry !” said Frances, solemnly, quivering with emotion, and 
 with a face pale as death, “you little know my heart.” 
 
 “Pardon me, my sister — my little Fanny,” cried the repentant 
 youth, pressing her to his bosom, and kissing off the tears which had 
 burst, spite of her resolution, from her eyes. 
 
56 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ It is very foolish to regard your hasty words, I know,” said 
 Frances, extricating herself from his arms, and raising her yet humid 
 eyes to his face with a smile ; “ but reproach from those we love is 
 most severe, Henry; particularly — where we — we think — we 
 know” — her paleness gradually gave place to the colour of the rose, 
 as she concluded in a low voice, with her eyes directexi to the carpet, 
 “ we are undeserving of it.” 
 
 Miss Peyton moved from her own seat to the one next her niece, 
 and, kindly taking her hand, observed, “ You should not suffer the 
 impetuosity of your brother to affect you so much ; boys, you know, 
 are proverbially ungovernable.” 
 
 “And, from my conduct, you might add cruel,” said the captain, 
 seating himself on the other side of his sister ; “ but on the subject 
 of the death of Andre we are all of us uncommonly sensitive. You 
 did not know him ; he was all that was brave — that was accomplish- 
 ed — that was estimable.” Frances smiled faintly, and shook her 
 head, but made no reply. Her brother, observing the marks of in- 
 credulity in her countenance, continued — “ You doubt it, and justify 
 his death ?” 
 
 “ I do not doubt his worth,” replied the maid, mildly, “ nor his 
 being deserving of a more happy fate ; but I cannot doubt the pro- 
 priety of Washington’s conduct. I know but little of the customs 
 of war, and wish to know less ; but with what hopes of success could 
 the Americans contend, if they yielded all the principles which long 
 usage had established, to the exclusive purposes of the British ?” 
 
 “ Why contend at all ?” cried Sarah, impatiently ; “ besides, being 
 rebels, all their acts are illegal.” 
 
 “Women are but mirrors, which reflect the images before them,” 
 cried the captain, good-naturedly. “ In Frances I see the picture of 
 Major Dunwoodie, and in Sarah — ” 
 
 “ Colonel Wellmere,” interrupted the younger sister, laughing, 
 and blushing crimson. “ I must confess I am indebted to the Major 
 for my reasoning- -am I not, aunt Jeanette?” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 57 
 
 “ I believe it is something like his logic, indeed, child.” 
 
 I plead guilty ; and you, Sarah, have not forgotten the learned 
 discussions of Colonel Wellmere.” 
 
 “I trust I never forget the right,” said Sarah, emulating her 
 sister in colour, and rising, under the pretence of avoiding the heat 
 of the fire. 
 
 Nothing occurred of any moment during the rest of the day; but 
 in the evening Caesar reported that he had overheard voices in the 
 room of Harper conversing in a low tone. The apartment occupied 
 by the traveller was the wing at the extremity of the building, oppo- 
 site to the parlour in which the family ordinarily assembled ; and it 
 seems, that Caesar had established a regular system of espionage, 
 with a view to the safety of his young master. This intelligence 
 gave some uneasiness to all the members of the family ; but the en- 
 trance of Harper himself, with the air of benevolence and sincerity 
 which shone through his reserve, soon removed the doubts from the 
 breast of all but Mr. Wharton. His children and sister believed 
 Caesar to have been mistaken, and the evening passed off without any 
 additional alarm. 
 
 On the afternoon of the succeeding day, the party were assembled 
 in the parlour around the tea-table of Miss Peyton, when a change 
 in the weather occurred. The thin scud , that apparently floated but 
 a short distance above the tops of the hills, began to drive from the 
 west towards the east in astonishing rapidity. The rain yet continued 
 to beat against the eastern windows of the house with fury ; in that 
 direction the heavens were dark and gloomy. Frances was gazing at 
 the scene with the desire of youth to escape from the tedium of con- 
 finement, when, as if by magic, all was still. The rushing winds had 
 ceased, the pelting of the storm was over, and, springing to the win- 
 dow, with delight pictured in her face, she saw a glorious ray of sun- 
 shine lighting the opposite wood. The foliage glittered with the 
 checkered beauties of the October leaf, reflecting back from the 
 moistened boughs the richest lustre of an American autumn. In an 
 
 O * 
 
58 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 instant, the piazza, which opened to the south, was thronged with the 
 inmates of the cottage. The air was mild, balmy, and refreshing ; 
 in the east, clouds, which might be likened to the retreating masses 
 of a discomfited army, hung around the horizon in awful and in- 
 creasing darkness. At a little elevation above the cottage, the thin 
 vapour was still rushing towards the east with amazing velocity; 
 while in the west the sun had broken forth and shed his parting 
 radiance on the scene below, aided by the fullest richness of a clear 
 atmosphere and a freshened herbage. Such moments belong only to 
 the climate of America, and are enjoyed in a degree proportioned to 
 the suddenness of the contrast, and the pleasure we experience in 
 escaping from the turbulence of the elements to the quiet of a peace- 
 ful evening, and an air still as the softest mornings in June. 
 
 “ What a magnificent scene l” said Harper, in a low tone ; u how 
 grand ! how awfully sublime ! — may such a quiet speedily await the 
 struggle in which my country is engaged, and such a glorious even- 
 ing follow the day of her adversity !” 
 
 Frances, who stood next to him, alone heard the voice. Turning 
 in amazement from the view to the speaker, she saw him standing 
 oare-headed, erect, and with his eyes lifted to Heaven. There was 
 no longer the quiet which had seemed their characteristic, but they 
 were lighted into something like enthusiasm, and a slight flush passed 
 over his features. 
 
 There can be no danger apprehended from such a man, thought 
 Frances ; such feelings belong only to the virtuous. 
 
 The musings of the party were now interrupted by the sudden 
 appearance of the pedler. He had taken advantage of the first gleam 
 of sunshine to hasten to the cottage. Heedless of wet or dry as it 
 lay in his path, with arms swinging to and fro, and with his head 
 bent forward of his body several inches, Harvey Birch approached 
 the piazza, with a gait peculiarly his own. — It was the quick, length- 
 ened pace of an itinerant vender of goods. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 59 
 
 “ Fine evening,” said the pedler, saluting the party, without rais- 
 ing his eyes ; u quite warm and agreeable for the season.” 
 
 Mr. Wharton assented to the remark, and enquired kindly after 
 the health of his father. Harvey heard him, and continued standing 
 for some time in mood}^ silence; but the question being repeated, ho 
 answered with a slight tremour in his voice — 
 
 He fails fast ; old age and hardships will do their work.” The 
 pedler turned his face from the view of most of the family; but 
 Frances noticed his glistening eyes and quivering lip, and, for the 
 second time, Harvey rose in her estimation. 
 
 The valley in which the residence of Mr. Wharton stood ran in a 
 direction from north-west to south-east, and the house was placed on 
 the side of a hill which terminated its length in the former direction. 
 A small opening, occasioned by the receding of the opposite hill, and 
 the fall of the land to the level of the tide water, afforded a view of 
 the Sound* over the tops of the distant woods on its margin. The 
 surface of the water which had so lately been lashing the shores with 
 boisterous fury, was already losing its ruffled darkness in the long 
 and regular undulations that succeeded a tempest, while the light air 
 from the south-west was gently touching their summits, lending its 
 feeble aid in stilling the waters. Some dark spots were now to be 
 distinguished, occasionally rising into view, and again sinking behind 
 the lengthened waves which interposed themselves to the sight. 
 They were unnoticed by all but the pedler. He had seated himself 
 on the piazza, at a distance from Harper, and appeared to have for- 
 gotten the object of his visit. His roving eye, however, soon caught 
 a glimpse of these new objects in the view, and he sprang up with 
 alacrity, gazing intently towards the water. He changed his place, 
 
 * An island more than forty leagues in length lies opposite the coasts of 
 New York and Connecticut. The arm of the sea which separates it from 
 the main is technically called a sound, and in that part of the country, par 
 excellence , The Sound. This sheet of water varies in its breadth from five to 
 thirty miles. 
 
60 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 glanced his eye with marked uneasiness on Harper, and then said 
 with great emphasis — 
 
 “ The rigTars must he out from below.” 
 
 “ Why do you think so ?” enquired Captain Wharton, eagerly. 
 “ God send it may be true ; I want their escort in again.” 
 
 “ Them ten whale-boats would not move so fast unless they were 
 better manned than common.” 
 
 “ Perhaps,” cried Mr. Wharton in alarm, “they are — they are 
 continentals returning from the island.” 
 
 “ They look like rigTars,” said the pedler, with meaning. 
 
 “ Look !” repeated the captain, u there is nothing but spots to be 
 seen.” 
 
 Harvey disregarded his observation, but seemed to be soliloquizing, 
 as he said in an under tone, “ They came out before the gale — have 
 laid on the island these two days — horse are on the road — there will 
 soon be fighting near us.” During this speech, Birch several times 
 glanced his eye towards Harper, with evident uneasiness, but no cor- 
 responding emotion betrayed any interest of that gentleman in the 
 scene. He stood in silent contemplation of the view, and seemed 
 enjoying the change in the air. As Birch concluded, however, Har- 
 per turned to his host, and mentioned that his business would not 
 admit of unnecessary delay ; he would, therefore, avail himself of 
 the fine evening to ride a few miles on his journey. Mr. Wharton 
 made many professions of regret at losing so agreeable an inmate ; 
 but was too mindful of his duty not to speed the parting guest, and 
 orders were instantly given to that effect. 
 
 The uneasiness of the pedler increased in a manner for which 
 nothing apparent could account ; his eye was constantly wandering 
 towards the lower end of the vale, as if in expectation of some inter- 
 ruption from that quarter. At length Caesar appeared, leading the 
 noble beast which was to bear the weight of the traveller. The ped- 
 ler officiously assisted to tighten the girths, and fasten the blue cloak 
 and vallise to the mail-straps. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 <H 
 
 Every preparation being completed, Harper proceeded to take his 
 leave. To Sarah and her aunt he paid his compliments with ease 
 and kindness ; but when he came to Frances, he paused a moment, 
 while his face assumed an expression of more than ordinary benig- 
 nity. Ilis eye repeated the blessing which had before fallen from 
 his lips, and the girl felt her cheeks glow, and her heart beat, with 
 a quicker pulsation, as he spoke his adieus. There was a mutual 
 exchange of polite courtesy between the host and his parting guest ; 
 but as Harper frankly offered his hand to Captain Wharton, he re- 
 marked, in a manner of great solemnity — 
 
 “ The step you have undertaken is one of much danger, and dis- 
 agreeable consequences to yourself may result from it; in such a 
 case, I may have it in my power to prove the gratitude I owe your 
 family for its kindness.” 
 
 u Surely, sir,” cried the father, losing sight of delicacy in appre- 
 hension for his child, “ you will keep secret the discovery which your 
 being in my house has enabled you to make.” 
 
 Harper turned quickly to the speaker, and then, losing the stern- 
 ness which had begun to gather on his countenance, he answered 
 mildly^ u I have learnt nothing in your family, sir, of which I was 
 ignorant before ; but your son is safer from my knowledge of his 
 visit than he would be without it.” 
 
 He bowed to the whole party, and without taking any notice of 
 the pedler, other than by simply thanking him for his attentions, 
 mounted his horse, and, riding steadily and gracefully through the 
 little gate, was soon lost behind the hill which sheltered the valley 
 to the northward. 
 
 The eyes of the pedler followed the retiring figure of the horseman 
 so long as it continued within view, and as it disappeared from his 
 sight, he drew a long and heavy sigh, as if relieved from a load of 
 apprehension. The Whartons had meditated in silence on the cha- 
 racter and visit of their unknown guest for the same period, when 
 the father approached Birch, and observed — 
 
62 
 
 T 1£ E S P V . 
 
 “ I am yet. your debtor, Harvey, for the tobacco you were so kind 
 as to bring me from the city.” 
 
 “ If it should not prove so good as the first,” replied the pedler, 
 fixing a last and lingering look in the direction of Harper’s route, 
 “ it is owing to the scarcity of the article.” 
 
 “ I like it much,” continued the other; “but you have forgotten 
 to name the price.” 
 
 The countenance of the trader changed, and, losing its expression 
 of deep care in a natural acuteness, he answered — 
 
 “ It is hard to say what ought to be the price ; I believe I must 
 leave it to your own generosity.” 
 
 Mr. Wharton had taken a hand well filled with the images 
 of Carolus III. from his pocket, and now extended it towards Birch 
 with three of the pieces between his finger and thumb. Harvey’s 
 eyes twinkled as he contemplated the reward ; and rolling over in 
 his mouth a large quantity of the article in question, coolly stretched 
 forth his hand, into which the dollars fell with a most agreeable 
 sound ; but not satisfied with the transient music of their fall, the 
 pedler gave each piece in succession a ring on the stepping-stone of 
 the piazza, before he consigned it to the safe keeping of a huge deer- 
 skin purse, which vanished from the sight of the spectators so dex- 
 terously, that not one of them could have told about what part of 
 his person it was secreted. 
 
 This very material point in his business so satisfactorily conn 
 pleted, the pedler rose from his seat on the floor of the piazza, and 
 approached to where Captain Wharton stood, supporting his sisters 
 on either arm, as they listened with the lively interest of affection to 
 his conversation. 
 
 The agitation of the preceding incidents had caused such an 
 expenditure of the juices which had become necessary to the mouth 
 of the pedler, that a new supply of the weed was requii ed before he 
 could turn his attention to business of lesser moment. This done, 
 he asked abruptly — 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 03 
 
 cc Captain Wharton, do you go in to-night V 1 
 u No !” said the Captain, laconically, and looking at his lovely 
 burdens with great affection. u Mr. Birch, would you have me 
 leave such company so soon, when I may never enjoy it again ?” 
 u Brother ! ” said Frances, “jesting on such a subject is cruel.” 
 u I rather guess,” continued the pedler, coolly, u now the storm 
 is over, the Skinners may be moving ; you had better shorten your 
 visit, Captain Wharton.” 
 
 “ Oh !” cried the British officer, “ a few guineas will buy off those 
 rascals at any time, should I meet them. No, no, Mr. Birch, here 
 I stay until morning.” 
 
 u Money could not liberate Major Andre,” said the pedler, dryly. 
 Both the sisters now turned to the Captain in alarm, and the 
 elder observed — 
 
 “ You had better take the advice of Harvey; rest assured, bro- 
 ther, his opinion in such matters ought not to be disregarded.” 
 
 “ Yes,” added the younger, u if, as I suspect, Mr. Birch assisted 
 you to come here, your safety, our happiness, dear Henry, requires 
 you to listen to him now.” 
 
 “ I brought myself out, and can take myself in,” said the Captain, 
 positively ; u our bargain went no further than to procure my dis- 
 guise, and to let me know when the coast was clear; and in the 
 latter particular, you were mistaken, Mr. Birch.” 
 
 “ I was,” said the pedler, with some interest, “ and the greater is 
 the reason why you should get back to-night; the pass I gave you 
 will serve but once.” 
 
 “ Cannot you forge another ?” 
 
 The pale cheek of the trader showed an unusual colour, but he 
 continued silent, with his eyes fixed on the ground, until the young 
 man added, with great positiveness — “ Here I stay this night, come 
 what will.” 
 
 “ Captain Wharton,” said the pedler, with great deliberation and 
 marked emphasis, u beware a tall Virginian, with huge whiskers ; 
 
64 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 lie is below you to my knowledge; the devil can't deceive him; 1 
 never could but once." 
 
 “Let him beware of me/' said Wharton, haughtily; “but. Mr. 
 Birch, I exonerate you from further responsibility." 
 
 “ Will you give me that in writing ?" asked the cautious Birch. 
 
 “ Oh ! cheerfully," cried the Captain, with a laugh ; “ Caesar ! 
 pen, ink, and paper, while I write a discharge for my trusty attend- 
 ant, Harvey Birch, pedler, &c. &c. 
 
 The implements for writing were produced, and the Captain, with 
 great gaiety, wrote the desired acknowledgment in language of his 
 own ; which the pedler took, and carefully depositing it by the side 
 of the images of his Catholic Majesty, made a sweeping bow to the 
 whole family, and departed as he had approached. He was soon 
 seen at a distance, stealing into the door of his own humble dwelling. 
 
 The father and sisters of the Captain were too much rejoiced in 
 retaining the young man, to express, or even entertain, the appre- 
 hensions his situation might reasonably excite; but on retiring to 
 their evening repast, a cooler reflection induced the Captain to think 
 of changing his mind. Unwilling to trust himself out of the pro- 
 tection of his father’s domains, the young man despatched Caesar to 
 desire another interview with Harvey. The black soon returned 
 with the unwelcome intelligence that it was now too late. Katy had 
 told him that Harvey must be miles on his road to the northward, 
 “ having left home at early candle-light with his pack." Nothing 
 now remained to the Captain but patience, until the morning should 
 afford further opportunity of deciding on the best course for him to 
 pursue. 
 
 “ This Harvey Birch, with his knowing looks and portentous 
 warnings, gives me more uneasiness than I am willing to own," said 
 Captain Wharton, rousing himself from a fit of musing, in which 
 the danger of his situation made no small part of his meditations. 
 
 “ How is it that he is able to travel to and fro in these difficult 
 times, without molestation?" enquired Miss Peyton. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 65 
 
 “ Why the rebels suffer him to escape so easily, is more than I 
 can answer,” returned the other ; “ but Sir Henry would not permit 
 a hair of his head to be injured.” 
 
 “ Indeed !” cried Frances, with interest ; “ is he then known to 
 Sir Henry Clinton?” 
 
 “At least he ought to be.” 
 
 “ Do you think, my son,” asked Mr. Wharton, “ there is no dan- 
 ger of his betraying you?” 
 
 “ Why — no ; I reflected on that before I trusted myself to his 
 power,” said the Captain, thoughtfully : “he seems to be faithful in 
 matters of business. The danger to himself, should he return to 
 the city, would prevent such an act of villany.” 
 
 “ I think,” said Frances, adopting the manner of her brother, 
 “ Harvey Birch is not without good feelings ; at least, he has the 
 appearance of them at times.” 
 
 “ Oh !” cried his sister, exulting, “ he has loyalty, and that with 
 me is a cardinal virtue.” 
 
 “'I am afraid,” said her brother, laughing, “love of money is a 
 stronger passion than love of his king.” 
 
 “ Then,” said the father, “ you cannot be safe while in his power 
 — for no love will withstand the temptation of money, when offered 
 to avarice.” 
 
 “ Surely, sir,” cried the youth, recovering his gaiety, “ there must 
 be one love that can resist any thing — is there not, Fanny ?” 
 “Here is your candle, you kesp your father up bej^ond his usual 
 hour.” 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Through Solway sands, through Taross moss, 
 
 Blindfold, he knew the paths to cross; 
 
 By wily turns, by desperate bounds, 
 
 Had baffled Percy’s best blood-hounds. 
 
 In Eske, or Liddel, fords were none, 
 
 But he would ride them, one by one ; 
 
 Alike to him was time, or tide, 
 
 December’s snow, or July’s pride; 
 
 Alike to him was tide, or time, 
 
 Moonless midnight, or matin prime. 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 All the members of the Wharton family laid their heads on their 
 pillows that night, with a foreboding of some interruption to their 
 ordinary quiet. Uneasiness kept the sisters from enjoying their 
 usual repose, and they rose from their beds, on the following morn- 
 ing, unrefreshed, and almost without having closed their eyes. 
 
 On taking an eager and hasty survey of the valley from the win- 
 dows of their room, nothing, however, but its usual serenity was to 
 be seen. It was glittering with the opening brilliancy of one of 
 those lovely, mild days, which occur about the time of the falling of 
 the leaf ; and which, by their frequency, class the American autumn 
 with the most delightful seasons of other countries. We have no 
 spring; vegetation seems to leap into existence, instead of creeping, 
 as in the same latitudes of the old world : but how gracefully it 
 retires ! September, October, even November and December, com- 
 pose the season for enjoyment in the open air; they have their 
 storms, but they are distinct, and not of long continuance, leaving a 
 clear atmosphere and a cloudless sky. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 6 7 
 
 As nothing could be seen likely to interrupt the enjoyments and 
 harmony of such a day, the sisters descended to the parlour, with a 
 returning confidence in their brother’s security, and their own happi- 
 ness. 
 
 The family were early in assembling around the breakfast table ; 
 and Miss Peyton, with a little of that minute precision which creeps 
 into the habits of single life, had pleasantly insisted that the absence 
 of her nephew should in no manner interfere with the regular hours 
 she had established; consequently, the party were already seated 
 when the Captain made his appearance ; though the untasted coffee 
 sufficiently proved, that by none of his relatives was his absence dis- 
 regarded. 
 
 “ I think I did much better,” he cried, taking a chair between his 
 sisters, and receiving their offered salutes, “ to secure a good bed and 
 such a plentiful breakfast, instead of trusting to the hospitality of 
 that renowned corps, the Cow-Boys.” 
 
 “ If you could sleep,” said Sarah, “ you were more fortunate than 
 Frances and myself ; every murmur of the night air sounded to me 
 like the approach of the rebel army.” 
 
 “ Why,” said the Captain, laughing, “ I do acknowledge a little 
 inquietude myself — but how was it with you ?” turning to his younger 
 and evidently favourite sister, and tapping her cheek ; “ did you see 
 banners in the clouds, and mistake Miss Peyton’s AKolian harp for 
 rebellious music ?” 
 
 “Nay, Henry,” rejoined the maid, looking at him affectionately, 
 “ much as I love my own country, the approach of her troops just 
 now would give me great pain.” 
 
 The brother made no reply ; but returning the fondness expressed 
 in her eye by a look of fraternal tenderness, he gently pressed her 
 hand in silence ; when Caesar, who had participated largely in the 
 anxiety of the family, and who had risen with the dawn, and kept a 
 vigilant watch on the surrounding objects, as he stood gazing from 
 
68 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 one of the windows, exclaimed with a face that approached to some« 
 thing like the hues of a white man — 
 
 “Run — massa Harry — run — if he love old Csesar, run — here 
 come a rebel horse.” 
 
 “ Run !” repeated the British officer, gathering himself up in mili- 
 tary pride; “ no, Mr. Caesar, running is not my trade.” While speak- 
 ing, he walked deliberately to the window, where the family were 
 already collected in the greatest consternation. 
 
 At the distance of more than a mile, about fifty dragoons were to 
 be seen, winding down one of the lateral entrances of the valley. In 
 advance with an officer, was a man attired in the dress of a country- 
 man, who pointed in the direction of the cottage. A small party now ^ 
 left the main body, and moved rapidly towards the object of their 
 destination. 
 
 On reaching the road which led through the bottom of the valley, 
 they turned their horses’ heads to the north. The Whartons con- 
 tinued chained in breathless silence to the spot, watching their move- 
 ments, when the party, having reached the dwelling of Birch, made 
 a rapid circle around his grounds, and in an instant his house was 
 surrounded by a dozen sentinels. 
 
 Two or three of the dragoons now dismounted and disappeared : 
 in a few minutes, however, they returned to the yard, followed by 
 Katy, from whose violent gesticulations, it was evident that matters 
 of no trifling concern were on the carpet. A short communication 
 with the loquacious housekeeper followed the arrival of the main 
 body of the troop, and the advanced party remounting, the whole 
 moved towards the Locusts with great speed. 
 
 As yet none of the family had sufficient presence of mind to de- 
 vise any means of security for Captain Wharton ; but the danger 
 now became too pressing to admit of longer delay, and various means 
 of secreting him were hastily proposed ; but they were all haughtily 
 rejected by the young man, as unworthy of his character. It was 
 too late to retreat to the woods in the rear of the cottage, for he 
 
THE SPY* 
 
 GO 
 
 would unavoidably be seen, and, followed by a troop of horse, as in- 
 evitably taken. 
 
 At length, his sisters, with trembling hands, replaced his original 
 disguise, the instruments of which had been carefully kept at hand 
 by Caesar, in expectation of some sudden emergency. 
 
 This arrangement was hastily and imperfectly completed, as the 
 dragoons entered the lawn and orchard of the Locusts, riding with 
 the rapidity of the wind ; and in their turn the Whartons were sur- 
 rounded. 
 
 Nothing remained now, but to meet the impending examination 
 with as much indifference as the family could assume. The leader 
 of the horse dismounted, and, followed by a couple of his men, he 
 approached the outer door of the building, which was slowly and 
 reluctantly opened for his admission by Caesar. The heavy tread 
 of the trooper, as he followed the black to the door of the parlour, 
 rang in the ears of the females as it approached nearer and nearer, 
 and drove the blood from their faces to their hearts, with a chill that 
 nearly annihilated feeling. 
 
 A man, whose colossal stature manifested the possession of vast 
 strength, entered the room, and removing his cap, he saluted the 
 family with a mildness his appearance did not indicate as belonging 
 to his nature. His dark hair hung around his brow in profusion, 
 though stained with the powder which was worn at that day, and 
 his face was nearly hid in the whiskers by which it was disfigured. 
 Still, the expression of his eye, though piercing, was not bad, and 
 his voice, though deep and powerful, was far from unpleasant. 
 Frances ventured to throw a timid glance at his figure as he entered, 
 and saw at once the man, from whose scrutiny, Harvey Birch had 
 warned them, there was so much to be apprehended. 
 
 “ You have no cause for alarm, ladies/' said the officer, pausing a 
 moment, and contemplating the pale faces around him — “ my busi- 
 ness will be confined to a few questions, which, if freely answered, 
 will instantly remove us from your dwelling." 
 
70 
 
 THE Sl’Y. 
 
 “ And what may they be, sir Y 9 stammered Mr Wharton, rising 
 from his chair, and waiting anxiously for the reply. 
 
 “ Has there been a strange gentleman staying with you during 
 the storm ?” continued the dragoon, speaking with interest, and in 
 some degree sharing in the evident anxiety of the father. 
 
 u This gentleman — here — favoured us with his company during 
 the rain, and has not yet departed.” 
 
 u This gentleman !” repeated the other, turning to Captain Whar- 
 ton, and contemplating his figure for a moment, until the anxiety 
 of his countenance gave place to a lurking smile. He approached J 
 the youth with an air of comic gravity, and with a low bow, con- 
 tinued — “ I am sorry for the severe cold you have in your head, 
 sir.” 
 
 “ I !” exclaimed the Captain, in surprise ; “ I have no cold in my 
 head.” 
 
 u I fancied it then, from seeing you had covered such handsome 
 black locks with that ugly old wig; it was my mistake, you will 
 please to pardon it.” 
 
 Mr. Wharton groaned aloud ; but the ladies, ignorant of the extent 
 of their visitor’s knowledge, remained in trembling yet rigid silence. 
 
 The Captain himself moved his hand involuntarily to his head, and 
 discovered that the trepidation of his sisters had left some of his 
 natural hair exposed. The dragoon watched the movement with a 
 continued smile, when, seeming to recollect himself, turning to the 
 father, he proceeded — 
 
 “ Then, Sir, I am to understand there has not been a Mr. Harper 
 here, within the week.” 
 
 u Mr. Harper,” echoed the other, feeling a load removed from his 
 heart — u yes, — I had forgotten ; but he is gone ; and if there be 
 any thing wrong in his character, we are in entire ignorance of it — 
 to me he was a total stranger.” 
 
 “ You have but little to apprehend from his character,” answered 
 the dragoon dryly ; “ but he is gone — how — when — and whither ?” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 7l 
 
 “ He departed as he arrived,” said Mr. Wharton, gathering re- 
 newed confidence from the manner of the trooper ; rc on horseback, 
 last evening, and he took the northern road.” 
 
 The officer listened to him with intense interest, his countenance 
 gradually lighting into a smile of pleasure ; and the instant Mr. 
 Wharton concluded his laconic reply, he turned on his heel and left 
 the apartment. The Whartons, judging from his manner, thought 
 he was about to proceed in quest of the object of his enquiries. 
 They observed the dragoon, on gaining the lawn, in earnest, and 
 apparently pleased conversation with his two subalterns. In a few 
 moments orders were given to some of the troop, and horsemen left 
 the valley, at full speed, by its various roads. 
 
 The suspense of the party within, who were all highly interested 
 witnesses of this scene, was shortly terminated ; for the heavy tread 
 of the dragoon soon announced his second approach. He bowed 
 again politely as he re-entered the room, and walking up to Captain 
 Wharton,, said, with comic gravity — 
 
 “Now, sir, my principal business being done, may I beg to exa- 
 mine the quality of that wig ?” 
 
 The British officer imitated the manner of the other, as he delibe- 
 rately uncovered his head, and handing him the wig, observed, “ 1 
 hope, sir, it is to your liking.” 
 
 “ I cannot, without violating the truth, say it is,” returned the 
 dragoon ; “I prefer your ebony hair, from which you seem to have 
 combed the powder with great industry. But that must have been 
 a sad hurt you have received under this enormous black patch.” 
 
 “ You appear so close an observer of things, I should like your 
 opinion of it, sir,” said Henry, removing the silk, and exhibiting 
 the cheek free from blemish. 
 
 “ Upon my word, you improve most rapidly in externals,” added 
 the trooper, preserving his muscles in inflexible gravity : “ if I could 
 but persuade you to exchange this old surtout for that handsome 
 blue coat by your side, I think I never could witness a more agree 
 
72 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 able metamorphosis, since I was changed myself from a lieutenant 
 to a captain.” 
 
 Young Wharton very composedly did as was required; and stood 
 an extremely handsome, well-dressed young man. The dragoon 
 looked at him for a minute with the drollery that characterised his 
 manner, and then continued — 
 
 “ This is a new comer in the scene ; it is usual, you know, for 
 strangers to be introduced; I am Captain Lawton, of the Virginia 
 horse.” 
 
 “ And I, sir, am Captain Wharton, of his Majesty’s 60th regi- 
 ment of foot,” returned Henry, bowing stiffly, and recovering his 
 natural manner. 
 
 The countenance of Lawton changed instantly, and his assumed 
 quaintness vanished. He viewed the figure of Captain Wharton, as 
 he stood proudly swelling with a pride that disdained further con- 
 cealment, and exclaimed, with great earnestness — 
 
 “ Captain Wharton, from my soul I pity you !” 
 
 “ Oh ! then,” cried the father in agony, “ if you pity him, dear 
 sir, why molest him ? he is not a spy ; nothing but a desire to see 
 his friends prompted him to venture so far from the regular army in 
 disguise. Leave him with us ; there is no reward, no sum, which I 
 will not cheerfully pay.” 
 
 “ Sir, your anxiety for your friend excuses your language,” said 
 Lawton, haughtily; “but you forget I am a Virginian, and a gen- 
 tleman.” Turning to the young man, he continued — “Were you 
 ignorant, Captain Wharton, that our pickets have been below you 
 for several days?” 
 
 “ I did not know it until I reached them, and it was then too late 
 to retreat,” said Wharton, sullenly “ I came out, as my father has 
 mentioned, to see my friends, understanding your parties to be at 
 Peekskill, and near the Highlands, or surely I would not have ven- 
 tured.” 
 
 “ All this may be very true ; but the affair of Andre has made us 
 
THE STY. 
 
 73 
 
 on the alert. When treason reaches the grade of general officers, 
 Captain Wharton, it behoves the friends of liberty to be vigilant.” 
 Henry bowed to this remark in distant silence, but Sarah ventured 
 to urge something in behalf of her brother. The dragoon heard 
 her politely, and apparently with commiseration ; but willing to avoid 
 useless and embarrassing petitions, he answered mildly — 
 
 “I am not the commander of the party, madam; Major Dun- 
 woodie will decide what must be done with your brother; at all 
 events, he will receive nothing but kind and gentle treatment.” 
 u Dunwoodie !” exclaimed Frances, with a face, in which the 
 roses contended for the mastery with the paleness of apprehension ; 
 “ thank God ! then Henry is safe !” 
 
 Lawton regarded her with a mingled expression of pity and admi- 
 ration ; then shaking his head doubtingly, he continued — 
 
 u I hope so ; and with your permission, we will leave the matter 
 for his decision.” 
 
 The colour of Frances changed from the paleness of fear to the 
 glow of hope. Her dread on behalf of her brother was certainly 
 greatly diminished ; yet her form shook, her breathing became short 
 and irregular, and her whole frame gave tokens of extraordinary 
 agitation. Her eyes rose from the floor to the dragoon, and were 
 again fixed immovably on the carpet — she evidently wished to utter 
 something, but was unequal to the effort. Miss Peyton was a close 
 observer of these movements of her niece, and advancing with an air 
 of feminine dignity, enquired — 
 
 u Then, sir, we may expect the pleasure of Major Dunwoodie’s 
 company shortly ?” 
 
 “ Immediately, madam,” answered the dragoon, withdrawing his 
 admiring gaze from the person of Frances ; u expresses are already 
 on the road to announce to him our situation, and the intelligence 
 will speedily bring him to this valley ; unless, indeed, some private 
 reasons may exist to make a visit particularly unpleasant.” 
 u We shall always be happy to see Major Dunwoodie.” 
 
 4 
 
74 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u Oil ! doubtless ; he is a general favourite. May I presume on 
 it so far as to ask leave to dismount and refresh my men, who com- 
 pose a part of his squadron?” 
 
 There was a manner about the trooper, that would have made the 
 omission of such a request easily forgiven by Mr. Wharton, but he 
 was fairly entrapped by his own eagerness to conciliate, and it was 
 useless to withhold a consent which he thought would probably ne 
 extorted ; he, therefore, made the most of necessity, and gave such 
 orders as would facilitate the wishes of Captain Lawton. 
 
 The officers were invited to take their morning’s repast at the 
 family breakfast table, and having made their arrangements without, 
 the invitation was frankly accepted. None of the watchfulness, 
 which was so necessary to their situation, was neglected by the wary 
 partisan. Patroles were seen on the distant hills, taking their pro- 
 tecting circuit around their comrades, who were enjoying, in the 
 midst of dangers, a security that can only spring from the watchful- 
 ness of discipline, and the indifference of habit. 
 
 The addition to the party at Mr. Wharton’s table was only three, 
 and they were all of them men who, under the rough exterior in- 
 duced by actual and arduous service, concealed the manners of gen- 
 tlemen. Consequently, the interruption to the domestic privacy of 
 the family was marked by the observance of strict decorum. The 
 ladies left the table to their guests, who proceeded, without much 
 superfluous diffidence, to do proper honours to the hospitality of Mr 
 Wharton. 
 
 At length, Captain Lawton suspended for a moment his violent 
 attacks on the buckwheat cakes, to enquire of the master of the 
 house, if there was not a pedler of the name of Birch who lived in 
 the valley at times. 
 
 “ At times only, I believe, sir,” replied Mr. Wharton, cautiously : 
 “ he is seldom here ; I may say I never see him.” 
 
 u That is strange, too,” said the trooper, looking at the discon- 
 certed host intently, u considering he is your next neighbour: he 
 
THE STY. 
 
 75 
 
 must be quite domestic, sir ; and to the ladies it must be somewhat 
 inconvenient. I doubt not that that muslin in the window-seat cost 
 twice as much as he would have asked them for it.” 
 
 Mr. Wharton turned in consternation, and saw some of the recent 
 purchases scattered about the room. 
 
 The two subalterns struggled to conceal their smiles; but the 
 Captain resumed his breakfast with an eagerness that created a 
 doubt, whether he ever expected to enjoy another. The necessity 
 of a supply from the dominion of Dinah soon, however, afforded 
 another respite, of which Lawton availed himself. 
 
 “ I had a wish to break this Mr. Birch of his unsocial habits, and 
 gave him a call this morning,” he said : “ had I found him within, 
 I should have placed him where he would enjoy life in the midst of 
 society, for a short time at least.” 
 
 “And where might that be, sir ?” asked Mr. Wharton, conceiving 
 it necessary to say something. 
 
 “ The guard-room,” said the trooper, dryly. 
 
 “ What is the offence of poor Birch ?” asked Miss Peyton, hand- 
 ing the dragoon a fourth dish of coffee. 
 
 “ Poor !” cried the Captain ; “ if he is poor, King George is a bad 
 paymaster.” 
 
 “Yes, indeed,” said one of the subalterns, “his Majesty owes him 
 a dukedom.” 
 
 “And congress a halter,” continued the commanding officer, com- 
 mencing anew on a fresh supply of the cakes. 
 
 “ I am sorry,” said Mr. Wharton, “ that any neighbour of mine 
 should incur the displeasure of our rulers.” 
 
 “If I catch him,” cried the dragoon, while buttering another 
 cake, “ he will dangle from the limbs of one of his namesakes.” 
 
 “ He would make no bad ornament, suspended from one of those 
 locusts before his own door,” added the Lieutenant. 
 
 “Never mind,” continued the Captain; “I will have him yet 
 before I'm a major.” 
 
76 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 As the language of these officers appeared to be sincere, and such 
 as disappointed men in their rough occupations are but too apt to 
 use, the Whartons thought it prudent to discontinue the subject. 
 It was no new intelligence to any of the family, that Harvey Birch 
 was distrusted, and greatly harassed, by the American army. His 
 escapes from their hands, no less than his imprisonments, had been 
 the conversation of the country in too many instances, and under 
 circumstances of too great mystery, to be easily forgotten. In fact, 
 no small part of the bitterness, expressed by Captain Lawton against 
 the pedler, arose from the unaccountable disappearance of the latter, 
 when intrusted to the custody of two of his most faithful dragoons. 
 
 A twelvemonth had not yet elapsed, since Birch had been seen 
 lingering near the head-quarters of the commander-in-chief, and at 
 a time when important movements were expected hourly to occur. 
 So soon as the information of this fact was communicated to the 
 officer, whose duty it was to guard the avenues of the American 
 camp, he despatched Captain Lawton in pursuit of the pedler. 
 
 Acquainted with all the passes of the hills, and indefatigable in 
 the discharge of his duty, the trooper had, with much trouble and 
 toil, succeeded in effecting his object. The party had halted at a 
 farm-house for the purposes of refreshment, and the prisoner was 
 placed in a room by himself, but under the keeping of the two men 
 before mentioned ; all that was known subsequently is, that a woman 
 was seen busily engaged in the employments of the household near 
 the sentinels, and was particularly attentive to the wants of the cap- 
 tain, until he was deeply engaged in the employments of the supper- 
 table. 
 
 Afterwards, neither woman nor pedler was to be found. Tb 
 pack, indeed, was discovered open, and nearly empty, and a smab; 
 door, communicating with a room adjoining to the one in which the 
 pedler had been secured, was ajar. 
 
 Captain Lawton never could forgive the deception : his antipathies 
 to his enemies were not very moderate, but this was adding an insult 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 77 
 
 to his penetration that rankled deeply. He sat in portentous silence, 
 brooding over the exploit of his prisoner, yet mechanically pursuing 
 the business before him, until, after sufficient time had passed to 
 make a very comfortable meal, a trumpet suddenly broke on the ears 
 of the party, sending its martial tones up the valley, in startling 
 melody. The trooper rose instantly from the table, exclaiming — - 
 u Quick, gentlemen, to your horses ; there comes Dunwoodie •” 
 and, followed by his officers, he precipitately left the room. 
 
 With the exception of the sentinels left to guard Captain Whar- 
 ton, the dragoons mounted, and marched out to meet their comrades. 
 
 None of the watchfulness necessary in a war, in which similarity 
 of language, appearance, and customs, rendered prudence doubly 
 necessary, was omitted by the cautious leader. On getting suffi- 
 ciently near, however, to a body of horse of more than double his 
 own number, to distinguish countenances, Lawton plunged his rowek 
 into his charger, and in a moment he was by the side of his com- 
 mander. 
 
 The ground in front of the cottage was again occupied by the 
 horse; and, observing the same precautions as before, the newly 
 arrived troops hastened to participate in the cheer prepared for their 
 comrades 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 and let conquerors boast 
 
 Their fields of fame — he who in virtue arms 
 A young warm spirit against beauty’s charms, 
 
 Who feels her brightness, yet defies her thrall, 
 
 Is the best, bravest conqueror of them all. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 The ladies of the Wharton family had collected about a window, 
 deeply interested in the scene we have related. 
 
 Sarah viewed the approach of her countrymen with a smile of 
 contemptuous indifference; for she even undervalued the personal 
 appearance of men, whom she thought arrayed in the unholy cause 
 of rebellion. Miss Peyton looked on the gallant show with an ex- 
 ulting pride, which arose in the reflection, that the warriors before 
 her were the chosen troops of her native colony; while Frances gazed 
 with a singleness of interest that absorbed all other considerations. 
 
 The two parties had not yet joined, before her quick eye distin- 
 guished one horseman in particular from those around him. To her 
 it appeared that even the steed of this youthful soldier seemed to he 
 conscious that he sustained the weight of no common man : — his 
 hoofs hut lightly touched the earth, and his airy tread was the curbed 
 motion of a blooded charger. 
 
 The dragoon sat in the saddle, with a firmness and ease that 
 showed him master of himself and horse, - — his figure uniting the 
 just proportions of strength and activity, being tall, round, and mus- 
 cular. To this officer Lawton made his report, and, side by side, 
 they rode into the field opposite to the cottage. 
 
T HE SPY. 
 
 r < y 
 
 The heart of Frances beat with a pulsation nearly stifling, as he 
 paused for a moment, and took a survey of the building, with an eye 
 whose dark and sparkling glance could be seen, notwithstanding the 
 distance : — her colour changed, and for an instant, as she saw the 
 youth throw himself from the saddle, she was compelled to seek 
 relief for her trembling limbs in a chair. 
 
 The officer gave a few hasty orders to his second in command, 
 walked rapidly into the lawn, and approached the cottage. Frances 
 rose from her seat, and vanished from the apartment. The dragoon 
 ascended the steps of the piazza, and had barely time to touch the 
 outer door, when it opened to his admission. 
 
 The youth of Frances, when she left the city, had prevented her 
 sacrificing, in conformity to the customs of that day, all her native 
 beauties on the altar of fashion. Her hair, which was of a golden 
 richness of colour, was left, un tortured, to fall in the natural ringlets 
 of infancy, and it shaded a face which was glowing with the united 
 charms of health, youth, and artlessness ; — her eyes spoke volumes, 
 but her tongue was silent ; — her hands were interlocked before her, 
 and, aided by her taper form, bending forward in an attitude of ex- 
 pectation, gave a loveliness and an interest to her appearance, that 
 for a moment chained her lover in silence to the spot. 
 
 Frances silently led the way into a vacant parlour, opposite to the 
 one in which the family were assembled, and turning to the soldier 
 frankly, placing both her hands in his own, exclaimed — 
 
 “Ah, Dunwoodie ! how happy, on many accounts, I am to see 
 you ! I have brought you in here, to prepare you to meet an unex- 
 pected friend in the opposite room.” 
 
 “ To whatever cause it may be owing,” cried the youth, pressing 
 her hands to his lips, “ I, too, am happy in being able to see you 
 alone. Frances, the probation you have decreed is cruel ; war and 
 distance may shortly separate us for ever.” 
 
 “We must submit to the necessity which governs us. But it is not 
 
80 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 iove speeches I would hear now : I have other and more important 
 matter for jour attention.” 
 
 “ What can be of more importance than to make you mine by a 
 tie that will be indissoluble ! Frances, you are cold to me — me — 
 from whose mind, days of service and nights of alarm have never 
 been able to banish your image for a single moment.” 
 
 “ Dear Dunwoodie,” said Frances, softening nearly to tears, and 
 again extending her hand to him, as the richness of her colour gra- 
 dually returned, “ you know my sentiments — this war once ended, 
 and you may take that hand for ever — but I can never consent to 
 tie myself to you by any closer union than already exists, so long as 
 you are arrayed in arms against my only brother. Even now, that 
 brother is awaiting your decision to restore him to liberty, or to con- 
 duct him to a probable death.” 
 
 “Your brother!” cried Dunwoodie, starting and turning pale; 
 “ your brother ! explain yourself — what dreadful meaning is con- 
 cealed in your words ?” 
 
 “ Has not Captain Lawton told you of the arrest of Henry by 
 himself this very morning ?” continued Frances, in a voice barely 
 audible, and fixing on her lover a look of the deepest concern. 
 
 “ He told me of arresting a captain of the 60th in disguise, but 
 without mentioning where or whom,” replied the Major in a similar 
 tone ; and dropping his head between his hands, he endeavoured to 
 conceal his feelings from his companion. 
 
 “ Dunwoodie ! Dunwoodie !” exclaimed Frances, losing all her 
 former confidence in the most fearful apprehensions, “ what means 
 this agitation ?” As the Major slowly raised his face, in which was 
 pictured the most expressive concern, she continued, “ Surely, surely, 
 you will not betray your friend — my brother — your brother — to an 
 ignominious death.” 
 
 “ Frances !” exclaimed the young man in agony, “ what can I do ? M 
 
 “ Do !” she repeated, gazing at him wildly ; “ would Major Dun- 
 
T HE S P I . 
 
 81 
 
 woodie yield his friend to his enemies — the brother of his betrothed 
 wife?” 
 
 “ Oh speak not so unkindly to me, dearest Miss Wharton - — my 
 own Frances. I would this moment die for you — for Henry — but I 
 cannot forget my duty — cannot forfeit my honour ; you yourself 
 would be the first to despise me if I did.” 
 
 “ Peyton Dunwoodie !” said Frances, solemnly, and with a face of 
 ashy paleness, “ you have told me — you have sworn, that you loved 
 me—” 
 
 u I do,” interrupted the soldier, with fervour ; — but motioning for 
 silence, she continued, in a voice that trembled with her fears — 
 u Do you think I can throw myself into the arms of a man, whose 
 hands are stained with the blood of my only brother !” 
 
 “ Frances ! you wring my very heart ;” then pausing, to struggle 
 with his feelings, he endeavoured to force a smile, as he added, “ but, 
 after all, we may be torturing ourselves with unnecessary fears, and 
 Henry, when I know the circumstances, may be nothing more than 
 a prisoner of war ; in which case, I can liberate him on parole.” 
 There is no more delusive passion than hope ; and it seems to be 
 the happy privilege of youth to cull all the pleasures that can be 
 gathered from its indulgence. It is when we are most worthy of 
 confidence ourselves, that we are least apt to distrust others ; and 
 what we think ought to be, we are prone to think will be. 
 
 The half-formed expectations of the young soldier were commu- 
 nicated to the desponding sister, more by the eye than the voice, and 
 the blood rushed again to her cheek, as she cried — 
 
 u Oh ! there can be no just grounds to doubt it : I knew — 1 
 knew — Dunwoodie, you would never desert us in the hour of our 
 greatest need !” The violence of her feelings prevailed, and the 
 agitated girl found relief in a flood of tears. 
 
 The office of consoling those we love is one of the dearest preroga- 
 tives of affection; and Major Dunwoodie, although but little encou- 
 raged by his own momentary suggestion of relief, could not unde 
 
 I * 
 
82 
 
 THE S P V . 
 
 ceive the lovely girl, who leaned on his shoulder, as he wiped the 
 traces of her feeling from her face, with a trembling, but reviving 
 confidence, in the safety of her brother, and the protection of her 
 
 lover. 
 
 Frances having sufficiently recovered her recollection to command 
 herself, now eagerly led the way into the opposite room, to commu- 
 nicate to her family the pleasing intelligence which she already con- 
 ceived so certain. 
 
 Dunwoodie followed her reluctantly, and with forebodings of the 
 result ; but, a few moments brought him into the presence of his 
 relatives, and he summoned all his resolution to meet the trial with 
 firmness. 
 
 The salutations of the young men were cordial and frank, and, 
 on the part of Henry Wharton, as collected as if nothing 
 occurred to disturb his self-possession. 
 
 The abhorrence of being, in any manner, auxiliary to the arrest 
 of his friend ; the danger to the life of Captain Wharton ; and the 
 heart-breaking declarations of Frances, had, however, created an 
 uneasiness in the bosom of Major Dunwoodie, which all his efforts 
 could not conceal. His reception by the rest of the family was kind 
 and sincere, both from old regard, and a remembrance of former 
 obligations, heightened by the anticipations they could not fail to 
 read in the expressive eyes of the blushing girl by his side. After 
 exchanging greetings with every member of the family, Major Dun- 
 woodie beckoned to the sentinel, whom the wary prudence of Cap- 
 tain Lawton had left in charge of the prisoner, to leave the room. 
 Turning to Captain Wharton, he enquired mildly — 
 
 “ Tell me, Henry, the circumstances of this disguise, in which 
 Captain Lawton reports you to have been found, and remember — 
 remember — Captain Wharton — your answers are entirely volun- 
 tary.^ 
 
 u The disguise was used by me, Major Dunwoodie/’ replied the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 83 
 
 English officer, gravely, “ to enable me to visit my friends, without 
 incurring the danger of becoming a prisoner of war.” 
 
 u But you did not wear it, until you saw the troop of Lawton 
 approaching ?” 
 
 u Oh ! no,” interrupted Frances, eagerly, forgetting all the cir- 
 cumstances in her anxiety for her brother; “ Sarah and myself 
 placed them on him when the dragoons appeared ; it was our awk- 
 wardness that led to the discovery.” 
 
 The countenance of Dunwoodie brightened, as, turning his eye* 
 in fondness on the speaker, he listened to her explanation. 
 
 u Probably some articles of your own,” he continued, “ which 
 were at hand, and were us<>d on the spur of the moment.” 
 
 u No,” said Wharton, with dignity ; “ the clothes were worn by 
 me from the city ; they were procured for the purpose to which they 
 were applied, and I intended to use them in my return this very 
 day.” 
 
 The appalled Frances shrunk back from between her brother and 
 lover, where her ardent feelings had carried her, as the whole truth 
 glanced over her mind, and she sunk into a seat, gazing wildly on 
 the young men. 
 
 “ But the pickets — the party at the Plains ?” added Dunwoodie, 
 turning pale. 
 
 “ I passed them, too, in disguise. I made use of this pass, for 
 which I paid ; and, as it bears the name of Washington, 1 presume 
 it is forged.” 
 
 Dunwoodie caught the paper from his hand, eagerly, and stood 
 gazing on the signature for some time in silence, during which the 
 soldier gradually prevailed over the man ; when he turned to the 
 prisoner, with a searching look, as he asked — 
 
 u Captain Wharton, whence did you procure this paper?” 
 u That is a question, I conceive, Major Dunwoodie has no right 
 to ask.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 84 
 
 “ Your pardou, sir; my feelings may have led me into an in pin- 
 priety 
 
 Mr. Wharton, who had been a deeply interested auditor, now so 
 far conquered his feelings as to say, “ Surely, Major Dunwoodie, tl.e 
 paper cannot be material ; such artifices are used daily in war.” 
 
 “ This name is no counterfeit,” said the dragoon, studying the 
 characters, and speaking in a low voice : u is treason yet among us 
 undiscovered ? The confidence of Washington has been abused, foi 
 the fictitious name is in a different hand from the pass. Captain 
 Wharton, my duty will not suffer me to grant you a parole : you 
 must accompany me to the Highlands.” 
 
 “ I did not expect otherwise, Major Dunwoodie.” 
 
 Dunwoodie turned slowly towards the sisters, when the figure of 
 Frances once more arrested his gaze. She had risen from her seat, 
 and stood again with her hands clasped before him in an attitude of 
 petition : feeling himself unable to contend longer with his feelings, 
 he made a hurried excuse for a temporary absence, and left the room. 
 Frances followed him, and, obedient to the direction of her eye, the 
 soldier re-entered the apartment in which had been their first inter- 
 view. 
 
 u Major Dunwoodie,” said Frances, in a voice barely audible, as 
 she beckoned to him to be seated ; her cheek, which had been of a 
 chilling whiteness, was flushed with a suffusion that crimsoned her 
 whole countenance ; she struggled with herself for a moment, and 
 continued — u I have already acknowledged to you my esteem ; even 
 now, when you most painfully distress me, I wish not to conceal it. 
 Believe me, Henry is innocent of everything but imprudence. Our 
 country can sustain no wrong.” Again she paused, and almost 
 gasped for breath ; her colour changed rapidly from red to white, 
 until the blood rushed into her face, covering her features with the 
 brightest vermilion ; and she added hastily, in an under tone, “ 1 
 have promised, Dunwoodie, when peace shall be restored to oui 
 country, to become your wife; give to my brother his liberty on 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 85 
 
 parole, and I will this day go with you to the altar, folio vv you to 
 the camp, and, in becoming a soldier’s bride, learn to endure a sob 
 dier’s privations.” 
 
 Dunwoodie seized the hand which the blushing girl, in her ar- 
 dour, had extended towards him, and pressed it for a moment to his 
 bosom ; then rising from his seat, he paced the room in excessive 
 agitation. 
 
 u Frances, say no more, I conjure you, unless you wish to break 
 my heart.” 
 
 “ You then reject my offered hand ?” she said, rising with dig- 
 nity, though her pale cheek and quivering lip plainly showed the 
 conflicting passions within. 
 
 u Reject it ! Have I not sought it with entreaties — with tears ? 
 Has it not been the goal of all my earthly wishes? But to take it 
 under such conditions would be to dishonour both. We will hope 
 for better things. Henry must be acquitted; perhaps not tried. 
 No intercession of mine shall be wanting, you must well know; and 
 believe me, Frances, I am not without favour with Washington.” 
 
 u That very paper, that abuse of his confidence, to which you al- 
 luded, will steel him to my brother’s case. If threats or entreaties 
 could move his stern sense of justice, would Andre have suffered ?” 
 As Frances uttered these words, she fled from the room in despair. 
 
 Dunwoodie remained for a minute nearly stupified ; and then he 
 followed with a view to vindicate himself, and to relieve her appre- 
 hensions. On entering the hall that divided the two parlours, he 
 was met by a small ragged boy, who looked one moment at his dress, 
 and placing a piece of paper in his hands, immediately vanished 
 through the outer door of the building. The bewildered state of 
 his mind, and the suddennes_s of the occurrence, gave the Major 
 barely time to observe the messenger to be a country lad, meanly 
 attired, and that he held in his hand one of those toys which are to 
 be bought in cities, and which he now apparently contemplated with 
 the conscious pleasure of having fairly purchased, by the perforin- 
 
86 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Hi:ce of the service required. The soldier turned his eyes to tlx? 
 subject of the note. It was written on a piece of torn and soiled 
 paper, and in a hand barely legible ; but, after some little labour, 
 he was able to make out as follows : — 
 
 w The rigHars are at hand , horse and foot.”* 
 
 * There died a few years since, in Bedford, West Chester, a yeoman 
 
 named Elisha H . This person was employed by Washington as one of 
 
 his most confidential spies. By the conditions of their bargain, H was 
 
 never to be required to deal with third parties, since his risks were too immi- 
 nent. He was allowed to enter also into the service of Sir Henry Clinton ; 
 and so much confidence had Washington in his love of country and discie- 
 tion, that he was often intrusted with the minor military movements, in order 
 that he might enhance his value with the English general, by communicat- 
 ing them. In this manner, H had continued to serve for a long period, 
 
 when chance brought him into the city (then held by the British) at a mo- 
 ment when an expedition was about to quit it, to go against a small post 
 established at Bedford, his native village, where the Americans had a depot 
 of provisions. H easily ascertained the force and destination of the de- 
 
 tachment ordered on this service, but he was at a loss in what manner to 
 communicate his information to the officer in command at Bedford, without 
 betraying his own true character to a third person. There was not time to 
 reach Washington, and under the circumstances, he finally resolved to hazard 
 a short note to the American commandant, stating the danger, and naming 
 the time when the attack might be expected. To this note he even ventured 
 to affix his own initials E. H., though he had disguised the hand, under a 
 belief that, as he knew himself to be suspected by his countrymen, it might 
 serve to give more weight to his warning. His family being at Bedford, the 
 
 note was transmitted with facility, and arrived in good season, H him 
 
 self remaining in New York. 
 
 The American commandant did what every sensible officer, in a similar 
 case, would have done. He sent a courier with the note to Washington, de- 
 manding orders, while he prepared his little party to make the best defence 
 in his power. 
 
 The head-quarters of the American army were, at that time, in the High- 
 lands. Fortunately, the express met Washington, on a tour of observation 
 near their entrance. The note was given to him, and he read it in the sad- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 87 
 
 Uunwoodie started ; and, forgetting every thing but the duties of 
 * soldier, he precipitately left the house. While walking rapidly 
 towards the troops, he noticed on a distant hill a vidette riding with 
 speed : several pistols were fired in quick succession ; and the next 
 instant the trumpets of the corps rang in his ears with the enlivening 
 strain of “ To arms !” By the time he had reached the ground oc- 
 cupied by his squadron, the Major saw that every man was in active 
 motion. Lawton was already in the saddle, eyeing the opposite 
 extremity of the valley with the eagerness of expectation, and crying 
 to the musicians, in tones but little lower than their own — 
 
 u Sound away, my lads, and let these Englishmen know, that the 
 Virginia horse are between them and the end of their journey.” 
 
 The videttes and patrols now came pouring in, each making in 
 succession his hasty report to the commanding officer, who gave his 
 orders coolly, and with a prompitude that made obedience certain. 
 Once only, as he wheeled his horse to ride over the ground in front, 
 did Dunwoodie trust himself with a look at the cottage, and his heart 
 beat with unusual rapidity as he saw a female figure standing, with 
 clasped hands, at a window of the room in which he had met Fran- 
 
 dle ; adding, in pencil, “ Believe all that E. H. tells you. George Washing, 
 ton.” He returned it to the courier, with an injunction to ride for life or 
 death. 
 
 The courier reached Bedford after the British had made their attack. 
 The commandant read the reply, and put it in his pocket. The Americans 
 
 were defeated, and their leader killed. The note of H , with the line 
 
 written on it by Washington, was found on his person. 
 
 The following day H was summoned to the presence of Sir Henry 
 
 Clinton. After the latter had put several general questions, he suddenly gave 
 the note to the spy, and asked if he knew the hand-writing, and demanding 
 who the E. H. was. “It is Elijah Hadden, the spy you hanged yesterday, 
 at Powles Hook.” The readiness of this answer, connected with the fact 
 that a spy having the same initials had been executed the day before, and 
 
 the coolness of H , saved him. Sir Henry Clinton allowed him to quit 
 
 his presence, and he never saw him afterwards. 
 
88 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 ces, The distance was too great to distinguish her features, but the 
 soldier could not doubt that it was his mistress. The paleness of 
 his cheek and the languor of his eye endured but for a moment 
 longer. As he rode towards the intended battle-ground, a flush of 
 ardour began to show itself on his sun-burnt features ; and his dra- 
 goons, who studied the face of their leader, as the best index to theii 
 own fate, saw again the wonted flashing of the eyes, and the cheerful 
 animation, which they had so often witnessed on the eve of battle. 
 By the additions of the videttes and parties that had been out, and 
 which now had all joined, the whole number of the horse was in- 
 creased to nearly two hundred. There was also a small body of 
 men, whose ordinary duties were those of guides, but who, in cases 
 of emergency, were embodied and did duty as foot-soldiers; these 
 were dismounted, and proceeded, by the order of Bunwoodie, to level 
 the few fences which might interfere with the intended movements 
 of the cavalry. The neglect of husbandry, which had been occa- 
 sioned by the war, left this task comparatively easy. Those long 
 lines of heavy and durable walls, which now sweep through every 
 part of the country, forty years ago were unknown. The slight and 
 tottering fences of stone were then used more to clear the land for 
 the purposes of cultivation than as permanent barriers, and required 
 the constant attention of the husbandman, to preserve them against 
 the fury of the tempests and the frosts of winter. Some few of them 
 had been built with more care immediately around the dwelling of 
 Mr. Wharton ; but those which had intersected the vale below were 
 now generally a pile of ruins, over which the horses of the Virgini- 
 ans would bound with the fleetness of the wind. Occasionally a 
 short line yet preserved its erect appearance ; but as none of these 
 crossed the ground on which Bunwoodie intended to act, there re- 
 mained only the slighter fences of rails to be thrown down. Their 
 duty was hastily, but effectually, performed ; and the guides with- 
 drew to the post assigned to them for the approaching fight. 
 
 Major Bunwoodie had received from his scouts all the intelligence 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 89 
 
 concerning his foe, which was necessary to enable him to make his 
 arrangements. The bottom of the valley was an even plain, that 
 fell with a slight inclination from the foot of the hills on either side, 
 to the level of a natural meadow that wound through the country 
 on the banks of a small stream, by whose waters it was often ilium 
 dated and fertilised. This brook was easily forded in any part of 
 its course ; and the only impediment it offered to the movements of 
 the horse, was in a place where it changed its bed from the western 
 to the eastern side of the valley, and where its banks were more 
 steep and difficult of access than common. Here the highway crossed 
 it by a rough wooden bridge, as it did again at the distance of half 
 a mile above the Locusts. 
 
 The hills on the eastern side of the valley were abrupt, and fre- 
 quently obtruded themselves in rocky prominences into its bosom, 
 lessening the width to half the usual dimensions. One of these 
 projections was but a short distance in the rear of the squadron of 
 dragoons, and Dunwoodie directed Captain Lawton to withdraw, with 
 two troops, behind its cover. The officer obeyed with a kind of 
 surly reluctance, that was, however, somewhat lessened by the anti- 
 cipations of the effect his sudden appearance would make on the 
 enemy. Dunwoodie knew his man, and had selected the captain for 
 this service, both because he feared his precipitation in the held, and 
 knew, when needed, his support would never fail to appear. It was 
 only in front of the enemy that Captain Lawton was hasty ; at all 
 other times his discernment and self-possession were consummately 
 preserved ) but he sometimes forgot them in his eagerness to engage. 
 On the left of the ground on which Dunwoodie intended to meet 
 his foe, was a close wood, which skirted that side of the .valley for 
 the distance of a mile. Into this, then, the guides retired, and took 
 their station near its edge, in such a manner as would enable them 
 to maintain a scattering, but effectual fire, on the advancing column 
 of the enemy. 
 
 It cannot be supposed that all these preparations were made un- 
 
90 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 heeded by the inmates of the cottage ; on the contrary, every feeling 
 which can agitate the human breast, in witnessing such a scene, was 
 actively alive. Mr. Wharton alone saw no hopes to himself in the 
 termination of the conflict. If the British should prevail, his son 
 would be liberated ; but what would then be his own fate ! He had 
 hitherto preserved his neutral character in the midst of trying cir- 
 cumstances. The fact of his having a son in the royal, or, as it was 
 called, the regular army, had very nearly brought his estates to the 
 hammer. Nothing had obviated this result, but the powerful inte- 
 rest of the relation, who held a high political rank in the state, and 
 his own vigilant prudence. In his heart, he was a devoted loyalist ; 
 and when the blushing Frances had communicated to him the wishes 
 of her lover, on their return from the American camp the preceding 
 spring, the consent he had given, to her future union with a rebel, 
 was as much extracted by the increasing necessity which existed for 
 his obtaining republican support, as by any considerations for the 
 happiness of his child. Should his son now be rescued, he would, 
 in the public mind, be united with him as a 'plotter against the free- 
 dom of the States ; and should he remain a captive, and undergo the 
 impending trial, the consequences might be still more dreadful. 
 Much as he loved his wealth, Mr. Wharton loved his children bet- 
 ter; and he sat gazing on the movements without, with a listless 
 vacancy in his countenance, that fully denoted his imbecility of 
 character. 
 
 Far different were the feelings of the son. Captain Wharton had 
 been left in the keeping of two dragoons ; one of whom marched to 
 and fro on the piazza with a measured tread, and the other had been 
 directed to continue in the same apartment with his prisoner. The 
 young man had witnessed all the movements of Dunwoodie with 
 admiration mingled with fearful anticipations of the consequences to 
 his friends. He particularly disliked the ambush of the detachment 
 under Lawton, who could be distinctly seen from the windows of 
 the cottage, cooling his impatience, by pacing on foot the ground in 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 91 
 
 front of his men. Henry Wharton threw several hasty and enquir 
 ing glances around, to see if no means of liberation would offer, bui 
 invariably found the eyes of his sentinel fixed on him with the 
 watchfulness of an Argus. He longed, with the ardour of youth, 
 to join in the glorious fray, but was compelled to remain a dissatis- 
 fied spectator of a scene in which he would so cheerfully have been 
 an actor. Miss Peyton and Sarah continued gazing on the prepara- 
 tions with varied emotions, in which concern for the fate of the Cap- 
 tain formed the most prominent feeling, until the moment the shed- 
 ding of blood seemed approaching, when, with the timidity of their 
 sex, they sought the retirement of an inner room. Not so Frances : 
 she returned to the apartment where she had left Dunwoodie, and, 
 from one of its windows, had been a deeply interested spectator of 
 all his movements. The wheelings of the troops, the deadly prepa- 
 rations, had all been unnoticed ; she saw her lover only, and with 
 mingled emotions of admiration and dread that nearly chilled her. 
 At one moment the blood rushed to her heart, as she saw the young 
 warrior riding through his ranks, giving life and courage to all whom 
 he addressed ; and the next, it curdled with the thought, that the 
 very gallantry she so much valued might prove the means of placing 
 the grave between her and the object of her regard. Frances gazed 
 until she could look no longer. 
 
 In a field on the left of the cottage, and at a short distance in the 
 rear of the troops, was a small group, whose occupation seemed to 
 differ from that of all around them. They were in number only 
 three, being two men and a mulatto boy. The principal personage 
 of this party was a man, whose leanness made his really tall stature 
 appear excessive. He wore spectacles — was unarmed, had dis- 
 mounted, and seemed to be dividing his attention between a segar, a 
 book, and the incidents of the field before him. To this party 
 Frances determined to send a note, directed to Dunwoodie. She 
 wrote hastily, with a pencil, u Come to me , Peyton , if it be but for 
 a moment and Caesar emerged from the cellar kitchen, taking the 
 
92 
 
 THE S P y . 
 
 precaution to go by tbe rear of the building, to avoid the sentinel oi 
 the piazza, who had very cavalierly ordered all the family to remain 
 housed. The black delivered the note to the gentleman, with a 
 request that it might be forwarded to Major Dunwoodie. It was the 
 surgeon of the horse to whom Caesar addressed himself; and the 
 teeth of the African chattered, as he saw displayed upon the ground 
 the several instruments which were in preparation for the anticipated 
 operations. The doctor himself seemed to view the arrangement 
 with great satisfaction, as he deliberately raised his eyes from his 
 book to order the boy to convey the note to his commanding officer, 
 and then dropping them quietly on the page, he continued his occu- 
 pation. Caesar was slowly retiring, as the third personage, who by 
 his dress might be an inferior assistant of the surgical department, 
 coolly enquired “if he would have a leg taken off ?" This question 
 seemed to remind the black of the existence of those limbs; for he 
 made such use of them as to reach the piazza at the same instant 
 that Major Dunwoodie rode up, at half speed. The brawny sentinel 
 squared himself, and poised his sword with military precision, as he 
 stood on his post, while his officer passed; but no sooner had the 
 door closed, than, turning to the negro, he said, sharply — 
 
 “ Harkee, blackey, if you quit the house again without my know- 
 ledge, I shall turn barber, and shave off one of those ebony ears 
 with this razor." 
 
 Thus assailed in another member, Caesar hastily retreated into his 
 kitchen, muttering something, in which the words “ Skinner, and 
 rebel rascal/' formed a principal part of his speech. 
 
 “ Major Dunwoodie/' said Frances to her lover as he entered, “ I 
 may have done you injustice; if I have appeared harsh — " 
 
 The emotions of the agitated girl prevailed, and she burst into 
 tears. 
 
 “ Frances/' cried the soldier with warmth, “you are never harsh, 
 never unjust, but when you doubt my love." 
 
 “Ah! Dunwoodie," added the sobbing girl, “you are about to 
 
T II E SPY. 
 
 93 
 
 risk your life in battle ) remember that there is one heart whose 
 happiness is built on your safety • brave I know you are ; be pru- 
 dent— ■ ” 
 
 u For your sake V’ enquired the delighted youth. 
 
 u For my sake,” replied Frances, in a voice barely audible, and 
 dropping on his bosom. 
 
 DunwOodie folded her to his heart, and was about to speak, as a 
 trumpet sounded in the southern end of the vale. Imprinting one 
 long kiss of affection on her unresisting lips, the soldier tore himself 
 from his mistress, and hastened to the scene of strife. 
 
 Frances threw herself on a sofa, buried her head under its cushion, 
 and with her shawl drawn over her face, to exclude as much of sound 
 as possible, continued there until the shouts of the combatants, the 
 rattling of the fire-arms, and the thundering tread of the horses, had 
 ceased. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The game ’s afoot ; 
 
 Follow your spirit. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The rough and unimproved face of the country, the frequency of 
 covers, together with the great distance from their own country, and 
 the facilities afforded them for rapid movements to the different 
 points of the war, by the undisputed command of the ocean, had 
 united to deter the English from employing a heavy force in cavalry, 
 in their early efforts to subdue the revolted colonies. 
 
 Only one regiment of regular horse was sent from the mother 
 country, during the struggle. But legions and independent corps 
 were formed in different places, as it best accorded with the views 
 of the royal commanders, or suited the exigency of the times. These 
 were not unfrequently composed of men raised in the colonies, and 
 at other times drafts were had from the regiments of the line, and 
 the soldier was made to lay aside the musket and bayonet, and taught 
 to wield the sabre and carabine. One particular body of the subsi- 
 diary troops was included in this arrangement, and the Hessian 
 yagers were transformed into a corps of heavy and inactive horse. 
 
 Opposed to them were the hardiest spirits of America. Most of 
 the cavalry regiments of the continental army were led and officered 
 by gentlemen from the south. The high and haughty courage of 
 the commanders had communicated itself to the privates, who were 
 men selected with care and great attention to the service they were 
 intended to perform. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 95 
 
 While the British were confined to their empty conquests in the 
 possession of a few of the larger towns, or marched through countie a 
 that were swept of every thing like military supplies, the light troops 
 of their enemies had the range of the whole interior. 
 
 The sufferings of the line of the American army were great be- 
 yond example ; but possessing the power, and feeling themselves 
 engaged in a cause which justified severity, the cavalry officers were 
 vigilant in providing for their wants, and the horse were well 
 mounted, well fed, and consequently eminently effective. Perhaps 
 the world could not furnish more brave, enterprising, and resistless 
 corps of light cavalry, than a few that were in the continental service 
 at the time of which we write. 
 
 Dunwoodie’s men had often tried their prowess against the enemy, 
 and they now sat panting to be led once more against foes whom 
 they seldom charged in vain. Their wishes were soon to be gratified ; 
 for their commander had scarcely time to regain his seat in the sad- 
 dle, before a body of the enemy came sweeping round the base of 
 the hill, which intersected the view to the south. A few minutes 
 enabled the Major to distinguish their character. In one troop he 
 saw the green coats of the Cow-Boys, and in the other the leathern 
 helmets and wooden saddles of the yagers. Their numbers were 
 about equal to the body under his immediate orders. 
 
 On reaching the open space near the cottage of Harvey Birch, 
 the enemy halted and drew up his men in line, evidently making 
 preparations for a charge. At this moment a column of foot ap- 
 peared in the vale, and pressed forward to the bank of the brook we 
 have already mentioned. 
 
 Major Dunwoodie was not less distinguished by coolness and 
 judgment, than, where occasion offered, by his dauntless intrepidity. 
 He at once saw his advantage, and determined to profit by it. The 
 column he led began slowly to retire from the field, when the youth- 
 ful German, who commanded the enemy’s horse, fearful of missing 
 an easy conquest, gave the word to charge. Few troops were more 
 
96 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 hardy than the Cow-Boys ; they sprang eagerly forward in the pur- 
 suit., with a confidence created by the retiring foe and the column in 
 their rear; the Hessians followed more slowly, but in better order 
 The trumpets of the Virginians now sounded long and lively; they 
 were answered by a strain from the party in ambush that went to 
 the hearts of their enemies. The column of Dunwoodie wheeled in 
 perfect order, opened, and, as the word to charge was given, the 
 troops of Lawton emerged from their cover, with their leader in ad- 
 vance, waving his sabre over his head, and shouting, in a voice that 
 was heard above the clangour of the martial music. 
 
 The charge threatened too much for the refugee troop. They 
 scattered in every direction, flying from the field as fast as their 
 horses, the chosen beasts of West-Chester, could carry them. Only 
 a few were hurt : but such as did meet the arms of their avenging 
 countrymen never survived the blow, to tell who struck it. It was 
 upon the poor vassals of the German tyrant that the shock fell. 
 Disciplined to the most exact obedience, these ill-fated men met the 
 charge bravely, but they were swept before the mettled horses and 
 nervous arms of their antagonists like chaff before the wind. Many 
 of them were literally ridden down, and Dunwoodie soon saw the 
 field without an opposing foe. The proximity of the infantry pre- 
 vented pursuit, and behind its column the few Hessians who escaped 
 unhurt sought protection. 
 
 The more cunning refugees dispersed in small bands, taking va- 
 rious and devious routes back to their old station in front of Harlaem. 
 Many was the sufferer, in cattle, furniture, and person, that was 
 created by this rout ; for the dispersion of a troop of Cow-Boys was 
 only the extension of an evil. 
 
 Such a scene could not be expected to be acted so near them, 
 and the inmates of the cottage take no interest in the result. In 
 truth, the feelings it excited pervaded every bosom, from the kitchen 
 to the parlour. Terror and horror had prevented the ladies from 
 being spectators, but they did not feel the less. Frances continued 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 9Y 
 
 lying in the posture we have mentioned, offering up fervent and ir> 
 coherent petitions for the safety of her countrymen, although in hex 
 inmost heart she had personified her nation by the graceful image ot 
 Peyton Hunwoodie. Her aunt and sister were less exclusive in theii 
 devotions ; but Sarah began to feel, as the horrors of war were thus 
 brought home to her senses, less pleasure in her anticipated triumphs. 
 
 The inmates of Mr. Wharton’s kitchen were four — namely, Caesai 
 and his spouse, their grand-daughter, a jet-black damsel of twenty, 
 and the boy before alluded to. The blacks were the remnants of a 
 race of negroes which had been entailed on his estate from Mr. 
 Wharton’s maternal ancestors, who were descended from the early 
 Hutch colonists. Time, depravity, and death had reduced them tc 
 this small number ; and the boy, who was white, had been added by 
 Miss Peyton to the establishment, as an assistant, to perform the 
 ordinary services of a footman. Caesar, after first using the precau- 
 tion to place himself under the cover of an angle in the wall, for a 
 screen against any roving bullet which might be traversing the air, 
 became an amused spectator of the skirmish. The sentinel on the 
 piazza was at the distance of but a few feet from him, and he entered 
 into the spirit of the chase with all the ardour of a tried blood-hound : 
 he noticed the approach of the black, and his judicious position, with 
 a smile of contempt, as he squared himself towards the enemy, offer- 
 ing his unprotected breast to any dangers which might come. 
 
 After considering the arrangement of Caesar, for a moment, with 
 ineffable disdain, the dragoon said, with great coolness — 
 
 u You seem very careful of that beautiful person of yours, Mr. 
 Blueskin .” 
 
 “A bullet hurt a coloured man as much as a white,” muttered the 
 black, surlily, casting a glance of much satisfaction at his rampart. 
 
 u Suppose I make the experiment,” returned the sentinel : as he 
 spoke, he deliberately drew a pistol from his belt, and levelled it at 
 the black. Caesar’s teeth chattered at the appearance of the dragoon, 
 although he believed nothing serious was intended. At this moment 
 
 5 
 
98 
 
 THE STY, 
 
 the column of Dunwoodie began to retire, and the royal cavalry 
 commenced their charge. 
 
 “ There, Mister Light-Horseman,” said Caesar eagerly, who be* 
 lieved the Americans were retiring in earnest; u why you rebels 
 don’t fight — see — see how King George’s men make Major Dun* 
 woodie run ! Good gentleman, too, but he don’t like to fight a rig’lar.” 
 
 u Damn your regulars,” cried the other, fiercely : u wait a minute, 
 blackey, and you’ll see Captain Jack Lawton come out from behind 
 yonder hill, and scatter these Cow-Boys like wild geese who’ve lost 
 their leader.” 
 
 Caesar supposed the party under Lawton to have sought the 
 shelter of the hill from motives similar to that which had induced 
 him to place the wall between himself and the battle-ground ; but 
 the fact soon verified the trooper’s prophecy, and the black wit- 
 nessed with consternation the total rout of the royal horse. 
 
 The sentinel manifested his exultation at the success of his com- 
 rades with loud shouts, which soon brought his companion, who had 
 been left in the more immediate charge of Henry Wharton, to the 
 open window of the parlour. 
 
 u See, Tom, see,” cried the delighted trooper, “ how Captain 
 Lawton makes that Hessian’s leather cap fly; and now the Major 
 has killed the officer’s horse — zounds, why didn’t he kill the 
 Dutchman, and save the horse?” 
 
 A few pistols were discharged at the flying Cow-Boys, and a spent 
 bullet broke a pane of glass within a few feet of Caesar. Imitating 
 the posture of the great tempter of our race, the black sought the 
 protection of the inside of the building, and immediately ascended 
 to the parlour. 
 
 The lawn in front of the Locusts was hidden from the view of the 
 road by a close line of shrubbery, and the horses of the two dragoons 
 had been left, linked together, under its shelter to await the move- 
 ments of their masters. 
 
 At this moment two Cow-Boys, who had been cut oft’ from a 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 99 
 
 retreat to their own party/ rode furiously through the gate, with 
 an intention of escaping to the open wood in the rear of the cottage. 
 
 The victorious Americans pressed the retreating Germans until 
 they had driven them under the protection of the fire of the 
 infantry; and feeling themselves, in the privacy of the lawn, 
 relieved from any immediate danger, the predatory warriors yielded 
 to a temptation that few of the corps were ever known to resist — 
 opportunity and horseflesh. With a hardihood and presence of 
 mind that could only exist from long practice in similar scenes, 
 they made towards their intended prizes, by an almost spontaneous 
 movement. They were busily engaged in separating the fastenings 
 of the horses, when the trooper on the piazza discharged his pistols, 
 and rushed, sword in hand, to the rescue. 
 
 The entrance of Caesar into the parlour had induced the wary 
 dragoon within, to turn his attention more closely on his prisoner ; 
 but this new interruption drew him again to the window. He threw 
 his body out of the building, and with dreadful imprecations endear 
 voured, by his threats and appearance, to frighten the marauders 
 from their prey. The moment was enticing. Three hundred 
 of his comrades were within a mile of the cottage ; unridden horses 
 were running at large in every direction, and Henry Wharton 
 seized the unconscious sentinel by his legs, and threw him headlong 
 into the lawn. — Caesar vanished from the room, and drew a bolt 
 of the outer door. 
 
 The fall of the soldier was not great, and recovering his feet, he 
 turned his fury for a moment on his prisoner. To scale the window 
 in the face of such an enemy, was, however, impossible, and on trial 
 he found the main entrance barred. 
 
 His comrade now called loudly upon him for aid, and forgetful 
 of every thing else, the discomfited trooper rushed to his assistance. 
 One horse was instantly liberated, but the other was already 
 fastened to the saddle of a Cow-Boy, and the four retired behind 
 the building, cutting furiously at each other with their sabres, and 
 
100 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 making the air resound with their imprecations. Crnsar threw the 
 outer door open, and pointing to the remaining horse, that was 
 quietly biting the faded herbage of the lawn, he exclaimed — 
 
 “ Run — now — run — Massa Harry, run.” 
 
 “Yes,” cried the youth as he vaulted into the saddle, “now, 
 indeed, my honest fellow, is the time to run.” He beckoned 
 hastily to his father, who stood at the window in speechless anxiety, 
 with his hands extended towards his child in the attitude of bene- 
 diction, and adding, “ God bless you, Caesar, salute the girls,” 
 he dashed through the gate, with the rapidity of lightning. 
 
 The African watched him with anxiety as he gained the highway, 
 saw him incline to the right, and riding furiously under the brow of 
 some rocks, which on that side rose perpendicularly, disappear be- 
 hind a projection, which soon hid him from view. 
 
 The delighted Caesar closed the door, pushing bolt after bolt, and 
 turning the key until it would turn no more, soliloquising the whole 
 time on the happy escape of his young master. 
 
 “How well he ride — teach him good deal myself — salute a young 
 lady — Miss Fanny wouldn’t let old coloured man kiss a red cheek.” 
 When the fortune of the day was decided, and the time arrived 
 for the burial of the dead, two Cow-Boys and a Virginian were found 
 in the rear of the Locusts, to be included in the number. 
 
 Happily for Henry Wharton, the searching eyes of his captor 
 were examining, through a pocket-glass, the column of infantry that 
 still held its position on the bank of the stream, while the remnants 
 of the Hessian yagers were seeking its friendly protection. His 
 horse was of the best blood of Virginia, and carried him with the 
 swiftness of the wind along the valley; and the heart of the youth 
 was already beating tumultuously with pleasure at his deliverance 
 when a well-known voice reached his startled ear, crying aloud — 
 
 “ Bravely done, Captain ! Don’t spare the whip, and turn to 
 your left before you cross the brook.” 
 
 Wharton turned his head in surprise, and saw, sitting on the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 lOl 
 
 point of a jutting rock that commanded a bird’s e} e view of the val- 
 ley, his former guide, Harvey Birch. His pack, much diminished 
 in size, lay at the feet of the pedler, who waved his hat to the youth, 
 exultingly, as the latter flew by him. The English captain took the 
 advice of this mysterious being, and finding a good road, which led 
 to the highway that intersected the valley, turned down its direction, 
 and was soon opposite to his friends. The next minute he crossed 
 the bridge, and stopped his charger before his old acquaintance, 
 Colonel Wellmere. 
 
 u Captain Wharton !” exclaimed the astonished commander of the 
 English troops, u dressed in mohair, and mounted on a rebel dragooD 
 horse ! are you from the clouds in this attire, and in such a style V 9 
 u Thank God !” cried the youth, recovering his breath, “ I am 
 safe, and have escaped from the hands of my enemies; but five 
 minutes since and I was a prisoner, and threatened with the gallows.” 
 66 The gallows, Captain Wharton ! surely those traitors to the 
 king would never dare to commit another murder in cold blood ; is 
 it not enough that they took the life of Andre ? wherefore did they 
 threaten you with a similar fate ?” 
 
 “ Under the pretence of a similar offence,” said the captain, briefly 
 explaining to the group of listeners the manner of his capture, the 
 grounds of his personal apprehensions, and the method of his escape. 
 By the time he had concluded his narration, the fugitive Germans 
 were collected in the rear of the column of infantry, and Colonel 
 Wellmere cried aloud — 
 
 u From my soul I congratulate you, my brave friend ; mercy is a 
 quality with which these traitors are unacquainted, and you are 
 doubly fortunate in escaping from their hands uninjured. Prepare 
 yourself to grant me your assistance, and I will soon afford you a 
 noble revenge.” 
 
 u I do not think there was danger of personal outrage to any man, 
 Colonel Wellmere, from a party that Major Dunwoodie commands,” 
 returned young Wharton, with a slight glow on his face : “ his clia- 
 
102 
 
 T PI E SPY. 
 
 racter is above the imputation of such an offence ; neither do I tiiink 
 it altogether prudent to cross this brook into the open plain, in the 
 face of those Virginian horse, flushed as they must be with the sue 
 cess they have just obtained/’ 
 
 “ Do you call the rout of those irregulars and these sluggish Hes- 
 sians a deed to boast of?” said the other with a contemptuous smile : 
 “you speak of the affair, Captain Wharton, as if your boasted Mr. 
 Dunwoodie, for Major he is none, had discomfited the body guards 
 of your king.” 
 
 “And I must be allowed to say, Colonel Wellmere, that if the 
 body guards of my king were in yon field, they would meet a foe 
 that it would be dangerous to despise. Sir, my boasted Mr. Dun- 
 woodie is the pride of Washington’s army as a cavalry officer,” cried 
 Henry, with warmth. 
 
 “ Dunwoodie — Dunwoodie 1” repeated the Colonel slowly ; “surely 
 I have met the gentleman before.” 
 
 “ I have been told you once saw him for a moment, at the town 
 residence of my sisters,” replied Wharton, with a lurking smile. 
 
 “ Ah ! I do remember me of such a youth ; and does the most 
 potent congress of these rebellious colonies intrust their soldiers to 
 the leading of such a warrior !” 
 
 “Ask the commander of yon Hessian horse, whether he thinks 
 Major Dunwoodie worthy of the confidence.” 
 
 Colonel Wellmere was far from wanting that kind of pride which 
 makes a man bear himself bravely in the presence of his enemies 
 He had served in America a long time, without ever meeting with 
 any but new raised levies, or the militia of the country. These 
 would sometimes fight, and that fearlessly, but they as often chose 
 to run away without pulling a trigger. He was too apt to judge 
 from externals, and thought it impossible for men whose gaiters 
 were so clean, whose tread so regular, and who wheeled with 
 so much accuracy, to be beaten. In addition to all these, they 
 were Englishmen, and their success was certain. Colonel Wellmere 
 
T UK S V Y . 
 
 103 
 
 had never been kept much in the field, or these notions, which he 
 had brought with him from home, and which had been greatly 
 increased by the vapouring of a garrisoned town, would have long 
 since vanished. He listened to the warm reply of Captain Wharton 
 with a supercilious smile, and then enquired — 
 
 “ You would not have us retire, sir, before these boasted horse- 
 men, without doing something that may deprive them of part of the 
 glory which you appear to think they have gained ?” 
 
 “I would have you advised, Colonel Wellmere, of the danger you 
 are about to encounter.” 
 
 “ Danger is but an unseemly word for a soldier,” continued the 
 British commander with a sneer. 
 
 “ And one as little dreaded by the 60th as any corps who weai 
 the royal livery,” cried Henry Wharton, fiercely ; “ give but the 
 word to charge, and let our actions speak.” 
 
 “Now again I know my young friend,” said Wellmere, sooth- 
 ingly ; “ but if you have any thing to say before we fight, that can 
 in any manner help us in our attack, we T1 listen. You know the 
 force of the rebels : are there more of them in ambush ?” 
 
 “Yes,” replied the youth, chafing still with the other's sneers, 
 “ in tha skirt of this wood on our right are a small party of foot : 
 their horse are all before you.” 
 
 “Where they will not continue long,” cried Wellmere, turning 
 to the few officers around him. “Gentlemen, we will cross the 
 stream in column, and display on the plain beyond, or else we shall 
 not be able to entice these valiant Yankees within the reach of our 
 muskets. Captain Wharton, I claim your assistance as an aide- 
 de-camp.” 
 
 The youth shook his head in disapprobation of a movement which 
 his good sense taught him was rash, but prepared with alacrity to 
 perform his duty in the impending trial. 
 
 During this conversation, which was held at a small distance in 
 advance of the British column, and in full view of the Americans, 
 
104 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Punwoodie had been collecting his scattered troops, securing his fe v 
 prisoners, and retiring to the ground where he had been posted at 
 the first appearance of his enemy. Satisfied with the success he 
 had already obtained, and believing the English too wary to give 
 liim an opportunity of harassing them farther, he was about to with- 
 draw the guides; and, leaving a strong party on the ground to 
 watch the movement of the regulars, to fall back a few miles, to a 
 favourable place for taking up his quarters for the night. Captain 
 Lawton was reluctantly listening to the reasoning of his commander, 
 and had brought out his favourite glass, to see if no opening could 
 be found for an advantageous attack, when he suddenly exclaimed — 
 
 “ How ? s this ? a blue coat among those scarlet gentry. As I 
 hope to live to see old Virginia, it is my masquerading friend of the 
 60th, the handsome Captain Wharton, escaped from two of my 
 best men !” 
 
 He had not done speaking when the survivor of these heroes 
 joined his troop, bringing with him his own horse and those of the 
 Cow-Boys : he reported the death of his comrade, and the escape 
 of his prisoner. As the deceased was the immediate sentinel over 
 the person of young Wharton, and the other was not to be blamed 
 for defending the horses, which were more particularly under his 
 care, his captain heard him with uneasiness, but without anger. 
 
 This intelligence made an entire change in the views of Major 
 Punwoodie. He saw at once that his own reputation was involved 
 in the escape of his prisoner. The order to recall the guides was 
 countermanded, and he now joined his second in command, watching 
 as eagerly as the impetuous Lawton himself, for some opening to 
 rssail his foe to advantage. 
 
 But two hours before, and Punwoodie had felt the chance which 
 made Henry Wharton his captive, as the severest blow he had ever 
 sustained. Now he panted for an opportunity in which, by risking 
 his own life, he might recapture his friend. All other considerations 
 were lost in the goadings of a wounded spirit, and he might have 
 
T H E SPY. 
 
 105 
 
 soon emulated Lawton in hardihood, had not Welimere and his 
 troops at this moment crossed the brook into the open plain. 
 
 “There,” cried the delighted Captain, as he pointed out the 
 movement with his finger, “there comes John Bull into the mouse- 
 trap, and with eyes wide open.” 
 
 “ Surely,” said Dunwoodie, eagerly, “ he will not display his co- 
 lumn on that flat : Wharton must tell him of the ambush. But if 
 he does — ” 
 
 “We will not leave him a dozen sound skins in his battalion,” 
 interrupted the other, springing into his saddle. 
 
 The truth was soon apparent; for the English column, after ad- 
 vancing for a short distance on the level land, displayed with an 
 accuracy that would have done them honour on a field-day in their 
 own Hyde Park. 
 
 “ Prepare to mount — mount !” cried Dunwoodie ; the last word 
 being repeated by Lawton in a tone that rang in the ears of Caesar, 
 who stood at the open window of the cottage. The black recoiled in 
 dismay, having lost all his confidence in Captain Lawton’s timidity; 
 for he thought he yet saw him emerging from his cover and waving 
 his sword on high. 
 
 As the British line advanced slowly and in exact order, the guides 
 opened a galling fire. It began to annoy that part of the royal 
 troops which was nearest to them. Welimere listened to the advice 
 of the veteran who was next to him in rank, and ordered two com- 
 panies to dislodge the American foot from their hiding-place. The 
 movement created a slight confusion; and Dunwoodie seized the 
 opportunity to charge. No ground could be more favourable for the 
 manoeuvres of horse, and the attack of the Virginians was irresistible. 
 It was aimed chiefly at the bank opposite to the wood, in order to 
 clear the Americans from the fire of their friends who were concealed; 
 and it was completely successful. Welimere, who was on the left 
 of his line, was overthrown by the impetuous fury of his assailants. 
 Dunwoodie was in time to save him from the impending blow of one 
 
 5 * 
 
100 
 
 T HE SPY. 
 
 of his men, and raised him from the ground, had him placed on a 
 horse, and delivered to the custody of his orderly. The officer who 
 had suggested the attack upon the guides had been intrusted with 
 its execution, but the menace was sufficient for these irregulars. In 
 fact, their duty was performed, and they retired along the skirt of 
 the wood, with intent to regain their horses, which had been left 
 under a guard at the upper end of the valley. 
 
 The left of the British line was outflanked by the Americans, 
 who doubled in their rear, and thus made the rout in that quarter 
 total. But the second in command, perceiving how the battle went, 
 promptly wheeled his party, and threw in a heavy fire on the dra- 
 goons, as they passed him to the charge ; with this party was Henry 
 Wharton, who had volunteered to assist in dispersing the guides : a 
 ball struck his bridle-arm, and compelled him to change hands. As 
 the dragoons dashed by them, rending the air with their shouts, and 
 with trumpets sounding a lively strain, the charger ridden by the 
 youth became ungovernable — he plunged, reared, and his rider 
 being unable, with his wounded arm, to manage the impatient ani- 
 mal, Henry Wharton found himself, in less than a minute, unwill- 
 ingly riding by the side of Captain Lawton. The dragoon compre- 
 hended at a glance the ludicrous situation of his new comrade, but 
 had only time to cry aloud, before they plunged into the English 
 line — 
 
 “The horse knows the righteous cause better than his rider. 
 Captain Wharton, you are welcome to the ranks of freedom.” 
 
 No time was lost, however, by Lawton, after the charge was com- 
 pleted, in securing his prisoner again; and, perceiving him to be 
 hurt, he directed him to be conveyed to the rear. 
 
 The Virginian troopers dealt out their favours, with no gentle 
 hands, on that part of the royal foot who were thus left in a great 
 measure at their mercy. Dunwoodie, observing that the remnant 
 of the Hessians had again ventured on the plain, led on in pursuit, 
 
T HE Spy. 
 
 107 
 
 and easily overtaking tlieir light and half-fed horses, soon destroyed 
 the remainder of the detachment. 
 
 In the mean while, great numbers of the English, taking advan- 
 tage of the smoke and confusion in the field, were enabled to get in 
 the rear of the body of their countrymen, which still preserved its 
 order in a line parallel to the wood, but which had been obliged to 
 hold its fire, from the fear of injuring friends as well as foes. The 
 fugitives were directed to form a second line within the wood itself, 
 and under cover of the trees. This arrangement was not yet com- 
 pleted, when Captain Lawton called to a youth, who commanded 
 the other troop left with that part of the force which remained on 
 the ground, and proposed charging the unbroken line of the British. 
 The proposal was as promptly accepted as it had been made, and 
 the troops were arrayed for the purpose. The eagerness of their 
 leader prevented the preparations necessary to ensure success, and 
 the horse, receiving a destructive fire as they advanced, were thrown 
 into additional confusion. Both Lawton and his more juvenile 
 comrade fell at this discharge. Fortunately for the credit of the 
 Virginians, Major Dunwoodie re-entered the field at this critical 
 instant; he saw his troops in disorder; at his feet lay weltering in 
 blood George Singleton, a youth endeared to him by numberless 
 virtues, and Lawton was unhorsed, and stretched on the plain. The 
 eye of the youthful warrior flashed fire. Biding between this 
 squadron and the enemy, in a voice that reached the hearts of his 
 dragoons, he recalled them to their duty. His presence and words 
 acted like magic. The clamour of voices ceased; the line was 
 formed promptly and with exactitude; the charge sounded; and, 
 led on by their commander, the Virginians swept across the plain 
 with an impetuosity that nothing could withstand, and the field was 
 instantly cleared of the enemy : those who were not destroyed 
 sought a shelter in the woods. Dunwoodie slowly withdrew from 
 the fire of the English who were covered by the trees, and com- 
 menced the painful duty of collecting his dead and wounded. 
 
lUb 
 
 THE Spy, 
 
 The sergeant, charged with conducting Henry Wharton to t 
 place where he might procure surgical aid, set about performing his 
 duty with alacrity, in order to return as soon as possible to the scene 
 of strife. They had not reached the middle of the plain, before the 
 captain noticed a man whose appearance and occupation forcibly 
 arrested his attention. His head was bald and bare, but a well- 
 powdered wig was to be seen, half-concealed, in the pocket of his 
 breeches. His coat was off, and his arms were naked to the elbow ; 
 blood had disfigured much of his dress, and his hands, and even 
 face, bore this mark of his profession ; in his mouth was a segar ; 
 in his right hand some instruments of strange formation, and in his 
 leh; the remnants of an apple, with which he occasionally relieved 
 the duty of the before-mentioned segar. He was standing, lost in 
 the contemplation of a Hessian, who lay breathless before him. At 
 a little distance were three or four of the guides, leaning on their 
 muskets, and straining their eyes in the direction of the combatants, 
 and at his elbow stood a man who, from the implements in his hand, 
 and his bloody vestments, seemed an assistant. 
 
 “There, sir, is the doctor,” said the attendant of Henry, very 
 coolly ; “ he will patch up your arm in the twinkling of an eye ;’ s 
 and beckoning to the guides to approach, he whispered and pointed 
 to his prisoner, and then galloped furiously towards his com- 
 rades. 
 
 Wharton advanced to the side of this strange figure, and observ- 
 ing himself to be unnoticed, was about to request his assistance, 
 when the other broke silence in a soliloquy — 
 
 “ Now, I know this man to have been killed by Captain Lawton, 
 as well as if I had seen him strike the blow. How often have I 
 strove to teach him the manner in which he can disable his adver- 
 sary, without destroying life ! It is cruel thus unnecessarily to cut 
 off the human race, and furthermore, such blows as these render 
 professional assistance unnecessary ; it is in a measure treating the 
 lights of science with disrespect.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 109 
 
 “ If, sir, your leisure will admit,” said Henry Wharton, “ I must 
 beg your attention to a slight hurt.” 
 
 “Ah !” cried the other, starting, and examining him from head to 
 foot, “ you are from the field below ; is there much business there, 
 sir?” 
 
 “ Indeed,” answered Henry, accepting the offer of the surgeon tc 
 assist in removing his coat, “ ’t is a stirring time, I can assure you.” 
 “ Stirring !” repeated the surgeon, busily employed with his dress- 
 ings; “you give me great pleasure, sir; for so long as they can stir 
 there must be life ; and while there is life, you know, there is hope ; 
 but here my art is of no use. I did put in the brains of one patient, 
 but I rather think the man must have been dead before I saw him. 
 It is a curious case, sir ; I will take you to see it — only across the 
 fence there, where you may perceive so many bodies together. Ah ! 
 the ball has glanced around the bone without shattering it; you are 
 fortunate in falling into the hands of an old practitioner, or you 
 might have lost this limb.” 
 
 “ Indeed !” said Henry, with a slight uneasiness ; “ I did not 
 apprehend the injury to be so serious.” 
 
 “ Oh ! the hurt is not bad, but you have such a pretty arm for an 
 operation ; the pleasure of the thing might have tempted a novice.” 
 “The devil !” cried the Captain; “can there be any pleasure in 
 mutilating a fellow-creature?” 
 
 “ Sir,” said the surgeon, with gravity, “ a scientific amputation is 
 a very pretty operation, and doubtless might tempt a younger man, 
 in the hurry of business, to overlook all the particulars of the case.” 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the 
 dragoons, slowly marching towards their former halting-place, and 
 new applications from the slightly wounded soldiers, who now came 
 riding in, making hasty demands on the skill of the doctor. 
 
 The guides took charge of Wharton, and, with a heavy heart, the 
 young man retraced his steps to his father’s cottage. 
 
 The English had lost in the several charges about one-third of 
 
110 
 
 r II E SPY. 
 
 their foot, but the remainder were rallied in the wood ; and I)un- 
 woodie, perceiving them to be too strongly posted to assail, had left 
 a strong party with Captain Lawton, with orders to watch their mo- 
 tions, and to seize every opportunity to harass them before they re- 
 embarked. 
 
 Intelligence had reached the Major of another party being out, by 
 the way of the Hudson, and his duty required that he should hold 
 himself in readiness to defeat the intentions of these also. Captain 
 Lawton received his orders, with strong injunctions to make no assault 
 on the foe, unless a favourable chance should offer. The injury re- 
 ceived by this officer was in the head, being stunned by a glancing 
 bullet; and parting with a laughing declaration from the Major, that 
 if he again forgot himself, they should all think him more materially 
 hurt, each took his own course. 
 
 The British were a light party without baggage, that had been 
 sent out to destroy certain stores, understood to be collecting for the 
 use of the American army. They now retired through the woods to 
 the heights, and, keeping the route along their summits, in places 
 unassailable by cavalry, commenced a retreat to their boats. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 “ With fire and sword the country round 
 Was wasted far and wide ; 
 
 And many a childing mother then, 
 
 And new-born infant, died ; 
 
 But things like these, you know, must be 
 At every famous victory.” 
 
 The last sounds of the combat died on the ears of the anxious listen- 
 ers in the cottage, and were succeeded by the stillness of suspense. 
 Frances had continued by herself, striving to exclude the uproar, 
 and vainly endeavouring to summon resolution to meet the dreaded 
 result. The ground where the charge on the foot had taken place 
 was but a short mile from the Locusts, and, in the intervals of the 
 musketry, the cries of the soldiers had even reached the ears of its 
 inhabitants. After witnessing the escape of his son, Mr. Wharton 
 had joined his sister and eldest daughter in their retreat, and the 
 three continued fearfully waiting for news from the field. Unable 
 longer to remain under the painful uncertainty of her situation, 
 Frances soon added herself to the uneasy group, and Caesar was di- 
 rected to examine into the state of things without, and report on 
 whose banners victory had alighted. The father now briefly related 
 to his astonished children the circumstance and manner of their bro- 
 ther’s escape. They were yet in the freshness of their surprise, 
 when the door opened, and Captain Wharton, attended by a couple 
 of the guides, and followed by the black, stood before them. 
 
 “Henry — my son, my son,” cried the agitated parent, stretching 
 
112 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 out his arms, yet unable to rise from his seat; lC what is it I see? 
 are you again a captive, and in danger of your life?” 
 
 u The better fortune of these rebels has prevailed,” said the youth, 
 endeavouring to force a cheerful smile, and taking a hand of each 
 of his distressed sisters. u I strove nobly for my liberty ; but the 
 perverse spirit of rebellion has even lighted on their horses. The 
 steed I mounted carried me, greatly against my will, I acknowledge, 
 into the very centre of Danwoodie’s men.” 
 
 u And you were again captured,” continued the father, casting a 
 fearful glance on the armed attendants who had entered the room. 
 
 u That, sir, you may safely say : this Mr. Lawton, who sees sc 
 far, had me in custody again immediately.” 
 
 u Why you no hold ’em in, Massa Harry ?” cried Caesar, pettishly. 
 “ That,” said Wharton, smiling, “ was a thing easier said than 
 done, Mr. Caesar, especially as these gentlemen” (glancing his eye3 
 at the guides) “ had seen proper to deprive me of the use of my 
 better arm.” 
 
 “ Wounded !” exclaimed both sisters in a breath. 
 
 “ A mere scratch, but disabling me at a most critical moment,” 
 continued the brother, kindly, and stretching out the injured limb 
 to manifest the truth of his declaration. Caesar threw a look of 
 bitter animosity on the irregular warriors who were thought to have 
 had an agency in the deed, and left the room. A few more words 
 sufficed to explain all that Captain Wharton knew relative to the 
 fortune of the day. The result he thought yet doubtful, for when 
 he left the ground, the Virginians were retiring from the field of 
 battle. 
 
 “ They had tree’d the squirrel,” said one of the sentinels abruptly, 
 “ and didn’t quit the ground without leaving a good hound for the 
 chase, when he comes down.” 
 
 “ Ay,” added his comrade, drily, “ I’m thinking Captain Lawton 
 will count the noses of what are left before they see their whale- 
 boats.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 113 
 
 Frances had stood supporting herself by the back of a chair, dur- 
 ing this dialogue, catching in breathless anxiety every syllable as it 
 was uttered; her colour changed rapidly; her limbs shook under 
 her ; until, with desperate resolution, she enquired — 
 
 “Is any officer hurt on — the — on either side?” 
 
 “Yes,” answered the man, cavalierly, “these southern youths 
 are so full of mettle, that it 's seldom we fight but one or two gets 
 knocked over ; one of the wounded, who came up before the troops, 
 told me that Captain Singleton was killed, and Major Dunwoodie — ” 
 Frances heard no more, but fell lifeless in the chair behind her. 
 The attention of her friends soon revived her, when the Captain, 
 turning to the man, said, fearfully — 
 
 “ Surely Major Dunwoodie is unhurt ?” 
 
 “Never fear him,” added the guide, disregarding the agitation of 
 the family ; “ they say a man who is born to be hanged will never 
 be drowned : if a bullet could kill the Major, he would have been 
 dead long ago. X was going to say, that the Major is in a sad taking 
 because of the CaptahTs being killed ; but had I known how much 
 store the lady set by him, I would n't have been so plain-spoken.” 
 Frances now rose quickly from her seat, with cheeks glowing with 
 confusion, and, leaning on her aunt, was about to retire, when Dun- 
 woodie himself appeared. The first emotion of the agitated girl was 
 unalloyed happiness; in the next instant she shrank back appalled 
 from the unusual expression that reigned in his countenance. The 
 sternness of battle yet sat on his brow ; his eye was fixed and severe. 
 The smile of affection that used to lighten his dark features on meet- 
 ing his mistress, was supplanted by the lowering look of care ; his 
 whole soul seemed to be absorbed in one engrossing emotion, and he 
 proceeded at once to his object. 
 
 “ Mr. Wharton,” he earnestly began, “ in times like these, we 
 need not stand on idle ceremony : one of my officers, I am afraid, is 
 hurt mortally; and, presuming on your hospitality, I have brought 
 him to your door.” 
 
T H E SPY. 
 
 J 14 
 
 “1 am happy, sir, that you hav^ done so/’ said Mr. Wharton, at 
 once perceiving the importance of conciliating the American troops ; 
 “ the necessitous are always welcome, and doubly so, in being the 
 friend of Major Dunwoodie.” 
 
 “ Sir, I thank you for myself, and in behalf of him who is unabte 
 to render you his thanks,” returned the other, hastily; “if you 
 please, we will have him conducted where the surgeon may see and 
 report upon his case, without delay.” To this there could be no 
 objection ; and Frances felt a chill at her heart, as her lover with- 
 drew, without casting a solitary look on herself. 
 
 There is a devotedness in female love that admits of no rivalry. 
 All the tenderness of the heart, all the powers of the imagination, 
 are enlisted in behalf of the tyrant passion ; and where all is given, 
 much is looked for in return. Frances had spent hours of anguish, 
 of torture, on account of Dunwoodie, arid he now met her without a 
 smile, and left her without a greeting. The ardour of her feelings 
 was unabated, but the elasticity of her hopes was weakened. As the 
 supporters of the nearly lifeless body of Dunwoodie’ s friend passed 
 her, in their way to the apartment prepared for his reception, she 
 caught a view of this seeming rival. 
 
 His pale and ghastly countenance, sunken eye, and difficult breath- 
 ing, gave her a glimpse of death in its most fearful form. Dunwoo- 
 die was by his side, and held his hand, giving frequent and stern 
 injunctions to the men to proceed with care, and, in short, manifest- 
 ing all the solicitude that the most tender friendship could, on such 
 an occasion, inspire. Frances moved lightly before them, and, with 
 an averted face, she held open the door for their passage to the bed ; 
 it was only as the Major touched her garments, on entering the room, 
 that she ventured to raise her mild blue eyes to his face. But the 
 glance was unreturned, and Frances unconsciously sighed as she 
 sought the solitude of her own apartment. 
 
 Captain Wharton voluntarily gave a pledge to his keepers not to 
 attempt again escaping, and then proceeded to execute those duties, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 115 
 
 on behalf of his father, which were thought necessary in a host. On 
 entering the passage for that purpose, he met the operator who had 
 so dexterousty dressed his arm, advancing to the room of the wounded 
 officer. 
 
 “Ah !” cried the disciple of Esculapius, “ I see you are doing well ; 
 but stop ; have you a pin ? No ! here, I have one ; you must keep 
 the cold air from your hurt, or some of the youngsters will be at 
 work at you yet.” 
 
 “ God forbid,” muttered the Captain, in an under-tone, attentively 
 adjusting the bandages; when Dunwoodie appeared at the door, 
 impatiently crying aloud — 
 
 “ Hasten, Sitgreaves, hasten ; or George Singleton will die from 
 loss of blood.” 
 
 “What! Singleton! God forbid ! Bless me — is it George — 
 poor little George ?” exclaimed the surgeon, as he quickened his pace 
 with evident concern, and hastened to the side of the bed ; “ he is 
 alive, though, and while there is life there is hope. This is the first 
 serious case I have had to-day, where the patient was not already 
 dead. Captain Lawton teaches his men to strike with so little dis- 
 cretion — poor George — -bless me, it is a musket bullet.” 
 
 The youthful sufferer turned his eyes on the man of science, and 
 with a faint smile endeavoured to stretch forth his hand. There 
 was an appeal in the look and action that touched the heart of the 
 operator. The surgeon removed his spectacles to wipe an unusual 
 moisture from his eyes, and proceeded carefully to the discharge of 
 his duty. While the previous arrangements were, however, making, 
 be gave vent in some measure to his feelings, by saying — 
 
 “ When it is only a bullet, I have always some hopes ; there is a 
 chance that it hits nothing vital ; but, bless me, Captain Lawton’s 
 men cut so at random — generally sever the jugular or the carotid 
 artery, or let out the brains, and all are so difficult to remedy — the 
 patient mostly dying before one can get at him. I never had suc- 
 cess but once in replacing a man’s brains, although I have tried 
 
116 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 three this very day. It is easy to tell where Lawton’s troop charge 
 in a battle, they cut so at random.” 
 
 The group around the bed of Captain Singleton were too much 
 accustomed to the manner of their surgeon to regard or to reply to 
 his soliloquy; but they quietly awaited the moment when he was to 
 commence his examination. This now took place, and Dunwoodie 
 stood looking the operator in the face, with an expression that seemed 
 to read his soul. The patient shrunk from the application of the 
 probe, and a smile stole over the features of the surgeon, as he muk 
 tered — 
 
 u There has been nothing before it in that quarter.” He now 
 applied himself in earnest to his work, took off his spectacles, and 
 threw aside his wig. All this time Dunwoodie stood in feverish 
 silence, holding one of the hands of the sufferer in both his own, 
 watching the countenance of Doctor Sitgreaves. At length Single- 
 ton gave a slight groan, and the surgeon rose with alacrity, and said 
 aloud — 
 
 u Ah ! there is some pleasure in following a bullet ; it may be 
 said to meander through the human body, injuring nothing vital ; 
 but as for Captain Lawton’s men — ” 
 
 u Speak,” interrupted Dunwoodie ; u is there hope ? — can you find 
 the ball?” 
 
 u It ’s no difficult matter to find that which one has in his hand, 
 Major Dunwoodie,” replied the surgeon, coolly, preparing his dress- 
 ings ; “it took what that literal fellow, Captain Lawton, calls a cir- 
 cumbendibus, a route never taken by the swords of his men, not- 
 withstanding the multiplied pains I have been at to teach him how 
 to cut scientifically. Now, I saw a horse this day with his head 
 half severed from his body.” 
 
 “ That,” said Dunwoodie, as the blood rushed to his cheeks again, 
 and his dark eyes sparkled with the rays of hope, “ was some of m;y 
 handiwork ; I killed that horse myself.” 
 
THE S P Y . 
 
 117 
 
 “ You !” exclaimed the surgeon, dropping his dressing in surprise 
 “ you ! hut you knew it was a horse !” 
 
 “ T had such suspicions, I own/’ said the Major, smiling, and 
 holding a beverage to the lips of his friend. 
 
 “ Such blows alighting on the human frame are fatal,” continued 
 the Doctor, pursuing his business ; “ they set at nought the benefits 
 which flow from the lights of science ; they are useless in a battle, 
 for disabling your foe is all that is required. I have sat, Major 
 Dunwoodie, many a cold hour, while Captain Lawton has been en- 
 gaged, and after all my expectation, not a single case worth record- 
 ing has occurred — all scratches or death-wounds ; ah ! the sabre is a 
 sad weapon in unskilful hands ! Yes, Major Dunwoodie, many are 
 the hours I have thrown away in endeavouring to impress this truth 
 on Captain John Lawton.” 
 
 The impatient Major pointed silently to his friend, and the sur- 
 geon quickened his movements. 
 
 “ Ah ! poor George, it is a narrow chance ; but — ” he was inter- 
 rupted by a messenger requiring the presence of the commanding 
 officer in the field. Dunwoodie pressed the hand of his friend, and 
 beckoned the Doctor to follow him, as he withdrew. 
 
 “ What think you?” he whispered, on reaching the passage; 
 “will he live?” 
 
 “He will.” 
 
 “ Thank God !” cried the youth, hastening below. 
 
 Dunwoodie for a moment joined the family, who were now col- 
 lecting in the ordinary parlour. His face was no longer wanting in 
 smiles, and his salutations, though hasty, were cordial. He took no 
 notice of the escape and recapture of Henry Wharton, but seemed 
 to think the young man had continued where he had left him before 
 the encounter. On the ground they had not met. The English 
 officer withdrew in haughty silence to a window, leaving the Major 
 uninterrupted to make his communications. 
 
 The excitement produced by the events of the day in the youthful 
 
118 
 
 T II E S V Y . 
 
 feelings of the sifters, had been succeeded by a languor that kept 
 them both silent ; and Dunwoodie held his discourse with Miss Peyton. 
 
 “ Is there any hope, my cousin, that your friend can survive his 
 wound ?” said the lady, advancing towards her kinsman, with a smile 
 of benevolent regard. 
 
 u Every thing, my dear madam, every thing,” answered the sol- 
 dier cheerfully. u Sitgreaves says he will live, and he has never 
 deceived me.” 
 
 “ Your pleasure is not much greater than my own at this intelli- 
 gence. One so dear to Major Dunwoodie cannot fail to excite an 
 interest in the bosom of his friends.” 
 
 “ Say one so deservedly dear, madam,” returned the Major, with 
 warmth : “ he is the beneficent spirit of the corps, equally beloved 
 by us all; so mild, so equal, so just, so generous, with the meekness 
 of a lamb and the fondness of a dove — it is only in the hour of battle 
 that Singleton is a lion.” 
 
 “You speak of him as if he were your mistress, Major Dun- 
 woodie,” observed the smiling spinster, glancing her eye at her niece, 
 who sat pale and listening, in a corner of the room. 
 
 “ I love him as one,” cried the excited youth ; “ but he requires 
 care and nursing; all now depends on the attention he receives.” 
 
 “ Trust me, sir, he will want for nothing under this roof.” 
 u Pardon me, dear madam ; you are all that is benevolent, but 
 Singleton requires a care which many men would feel to be irksome. 
 It is at moments like these, and in sufferings like this, that the sol- 
 dier most finds the want of female tenderness.” As he spoke, he 
 turned his eyes on Frances with an expression that again thrilled to 
 the heart of his mistress : she rose from her seat with burning 
 cheeks, and said — 
 
 “ All the attention that can with propriety be given to a stranger, 
 will be cheerfully bestowed on your friend.” 
 
 “ Ah !” cried the Major, shaking his head, “ that cold word pro 
 priety will kill him ; he must be fostered, cherished, soothed.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 119 
 
 ' i These are offices for a sister or a wife.” 
 
 U A sister!” repeated the soldier, the blood rushing to his <wn 
 face tumultuously; “a sister! he has a sister; and one that might 
 be here with to-morrow’s sun.” He paused, mused in silence, glanced 
 his eyes uneasily at Frances, and muttered in an under tone — u ►Sin- 
 gleton requires it, and it must be done.” 
 
 The ladies had watched his varying countenance in some surprise, 
 and Miss Peyton now observed that — 
 
 u If there were a sister of Captain Singleton near them, her pre- 
 sence would be gladly requested both by herself and nieces.” 
 
 “ It must be, madam ; it cannot well be otherwise,” replied Dun- 
 woodie, with a hesitation that but ill agreed with his former decla- 
 rations ; “ she shall be sent for express this very night.” And then, 
 as if willing to change the subject, he approached Captain Wharton, 
 and continued, mildly — 
 
 “ Henry Wharton, to me honour is dearer than life ; but in your 
 hands I know it can safely be confided ; remain here un watched, 
 until we leave the county, which will not be for some days.” 
 
 The distance in the manner of the English officer vanished, and 
 taking the offered hand of the other, he replied with warmth — • 
 u Your generous confidence, Peyton, will not be abused, even though 
 the gibbet on which your Washington hung Andre be ready for my 
 own execution.” 
 
 u Henry, Henry Wharton,” said Hunwoodie reproachfully, “ you 
 little know the man who leads our armies, or you would have spared 
 him that reproach ; but duty calls me without. I leave you where 
 I could wish to stay myself, and where you cannot be wholly 
 unhappy.” 
 
 In passing Frances, she received another of those smiling looks 
 of affection she so much prized, and for a season the impression 
 made by his appearance after the battle was forgotten. 
 
 Among the veterans that had been impelled by the times to 
 abandon the quiet of age for the service of their country, was 
 
120 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Colonel Singleton. He was a native of Georgia, and had been for 
 the earlier years of his life a soldier by profession. When the 
 struggle for liberty commenced, he offered his services to his 
 country, and from respect to his character they had been accepted. 
 His years and health had, however, prevented his discharging the 
 active duties of the field, and he had been kept in command of 
 different posts of trust, where his country might receive the benefits 
 of his vigilance and fidelity without inconvenience to himself. For 
 the last year he had been intrusted with the passes into the High- 
 lands, and was now quartered, with his daughter, but a short day’s 
 march above the valley where Dunwoodie had met the enemy. 
 His only other child was the wounded officer we have mentioned. 
 Thither, then, the Major prepared to despatch a messenger with the 
 unhappy news of the Captain’s situation, and charged with such an 
 invitation from the ladies as he did not doubt would speedily bring 
 the sister to the couch of her brother. 
 
 This duty performed, though with an unwillingness that only 
 could make his former anxiety more perplexing, Dunwoodie pro- 
 ceeded to the field where his troops had halted. The remnant of 
 the English were already to be seen, over the tops of the trees, 
 marching along the heights towards their boats, in compact order 
 and with great watchfulness. The detachment of the dragoons 
 under Lawton were a short distance on their flank, eagerly awaiting 
 a favourable moment to strike a blow. In this manner both parties 
 were soon lost to view. 
 
 A short distance above the Locusts was a small hamlet, where 
 several roads intersected each other, and from which, consequently, 
 access to the surrounding country was easy. It was a favourite 
 halting-place of the horse, and frequently held by the light parties 
 of the American army during their excursions below. Dunwoodie 
 had been the first to discover its advantages, and as it was necessary 
 for him to remain in the county until further orders from above, it 
 cannot be supposed he overlooked them now. To this place the 
 
THE SPT, 
 
 121 
 
 troops wore directed to retire, carrying with them their wounded ; 
 parties were already employed in the sad duty of interring the dead. 
 In making these arrangements, a new object of embarrassment pre- 
 sented itself to our young soldier. In moving through the field, 
 he was struck with the appearance of Colonel Wellmere, seated by 
 himself, brooding over his misfortunes, uninterrupted by any thing 
 but the passing civilities of the American officers. His anxiety on 
 behalf of Singleton had hitherto banished the recollection of his 
 captive from the mind of Dunwoodie, and he now approached him 
 with apologies for his neglect. The Englishman received his cour- 
 tesies with coolness, and complained of being injured by what he 
 affected to think was the accidental stumbling of his horse. Dun- 
 woodie, who had seen one of his own men ride him down, and that 
 with very little ceremony, slightly smiled, as he offered him surgical 
 assistance. This could only be procured at the cottage, and thither 
 they both proceeded. 
 
 u Colonel Wellmere !” cried young Wharton in astonishment as 
 they entered, “ has the fortune of w^ar been thus cruel to you also ? 
 — but you are welcome to the house of my father, although I could 
 wish the introduction to have taken place under more happy circum- 
 stances.” 
 
 Mr. Wharton received this new guest with the guarded caution 
 that distinguished his manner, and Dunwoodie left the room to seek 
 the bedside of his friend. Every thing here looked propitious, and 
 he acquainted the surgeon that another patient waited his skill in 
 the room below. The sound of the word was enough to set the 
 doctor in motion, and seizing his implements of office, he went in 
 quest of this new applicant. At the door of the parlour he was met 
 by the ladies, who were retiring. Miss Peyton detained him for a 
 moment, to enquire into the welfare of Captain Singleton. Frances 
 smiled with something of her natural archness of manner, as she 
 contemplated the grotesque appearance of the bald-headed practi- 
 tioner ; but Sarah was too much agitated, with the surprise of the 
 
 6 
 
122 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 unexpected interview with the British Colonel, to observe him. It 
 has already been intimated that Colonel Wellmere was an old 
 acquaintance of the family. Sarah had been so long absent from 
 the city, that she had in some measure been banished from the 
 remembrance of the gentleman ; but the recollections of Sarah were 
 more vivid. There is a period in the life of every woman when she 
 may be said to be predisposed to love ; it is at the happy age when 
 infancy is lost in opening maturity — when the guileless heart beats 
 with those anticipations of life which the truth can never realize — 
 and when the imagination forms images of perfection that are copied 
 after its own unsullied visions. At this happy age Sarah left the 
 city, and she had brought with her a picture of futurity, faintly 
 impressed, it is true, but which gained durability from her solitude, 
 and in which Wellmere had been placed in the foreground. The 
 surprise of the meeting had in some measure overpowered her, and 
 after receiving the salutations of the colonel, she had risen, in com- 
 pliance with a signal from her observant aunt, to withdraw. 
 
 “ Then, sir,” observed Miss Peyton, after listening to the surgeon’s 
 account of his young patient, “ we may be flattered with the expec- 
 tation that he will recover.” 
 
 “ ’T is certain, madam,” returned the doctor, endeavouring, out of 
 respect to the ladies, to replace his wig; “’tis certain, with care and 
 good nursing.” 
 
 “ In those he shall not be wanting,” said the spinster, mildly. 
 “ Every thing we have he can command, and Major Dunwoodie has 
 despatched an express for his sister.” 
 
 “ His sister !” echoed the practitioner, with a look of particular 
 meaning; “if the Major has sent for her, she will come.” 
 
 “Her brother’s danger would* induce her, one would imagine.” 
 “No doubt, madam,” continued the doctor, laconically, bowing 
 low, and giving room to the ladies to pass. The words and the 
 manner were not lost on the younger sister, in whose presence the 
 name of Dunwoodie was never mentioned unheeded. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 123 
 
 “Sir,” cried Dr. Sitgreaves, on entering the parlour, addressing 
 himself to the only coat of scarlet in the room, “ I am advised you 
 are in want of my aid. God send is not Captain Lawton with 
 whom you came in contact, in which case I may be too late.” 
 
 “ There must be some mistake, sir,” said Wellmere, haughtily; 
 “it was a surgeon that Major Dunwoodie was to send me, and not 
 an old woman.” 
 
 “ 'T is Dr. Sitgreaves,” said Henry Wharton, quickly, though with 
 difficulty suppressing a laugh ; “ the multitude of his engagements, 
 to-day, has prevented his usual attention to his attire.” 
 
 “Your pardon, sir,” added Wellmere, very ungraciously proceed- 
 ing to lay aside his coat, and exhibit what he called a wounded arm. 
 
 “ If, sir,” said the surgeon, drily, “ the degrees of Edinburgh — 
 walking your London hospitals — amputating some hundreds of limbs 
 — operating on the human frame in every shape that is warranted 
 by the lights of science, a clear conscience, and the commission of 
 the Continental Congress, can make a surgeon, I am one.” 
 
 “Your pardon, sir,” repeated the Colonel, stiffly. “Captain 
 Wharton has accounted for my error.” 
 
 “ For which I thank Captain Wharton,” said the surgeon, pro- 
 ceeding coolly to arrange his amputating instruments, with a formal- 
 ity that made the Colonel's blood run cold. “ Where are you hurt, 
 sir ? What ! is it then this scratch in your shoulder ? In what 
 manner might you have received this wound, sir ?” 
 
 “ From the sword of a rebel dragoon,” said the Colonel, with 
 emphasis. 
 
 “Never. Even the gentle George Singleton would not have 
 breathed on you so harmlessly.” He took a piece of sticking-plaster 
 from his pocket, and applied it to the part. “ There, sir ; that will 
 answer your purpose, and I am certain it is all that is required 
 of me.” 
 
 “ What do you take to be my purpose, then, sir ?” 
 
 “To report yourself wounded in your despatches,” replied the 
 
124 
 
 T HE SPY. 
 
 doctor, with great steadiness ; “ and yon may say that an old woman 
 dressed your hurts — for if one did not, one easily might !” 
 
 “Very extraordinary language,” muttered the Englishman. 
 
 Here Captain Wharton interfered ; and, by explaining the mistake 
 of Colonel Wellmere to proceed from his irritated mind and pain of 
 body, he in part succeeded in mollifying the insulted practitioner, 
 who consented to look further into the hurts of the other. They 
 were chiefly bruises from his fall, to which Sitgreaves made some 
 hasty applications, and withdrew. 
 
 The horse, haying taken their required refreshment, prepared to 
 fall back to their intended position, and it became incumbent on 
 Dunwoodie to arrange the disposal of his prisoners. Sitgreaves he 
 determined to leave in the cottage of Mr. Wharton, in attendance on 
 Captain Singleton. Henry came to him with a request that Colonel 
 Wellmere might also be left behind, under his parole, until the 
 troops marched higher into the country. To this the Major cheer- 
 fully assented ; and as all the rest of the prisoners were of the vulgar 
 herd, they were speedily collected, and, under the care of a strong 
 guard, ordered to the interior. The dragoons soon after marched ; 
 and the guides, separating in small parties, accompanied by patroles 
 from the horse, spread themselves across the country, in such a man- 
 ner as to make a chain of sentinels from the waters of the Sound to 
 those of the Hudson.* 
 
 Dunwoodie had lingered in front of the cottage, after he paid his 
 parting compliments, with an unwillingness to return, that he thought 
 proceeded from his solicitude for his wounded friends. The heart 
 which has not become callous, soon sickens with the glory that has 
 been purchased with a waste of human life. Peyton Dunwoodie, 
 left to himself, and no longer excited by the visions which youthful 
 ardour had kept before him throughout the day, began to feel there 
 were other ties than those which bound the soldier within the rigid 
 
 * The scene of this tale is between these two waters, which are but a few 
 miles from each other. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 125 
 
 rules of honour. He did not waver in his duty, yet he felt how 
 strong was the temptation. His blood had ceased to flow with the 
 impulse created by the battle. The stern expression of his eye gra- 
 dually gave place to a look of softness ; and his reflections on the 
 victory brought with them no satisfaction that compensated for the 
 sacrifices by which it had been purchased. While turning his last 
 lingering gaze on the Locusts, he remembered only that it contained 
 all that he most valued. The friend of his youth was a prisoner, 
 under circumstances that endangered both life and honour. The 
 gentle companion of his toils, who could throw around the rude en- 
 joyments of a soldier the graceful mildness of peace, lay a bleeding 
 victim to his success. The image of the maid who had held, during 
 the day, a disputed sovereignty in his bosom, again rose to his view 
 with a loveliness that banished her rival, glory, from his mind. 
 
 The last lagging trooper of the corps had already disappeared be- 
 hind the northern hill, and the Major unwillingly turned his horse 
 in the same direction. Frances, impelled by a restless inquietude, 
 now timidly ventured on the piazza of the cottage. The day had 
 been mild and clear, and the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless 
 sky. The tumult, which so lately disturbed the valley, was suc- 
 ceeded by the stillness of death, and the fair scene before her looked 
 as if it had never been marred by the passions of men. One solitary 
 cloud, the collected smoke of the contest, hung over the field ; and 
 this was gradually dispersing, leaving no vestige of the conflict above 
 the peaceful graves of its victims. All the conflicting feelings, all 
 the tumultuous circumstances of the eventful day, appeared like the 
 deceptions of a troubled vision. Frances turned, and caught a glimpse 
 of the retreating figure of him who had been so conspicuous an actoi 
 in the scene, and the illusion vanished. She recognised her lover, 
 and, with the truth, came other recollections that drove her to the 
 room, with a heart as sad as that which Dunwoodie himself born 
 from the valley 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A. moment gazed adown the dale, 
 
 A moment snuff’d the tainted gale, 
 
 A moment listen’d to the cry, 
 
 That thicken’d as the chase drew nigh 
 Then, as the headmost foe appear’d, 
 
 With one brave bound the copse he clear’d, 
 
 And, stretching forward free and far, 
 
 Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 The party under Captain Lawton had watched the retiring foe at 
 his boats with the most unremitting vigilance, without finding any 
 fit opening for a charge. The experienced successor of Colonel 
 Wellmere knew too well the power of his enemy to leave the uneven 
 surface of the heights, until compelled to descend to the level of the 
 water. Before he attempted this hazardous movement, he threw 
 his men into a compact square, with its outer edges bristling with 
 bayonets. In this position, the impatient trooper well understood 
 that brave men could never be assailed by cavalry with success, and 
 he was reluctantly obliged to hover near them, without seeing any 
 opportunity of stopping their slow but steady march to the beach. 
 A small schooner, which had been their convoy from the city, lay 
 with her guns bearing on the place of embarkation. Against this 
 combination of force and discipline, Lawton had sufficient prudence 
 to see it would be folly to contend, and the English were suffered to 
 embark without molestation. The dragoons lingered on the shore 
 till the last moment, and then they reluctantly commenced their own 
 retreat back to the main body of the corps. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 127 
 
 The gathering mists of the evening had begun to darken the val- 
 ley, as the detachment of Lawton made its re-appearance, at its 
 southern extremity. The march of the troops was slow, and their 
 line extended, for the benefit of ease. In the front rode the Captain, 
 side by side with his senior subaltern, apparently engaged in close 
 conference, while the rear was brought up by a young cornet, hum- 
 ming an air, and thinking of the sweets of a straw bed after the 
 fatigues of a hard day’s duty. 
 
 “ Then it struck you too ?” said the Captain. “ The instant I 
 placed my eyes on her, I remembered the face ; it is one not easily 
 forgotten. By my faith, Tom, the girl does no discredit to the Ma- 
 jor’s taste.” 
 
 “ She would do honour to the corps,” replied the Lieutenant, 
 with some warmth ; “ those blue eyes might easily win a man to 
 gentler employments than this trade of ours. In sober truth, I can 
 easily imagine, such a girl might tempt even me to quit the broad- 
 sword and saddle, for a darning-needle and pillion.” 
 
 “ Mutiny, sir, mutiny,” cried the other, laughing; “what, you, 
 Tom Mason, dare to rival the gay, admired, and withal rich, Major 
 Dunwoodie in his love ! You, a lieutenant of cavalry, with but one 
 horse, and he none of the best ! whose captain is as tough as a pep- 
 erage log, and has as many lives as a cat.” 
 
 “ Faith,” said the subaltern, smiling m his turn, “ the log may 
 yet be split, and Grimalkin lose his lives, if you often charge as 
 madly as you did this morning. What think you of many raps from 
 such a beetle as laid you on your back to-day ?” 
 
 “Ah! don’t mention it, my good Tom; the thought makes my 
 head ache,” replied the other, shrugging up his shoulders ; “ it is 
 what I call forestalling night.” 
 
 “ The night of death ?” 
 
 “ No, sir, the night that follows day. I saw myriads of stars, 
 things which should hide their faces in the presence of the lordly 
 
128 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 sun. I do think nothing hut this thick cap saved me for your com- 
 fort a little longer, maugre the cat’s lives.” 
 
 “ I have much reason to be obliged to the cap,” said Mason, drily : 
 “ that or the skull must have had a reasonable portion of thickness, 
 I admit.” 
 
 “ Come, come, Tom, you are a licensed joker, so I T1 not feign 
 anger with you,” returned the Captain, good-humouredly; “but 
 Singleton’s lieutenant, I am fearful, will fare better than yourself 
 for this day’s service.” 
 
 “ I believe both of us will be spared the pain of receiving promo- 
 tion purchased by the death of a comrade and friend,” observed 
 Mason, kindly; “it was reported that Sitgreaves said he would 
 live.” 
 
 “ From my soul I hope so,” exclaimed Lawton : “ for a beardless 
 face, that boy carries the stoutest heart I have ever met with. It 
 surprises me, however, that, as we both fell at the same instant, the 
 men behaved so well.” 
 
 “ For the compliment, I might thank you,” cried the Lieutenant 
 with a laugh; “but modesty forbids; I did my best to stop them, 
 but without success.” 
 
 “ Stop them !” roared the Captain ; “ would you stop men in the 
 middle of a charge?” 
 
 “I thought they were going the wrong way,” answered the 
 subaltern. 
 
 “ Ah ! our fall drove them to the right about ?” 
 
 “It was either your fall, or apprehensions of their own; until 
 the Major rallied us, we were in admirable disorder.” 
 
 “ Dunwoodie ! the Major was on the crupper of the Dutchman.” 
 
 “ Ah ! but he managed to get off the crupper of the Dutchman. 
 He came in, at half-speed, with the other two troops, and riding 
 between us and the enemy, with that imperative way he has when 
 roused, brought us in line in the twinkling of an eye. Then it was,” 
 added the Lieutenant, with animation, “ that we sent J ohn Bull to 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 129 
 
 the bushes. Oh ! it was a sweet charge — heads and tails, until we 
 were upon them.” 
 
 “ The devil ! What a sight I missed !” 
 
 “You slept through it all.” 
 
 “ Yes,” returned the other, with a sigh ; “ it was all lost to me 
 and poor George Singleton. But, Tom, what will George’s sister 
 say to this fair-haired maiden, in yonder white building ?” 
 
 “ Hang b grself in her garters,” said the subaltern. “ 1 owe a 
 proper respect to my superiors, but two such angels are more than 
 justly falls to the share of one man, unless he be a Turk or 
 a Hindoo.” 
 
 “Yes, yes,” said the Captain, quickly, “the Major is ever 
 preaching morality to the youngsters, but he is a sly fellow in the 
 main. Do you observe how fond he is of the cross roads above this 
 valley? Now, if I were to halt the troops twice in the same place, 
 you would all swear there was a petticoat in the wind.” 
 
 “You are well known to the corps.” 
 
 “Well, Tom, a slanderous propensity is incurable — but,” 
 stretching forward his body in the direction he was gazing, as if to 
 aid him in distinguishing objects through the darkness, “what 
 animal is moving through the field on our right ?” 
 
 “’Tis a man,” said Mason, looking intently at the suspicious 
 object. 
 
 “By his hump ’tis a dromedary!” added the Captain, eyeing it 
 keenly. Wheeling his horse suddenly from the highway, he 
 exclaimed — “ Harvey Birch ! — take him, dead or alive !” 
 
 Mason and a few of the leading dragoons only understood the 
 sudden cry, but it was heard throughout the line. A dozen of the 
 men, with the Lieutenant at their head, followed the impetuous 
 Lawton, and their speed threatened the pursued with a sudden ter- 
 mination of the race. 
 
 Birch prudently kept his position on the rock, where he had been 
 seen by the passing glance of Henry Wharton, until evening had 
 
 6 * 
 
130 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 begun to shroud the surrounding objects in darkness. From this 
 height he had seen all the events of the day as they occurred. He 
 had watched, with a beating heart, the departure of the troops under 
 Dunwoodie, and with difficulty had curbed his impatience until the 
 obscurity of night should render his moving free from danger. He 
 had not, however, completed a fourth of his way to his own resi- 
 dence, when his quick ear distinguished the tread of the approaching 
 horse. Trusting to the increasing darkness, he determined to per- 
 severe. By crouching and moving quickly along the surface of the 
 ground, he hoped yet to escape unseen. Captain Lawton was too 
 much engrossed with the foregoing conversation to suffer his eyes to 
 indulge in their usual wandering ; and the pedler, perceiving by the 
 voices that the enemy he most feared had passed, yielded to his 
 impatience, and stood erect, in order to make greater progress. 
 The moment his body arose above the shadow of the ground, it was 
 seen and the chase commenced. For a single instant, Birch was 
 helpless, his blood curdling in his veins at the imminence of the 
 danger, and his legs refusing their natural and necessary office. 
 But it was only for a moment. Casting his pack where he stood, 
 and instinctively tightening the belt he wore, the pedler betook 
 himself to flight. He knew that by bringing himself in a line with 
 his pursuers and the wood, his form would be lost to sight. This 
 he soon effected, and he was straining every nerve to gain the wood 
 itself, when several horsemen rode by him but a short distance on 
 his left, and cut him off from this place of refuge. The pedler 
 threw himself on the ground as they came near him, and was passed 
 unseen. But delay, now, became too dangerous for him to remain 
 in that position. He accordingly arose, and still keeping in the 
 shadow of the wood, along the skirts of which he heard voices 
 crying to each other to be watchful, he ran with incredible speed in 
 a parallel line, but in an opposite direction, to the march of the 
 dragoons. 
 
 The confusion of the chase had been heard by the whole of the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 131 
 
 men, though none distinctly understood the order of Lawton hut 
 those who followed. The remainder were lost in doubt as to the 
 duty that was required of them; and the aforesaid cornet was 
 making eager enquiries of the trooper near him on the subject, when 
 a man, at a short distance in his rear, crossed the road at a single 
 bound. At the same instant, the stentorian voice of LawTon rang 
 through the valley, shouting — 
 
 u Harvey Birch — take him, dead or alive !” 
 
 Fifty pistols lighted the scene, and the bullets whistled in every 
 direction round the head of the devoted pedler. A feeling of 
 despair seized his heart, and in the bitterness of that moment 
 he exclaimed — 
 
 “ Hunted like a beast of the forest !” 
 
 He felt life and its accompaniments to be a burden, and was about 
 to yield himself to his enemies. Nature, however, prevailed. If 
 taken, there was great reason to apprehend that he would not be 
 honoured with the forms of a trial, but that most probably the morn- 
 ing sun would witness his ignominious execution ; for he had already 
 been condemned to death, and had only escaped that fate by strata- 
 gem. These considerations, with the approaching footsteps of his 
 pursuers, roused him to new exertions. He again fled before them. 
 A fragment of a wall, that had withstood the ravages made by war 
 in the adjoining fences of wood, fortunately crossed his path. He 
 hardly had time to throw his exhausted limbs over this barrier, 
 before twenty of his enemies reached its opposite side. Their horses 
 refused to take the leap in the dark, and amid the confusion of the 
 rearing chargers, and the execrations of their riders, Birch was 
 enabled to gain a sight of the base of the hill, on whose summit 
 was a place of perfect security. The heart of the pedler now beat 
 high with hope, when the voice of Captain Lawton again rang in his 
 ears, shouting to his men to make room. The order was obeyed, 
 and the fearless trooper rode at the wall at the top of his horse’s 
 speed, plunged the rowels in his charger, and flew over the obstacle 
 
132 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 in safety. The triumphant hurrahs of the men, and the thundering 
 tread of the horse, too plainly assured the pedler of the emergency 
 of his danger. He was nearly exhausted, and his fate no longer 
 seemed doubtful. 
 
 “ Stop, or die !” was uttered above his head, and in fearful 
 proximity to his ears. 
 
 Harvey stole a glance over his shoulder, and saw, within a bound 
 of him, the man he most dreaded. By the light of the stars he 
 beheld the uplifted arm and the threatening sabre. Fear, exhaus- 
 tion, and despair, seized his heart, and the intended victim fell at 
 the feet of the dragoon. The horse of Lawton struck the prostrate 
 pedler, and both steed and rider came violently to the earth. 
 
 As quick as thought, Birch was on his feet again, w r ith the sword 
 of the discomfited dragoon in his hand. Vengeance seems but too 
 natural to human passions. There are few who have not felt the 
 seductive pleasure of making our injuries recoil on their authors; 
 and yet there are some who know how much sweeter it is to return 
 good for evil. 
 
 All the wrongs of the pedler shone on his brain with a dazzling 
 brightness. For a moment the demon within him prevailed, and 
 Birch brandished the powerful weapon in the air; in the next, it 
 fell harmless on the reviving but helpless trooper. The pedler va- 
 nished up the side of the friendly rock. 
 
 u Help Captain Lawton, there I” cried Mason, as he rode up, fol- 
 lowed by a dozen of his men ; “ and some of you dismount with me, 
 and search these rocks ; the villain lies here concealed.” 
 
 •“ Hold !” roared the discomfited Captain, raising himself with 
 difficulty on his feet ; “if one of you dismount, he dies. Tom, my 
 good fellow, you will help me to straddle Boanoke again.” 
 
 The astonished subaltern complied in silence, while the wondering 
 dragoons remained as fixed in their saddles, as if they composed part 
 of the animals they rode. 
 
 “You are much hurt, I fear,” said ^lason, with something of 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 133 
 
 condolence in his manner, as they re-entered the highway, and 
 biting off the end of a segar for the want of a better quality of 
 tobacco. 
 
 “ Something so, I do believe,” replied the Captain, catching his 
 breath, and speaking with difficulty ; “ I wish our bone-setter was 
 at hand, to examine into the state of my ribs.” 
 
 u Sitgreaves is left in attendance on Captain Singleton, at the 
 house of Mr. Wharton.” 
 
 “ Then there I halt for the night, Tom. These rude times must 
 abridge ceremony ; besides, you may remember the old gentleman 
 professed a. kinsman's regard for the corps. I can never think of 
 passing so good a friend without a halt.” 
 
 “ And I will lead the troop to the Four Corners; if we all halt 
 there, we shall breed a famine in the land.” 
 
 a A condition I never desire to be placed in. The idea of that 
 graceful spinster's cakes is no bad solace for twenty-four hours in 
 the hospital.” 
 
 (i Oh ! you won't die if you can think of eating,” said Mason, with 
 a laugh. 
 
 “I should surely die if I could not,” observed the Captain, 
 gravely. 
 
 u Captain Lawton,” said the orderly of his troop, riding to the 
 side of his commanding officer, u we are now passing the house of 
 the pedler spy ; is it your pleasure that we burn it ?” 
 
 “ No !” roared the Captain, in a voice that startled the disap- 
 pointed serjeant ; u are you an incendiary ? would you burn a house 
 in cold blood ? let but a spark approach, and the hand that carries 
 it will never light another.” 
 
 “ Zounds !” muttered the sleepy cornet in the rear, as he was 
 nodding on his horse, u there is life in the Captain, notwithstanding 
 his tumble.” 
 
 Lawton and Mason rode on in silence, the latter ruminating on 
 
134 
 
 T H k SPY. 
 
 the wonderful change produced in his commander by his fall, when 
 they arrived opposite to the gate before the residence of Mr. Whar- 
 ton. The troop continued its march; but the Captain and his Lieu- 
 tenant dismounted, and, followed by the servant of the former, they 
 proceeded slowly to the door of the cottage. 
 
 Colonel Wellmere had already sought a retreat in his own room ; 
 Mr. Wharton and his son were closeted by themselves; and the 
 ladies were administering the refreshments of the tea-table to the 
 surgeon of the dragoons, who had seen one of his patients in his bed, 
 and the other happily enjoying the comforts of a sweet sleep. A 
 few natural enquiries from Miss Peyton had opened the soul of the 
 doctor, who knew every individual of her extensive family connec- 
 tion in Virginia, and who even thought it possible that he had seen 
 the lady herself. The amiable spinster smiled as she felt it to be 
 improbable that she should ever have met her new acquaintance 
 before, and not remember his singularities. It, however, greatly 
 relieved the embarrassment of their situation, and something like a 
 discourse was maintained between them ; the nieces were only listen- 
 ers, nor could the aunt be said to be much more. 
 
 “ As I was observing, Miss Peyton, it was merely the noxious 
 vapours of the low lands that rendered the plantation of your brother 
 an unfit residence for man ; but quadrupeds were — ■” 
 
 “ Bless me, what ’s that ?” said Miss Peyton, turning pale at the 
 report of the pistols fired at Birch. 
 
 “ It sounds prodigiously like the concussion on the atmosphere 
 made by the explosion of fire-arms,” said the surgeon, sipping his 
 tea with great indifference. “ I should imagine it to be the troop 
 of Captain Lawton returning, did I not know the Captain never uses 
 the pistol, and that he dreadfully abuses the sabre.” 
 
 u Merciful providence !” exclaimed the agitated maiden, u he 
 would not injure one with it certainly.” 
 
 “ Injure !” repeated the other quickly : u it is certain death, ma- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 135 
 
 dam; the most random blows imaginable; all that I can say to him 
 will have no effect.” 
 
 “ But Captain Lawton is the officer we saw this morning, and is 
 surely your friend,” said Frances, hastily, observing her aunt to be 
 seriously alarmed. 
 
 “ I find no fault with his want of friendship ; the man is well 
 enough if he would learn to cut scientifically. All trades, madam, 
 ought to be allowed to live ; but what is to become of a surgeon, if 
 his patients are dead before he sees them !” 
 
 The doctor continued haranguing on the probability and improba- 
 bility of its being the returning troop, until a loud knock at the door 
 gave new alarm to the ladies. Instinctively laying his hand on a 
 small saw, that had been his companion for the whole day, in the 
 vain expectation of an amputation, the surgeon, coolly assuring the 
 ladies that he would stand between them and danger, proceeded in 
 person to answer to the summons. 
 
 u Captain Lawton !” exclaimed the surgeon, as he beheld the 
 trooper leaning on the arm of his subaltern, and with difficulty 
 crossing the threshold. 
 
 u Ah ! my dear bone-setter, is it you ? You are here very 
 fortunately to inspect my carcass; but do lay aside that rascally 
 saw !” 
 
 A few words from Mason explained the nature and manner of his 
 Captain's hurts, and Miss Peyton cheerfully accorded the required 
 accommodations. While the room intended for the trooper was get- 
 ting ready, and the doctor was giving certain portentous orders, the 
 Captain was invited to rest himself in the parlour. On the table 
 was a dish of more substantial food than ordinarily adorned the after- 
 noon's repast, and it soon caught the attention of the dragoons. Miss 
 Peyton, recollecting that they had probably made their only meal 
 that day at her own table, kindly invited them to close it with an- 
 other. The offer required no pressing, and in a few minutes the 
 
136 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 two were comfortably seated, and engaged in an employment that 
 was only interrupted by an occasional wry face from the Captain, 
 who moved his body in evident pain. These interruptions, how- 
 ever, interfered but little with the principal business in hand ; and 
 the Captain had got happily through with this important duty, be- 
 fore the surgeon returned to announce all things ready for his ac 
 commodation, in the room above stairs. 
 
 u Eating !” cried the astonished physician ; “ Captain Lawton, do 
 you wish to die?” 
 
 u I have no particular ambition that way,” said the trooper, ris- 
 ing, and bowing good night to the ladies, u and, therefore, have been 
 providing the materials necessary to preserve life.” 
 
 The surgeon muttered his dissatisfaction, while he followed Mason 
 and the Captain from the apartment. 
 
 Every house in America had, at that day, what was emphatically 
 called its best room, and this had been allotted, by the unseen influ- 
 ence of Sarah, to Colonel Wellmere. The down counterpane, which 
 a clear frosty night would render extremely grateful over bruised 
 limbs, decked the English officer’s bed. A massive silver tankard, 
 richly embossed with the W harton arms, held the beverage he was 
 to drink during the night; while beautiful vessels of china per- 
 formed the same office for the two American captains. Sarah was 
 certainly unconscious of the silent preference she had been giving to 
 the English officer ; and it is equally certain, that but for his hurts, 
 bed, tankard, and every thing but the beverage, would have been 
 matters of indifference to Captain Lawton, half of whose nights were 
 spent in his clothes, and not a few of them in the saddle. After 
 taking possession, however, of a small but very comfortable room, 
 Doctor Sitgreaves proceeded to enquire into the state of his injuries. 
 He had begun to pass his hand over the body of his patient, when 
 the latter cried impatiently — 
 
 “ Sitgreaves, do me the favour to lay that rascally saw aside, or 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 137 
 
 I shall have recourse to m y sabre in self-defence ; the sight of it 
 makes my blood cold.” 
 
 “ Captain Lawton, for a man who has so often exposed life and 
 limb, you are unaccountably afraid of a very useful instrument.” 
 
 “ Heaven keep me from its use,” said the trooper, with a 
 shrug. 
 
 “ You would not despise the lights of science, nor refuse surgical 
 aid, because this saw might be necessary?” 
 
 “ I would.” 
 
 “ You would !” 
 
 “ Yes; you shall never joint me like a quarter of beef, while I 
 have life to defend myself,” cried the resolute dragoon. “ But I 
 grow sleepy; are any of my ribs broken ? 
 
 “No” 
 
 “Any of my bones?” 
 
 “No.” 
 
 “ Tom, I T1 thank you for that pitcher.” As he ended his draught, 
 he very deliberately turned his back on his companions, and good- 
 naturedly cried — “ Good-night, Mason ; good-night, Galen.” 
 
 Captain Lawton entertained a profound respect for the surgical 
 abilities of his comrade, but he was very sceptical on the subject of 
 administering internally for the ailings of the human frame. With 
 a full stomach, a stout heart, and a clear conscience, he often main- 
 tained that a man might bid defiance to the world and its vicissitudes. 
 Nature provided him with the second, and, to say the truth, he strove 
 manfully himself to keep up the other two requisites in his creed. 
 It was a favourite maxim with him, that the last thing death assailed 
 was the eyes, and next to the last, the jaws. This he interpreted to 
 be a clear expression of the intention of nature, that every man might 
 regulate, by his own volition, whatever was to be admitted into the 
 sanctuary of his mouth ; consequently, if the guest proved unpalata- 
 ble, he had no one to blame but- himself. The surgeon, who was 
 well acquainted with these views of his patient, beheld him, as he 
 
138 
 
 THE SPY, 
 
 cavalierly turned his back on Mason and himself, with a commise- 
 rating contempt, replaced in their leathern repository the phials he 
 had exhibited, with a species of care that was allied to veneration, 
 gave the saw, as he concluded, a whirl of triumph, and departed, 
 without condescending to notice the compliment of the trooper. 
 Mason, finding, by the breathing of the Captain, that his own good- 
 night would be unheard, hastened to pay his respects to the ladies — 
 after which he mounted, and followed the troop at the top of his 
 horse’s speed. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 On some fond breast the parting soul relies, 
 
 Some pious drops the closing eye requires 
 E’en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, 
 
 E’en in our ashes live their wonted fires. 
 
 Gray 
 
 The possessions of Mr. Wharton extended to some distance on each 
 side of the house in which he dwelt, and most of his land was unoc- 
 cupied. A few scattered dwellings were to be seen in different parts 
 of his domains, but they were fast falling to decay, and were unten- 
 anted. The proximity of the country to the contending armies had 
 nearly banished the pursuits of agriculture from the land. It was 
 useless for the husbandman to devote his time, and the labour of his 
 hands, to obtain overflowing garners, that the first foraging party 
 would empty. None tilled the earth with any other view than to 
 provide the scanty means of subsistence, except those who were 
 placed so near to one of the adverse parties as to be safe from the 
 inroads of the light troops of the other. To these the war offered a 
 golden harvest, more especially to such as enjoyed the benefits of an 
 access to the royal army. Mr. Wharton did not require the use of 
 his lands for the purposes of subsistence ; and he willingly adopted 
 the guarded practice of the day, limiting his attention to such articles 
 as were soon to be consumed within his own walls, or could be easily 
 secreted from the prying eyes of the foragers. In consequence, the 
 ground on which the action was fought had not a single inhabited 
 building, besides the one belonging to the father of Harvey Birch. 
 
140 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 This house stood between the place where the cavalry had met, and 
 that where the charge had been made on the party of Wellmere. 
 
 To Katy Haynes it had been a day fruitful of incidc nts. The 
 prudent housekeeper had kept her political feelings in a state of rigid 
 neutrality; her own friends had espoused the cause of the country, 
 but the maiden herself never lost sight of that important moment, 
 when, like females of more illustrious hopes, she might be required 
 to sacrifice her love of country on the altar of domestic harmony. 
 And yet, notwithstanding all her sagacity, there were moments when 
 the good woman had grievous doubts into which scale she ought to 
 throw the weight of her eloquence, in order to be certain of support- 
 ing the cause favoured by the pedler. There was so much that was 
 equivocal in his movements and manner, that often, when, in the 
 privacy of their household, she was about to utter a philippic on 
 Washington and his followers, discretion sealed her mouth, and dis- 
 trust beset her mind. In short, the whole conduct of the mysterious 
 being she studied was of a character to distract the opinions of one 
 who took a more enlarged view of men and life than came within the 
 competency of his housekeeper. 
 
 The battle of the Plains had taught the cautious Washington the 
 advantages his enemy possessed in organisation, arms, and discipline. 
 These were difficulties to be mastered by his own vigilance and care. 
 Drawing off his troops to the heights, in the northern part of the 
 county, he had bidden defiance to the attacks of the royal army, and 
 Sir William Howe fell back to the enjoyment of his barren conquest 
 — a deserted city. Never afterwards did the opposing armies make 
 the trial of strength within the limits of West-Chester ; yet hardly a 
 day passed, that the partisans did not make their inroads ; or a sun 
 rise, that the inhabitants were spared the relation of excesses which 
 the preceding darkness had served to conceal. Most of the move- 
 ments of the pedler were made at the hours which others allotted to 
 repose. The evening sun would frequently leave him at one extre- 
 mity of the county, and the morning find him at the other. His 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 141 
 
 pack was his never-failing companion; and then * were those who 
 closely studied him, in his moments of traffic, and thought his only 
 purpose was the accumulation of gold. He woidd be often seen near 
 the Highlands, with a body bending under its load ; and again near 
 the Harlaem river, travelling with lighter steps, with his face towards 
 the setting sun. But these glances at him were uncertain and fleet- 
 ing. The intermediate time no eye could penetrate. For months 
 he disappeared, and no traces of his course were ever known. 
 
 Strong parties held the heights of Harlaem, and the northern end 
 of Manhattan Island was bristling with the bayonets of the English 
 sentinels, yet the pedler glided among them unnoticed and uninjured. 
 His approaches to the American lines were also frequent ; but gene- 
 rally so conducted as to baffle pursuit. Many a sentinel, placed in 
 the gorges of the mountains, spoke of a strange figure that had been 
 seen gliding by them in the mists of the evening. These stories 
 reached the ears of the officers, and, as we have related, in two in- 
 stances the trader had fallen into the hands of the Americans. The 
 first time he had escaped from Lawton, shortly after his arrest; but 
 the second he was condemned to die. On the morning of his in- 
 tended execution, the cage was opened, but the bird had flown. This 
 extraordinary escape had been made from the custody of a favourite 
 officer of Washington, and sentinels who had been thought worthy 
 to guard the person of the Commander-in-chief. Bribery and trea- 
 son could not be imputed to men sc well esteemed, and the opinion 
 gained ground among the common soldiery, that the pedler had deal- 
 ings with the dark one. Katy, however, always repelled this opinion 
 with indignation; for within the recesses of her own bosom, the 
 housekeeper, in ruminating on the events, concluded that the evil 
 spirit did not pay in gold. Nor, continued the wary spinster in her 
 cogitations, does Washington; paper and promises were all that the 
 leader of the American troops could dispense to his servants. After 
 the alliance with France, when silver became more abundant in the 
 country, although the scrutinising eyes of Katy never let any oppor- 
 
142 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 tunity of examining into the deer-skin purse pass unimproved, she 
 was never able to detect the image of Louis intruding into the pre- 
 sence of the well-known countenance of George III. In short, the 
 secret hoard of Harvey sufficiently showed in its contents that all its 
 contributions had been received from the British. 
 
 The house of Birch had been watched at different times by the 
 Americans, with a view to his arrest, but never with success ; the 
 reputed spy possessing a secret means of intelligence, that invariably 
 defeated their schemes. Once, when a strong body of the conti- 
 nental army held the Four Corners for a whole summer, orders had 
 been received from Washington himself, never to leave the door of 
 Harvey Birch unwatched. The command was rigidly obeyed, and 
 during this long period the pedler was unseen ; the detachment was 
 withdrawn, and the following night Birch re-entered his dwelling. 
 The father of Harvey had been greatly molested, in consequence of 
 the suspicious character of the son. But, notwithstanding the most 
 minute scrutiny into the conduct of the old man, no fact could be 
 substantiated against him to his injury, and his property was too 
 small to keep alive the zeal of patriots by profession. Its confisca- 
 tion and purchase would not have rewarded their trouble. Age and 
 sorrow were now about to spare him further molestation, for the 
 lamp of life had been drained of its oil. The recent separation of 
 the father and son had been painful, but they had submitted in obe- 
 dience to what both thought a duty. The old man had kept his 
 dying situation a secret from the neighbourhood, in the hope that he 
 might still have the company of his child in his last moments. 
 The confusion of the day, and his increasing dread that Harvey 
 might be too late, helped to hasten the event he would fain arrest 
 for a little while. As night set in, his illness increased to such a 
 degree, that the dismayed housekeeper sent a truant boy, who had 
 shut up himself with them, during the combat, to the Locusts, in 
 quest of a companion to cheer her solitude. Caesar, alone, could be 
 .spared, and, loaded with eatables and cordials by the kind-hearted 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 143 
 
 Miss Peyton, th? black had been despatched on this duty. The 
 dying man was past the use of medicines, and his chief anxiety 
 seemed to centre in a meeting with his child. 
 
 The noise of the chase had been heard by the group in the house, 
 but its cause was not understood ; and as both the black and Katy 
 were apprised of the detachment of American horse being below 
 them, they supposed it to proceed from the return of that party. 
 They heard the dragoons, as they moved slowly by the building; 
 but in compliance with the prudent injunction of the black, the 
 housekeeper forbore to indulge her curiosity. The old man had 
 closed his eyes, and his attendants believed him to be asleep. The 
 house contained two large rooms, and as many small ones. One of 
 the former served for kitchen and sitting-room ; in the other lay the 
 father of Birch ; of the latter, one was the sanctuary of the vestal, 
 and the other contained the stock of provisions. A huge chimney 
 of stone rose in the centre, serving, of itself, for a partition between 
 the larger rooms; and fire-places of corresponding dimensions were 
 in each apartment. A bright flame was burning in that of the 
 common room, and within the very jambs of its monstrous jaws sat 
 Caesar and Katy, at the time of which we write. The African was 
 impressing his caution on the housekeeper, and commenting on the 
 general danger of indulging an idle curiosity. 
 
 u Best nebber tempt a Satan,” said Caesar, rolling up his eyes till 
 the whites glistened by the glare of the fire ; u I berry like heself to 
 lose an ear for carrying a little bit of a letter; dere much mischief 
 come of curiosity. If dere had nebber been a man curious to see 
 Africa, dere would be no coulour people out of deir own country : 
 but I wish Harvey get back.” 
 
 “ It is very disregardful in him to be away at such a time,” said 
 Katy, imposingly. u Suppose now his father wanted to make his 
 last will in the testament, who is there to do so solemn and awful 
 an act for him ? Harvey is a very wasteful and a very disregardful 
 man !” 
 
144 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 a perhap he make him afore ?” 
 
 “ It would not be a wonderment if he had,” returned the house- 
 keeper; " he is whole days looking into the Bible.” 
 
 “ Then he read a berry good book,” said the black, solemnly, 
 u Miss Fanny read in him to Dinah now and den.” 
 
 u You are right, Caesar. The Bible is the best of books, and one 
 that reads it as often as Harvey’s father should have the best of 
 reasons for so doing. This is no more than common sense.” 
 
 She rose from her seat, and stealing softly to a chest of drawers 
 in the room of the sick man, she took from it a large Bible, heavily 
 bound, and secured with strong clasps of brass, with which she re- 
 turned to the negro. The volume was eagerly opened, and they 
 proceeded instantly to examine its pages. Katy was far from an 
 expert scholar, and to Caesar the characters were absolutely stran- 
 gers. For some time the housekeeper was occupied in finding out 
 the word Matthew, in which she had no sooner succeeded than she 
 pointed out the word, with great complacency, to the attentive 
 Caesar. 
 
 “ Berry well, now look him t’rough,” said the black, peeping over 
 die housekeeper’s shoulder, as he held a long, lank candle of yellow 
 tallow, in such a manner as to throw its feeble light on the volume. 
 
 “ Yes, but I must begin with the very beginning of the book,” 
 replied the other, turning the leaves carefully back, until, moving 
 two at once, she lighted upon a page covered with writing. u Here,” 
 said the housekeeper, shaking with the eagerness of expectation, 
 “ here are the very words themselves ; now I would give the world 
 itself to know whom he has left the big silver shoe-buckles to.” 
 
 “ Bead ’em,” said Caesar, laconically. 
 
 “ And the black walnut drawers ; for Harvey could never want 
 furniture of that quality, as long as he is a bachelor !” 
 
 “ Why he no want ’em as well as he fader ?” 
 u And the six silver table-spoons ; Harvey always uses the iron !” 
 “ P’r’ap he say, widout so much talk,” returned the sententious 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 145 
 
 black, pointing one of his crooked and dingy fingers at the open 
 volume. 
 
 Thus repeatedly advised, and impelled by her own curiosity, Katy 
 began to read. Anxious to come to the part which most interested 
 herself, she dipped at once into the centre of the subject. 
 
 u Chester Birch , horn September 1st , 1755,” — read the spinster, 
 with a deliberation that did no great honour to her scholarship. 
 
 “ Well, what he gib him ?” 
 
 “Abigail Birch , born July 12th , 1757,” — continued the house- 
 keeper, in the same tone. 
 
 “ I t’ink he ought to gib her 'e spoon.” 
 
 “June 1st , 1760. On this awful day , the judgment of an of- 
 fended God lighted on my house — a heavy groan from the ad- 
 joining room made the spinster instinctively close the volume, and 
 Caesar, for a moment, shook with fear. Neither possessed sufficient 
 resolution to go and examine the condition of the sufferer, but his 
 heavy breathing continued as usual. Katy dare not, however, re- 
 open the Bible, and carefully securing its clasps, it was laid on the 
 table in silence. Caesar took his chair again, and after looking 
 timidly round the room, remarked — 
 
 “ I t' ought he time war’ come !” 
 
 “ No,” said Katy, solemnly, “ he will live till the tide is out, or 
 the first cock crows in the morning.” 
 
 “ Poor man !” continued the black, nestling still farther into the 
 chimney-corner, “ I hope he lay quiet after he die.” 
 
 “ ’T would be no astonishment to me if he didn't; for they say 
 an unquiet life makes an uneasy grave.” 
 
 “ Johnny Birch a berry good man in he way. All mankind can't 
 be a minister ; for if he do, who would be a congregation ?” 
 
 “Ah! Caesar, he is good only who does good — can you tell me 
 why honestly gotten gold should be hidden in the bowels of the 
 3arth !” 
 
 7 
 
THE STY. 
 
 146 
 
 “ Grach ! — I t’ink it must be to keep t ? e Skinner from findin > 
 him ; if he know where he be, why don’t he dig him up ?” 
 
 “ There may be reasons not comprehendible to you/’ said Katy, 
 moving her chair so that her clothes covered the charmed stone, 
 underneath which lay the secret treasures of the pedler, unable to 
 refrain speaking of that which she would have been very unwilling 
 to reveal; “but a rough outside often holds a smooth inside.” 
 Caesar stared around the building, unable to fathom the hidden 
 meaning of his companion, when his roving eyes suddenly became 
 fixed, and his teeth chattered with affright. The change in the 
 countenance of the black was instantly perceived by Katy, and turn- 
 ing her face, she saw the pedler himself, standing within the door 
 of the room. 
 
 “ Is he alive ?” asked Birch, tremulously, and seemingly afraid 
 to receive the answer. 
 
 “ Surely,” said Katy, rising hastily, and officiously offering her 
 chair; “he must live till day, or till the tide is down.” 
 
 Disregarding all but the fact that his father still lived, the pedler 
 stole gently into the room of his dying parent. The tie which 
 bound the father and son was of no ordinary kind. In the wide 
 world they were all to each other. Had Katy but read a few lines 
 farther in the record, she would have seen the sad tale of their mis- 
 fortunes. At one blow competence and kindred had been swept 
 from them, and from that day to the present hour, persecution and 
 distress had followed their wandering steps. Approaching the bed- 
 side, Harvey leaned his body forward, and, in a voice nearly choked 
 by his feelings, he whispered near the ear of the sick — 
 
 “ Father, do you know me ?” 
 
 The parent slowly opened his eyes, and a smile of satisfaction 
 passed over liis pallid features, leaving behind it the impression of 
 death, more awful by the contrast. The pedler gave a restorative 
 he had brought with him to the parched lips of the sick man, and 
 for a few minutes new vigour seemed imparted to his frame. He 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 147 
 
 spoke, but slowly, and with difficulty. Curiosity kept Katy silent; 
 awe had the same effect on Caesar ; and Harvey seemed hardly to 
 breathe, as he listened to the language of the departing spirit. 
 
 “ My son,” said the father in a hollow voice, u God is as merciful 
 as he is just : if I threw the cup of salvation from my lips when a 
 youth, he graciously offers it to me in mine age. He has chastised 
 to purify, and I go to join the spirits of our lost family. In a little 
 while, my child, you will be alone. I know you too well not 
 to foresee you will be a pilgrim through life. The bruised reed may 
 endure, but it will never rise. You have that within you, Harvey, 
 that will guide you aright ; persevere, as you have begun, for the 
 duties of life are never to be neglected — and” — A noise in the 
 adjoining room interrupted the dying man, and the impatient pedler 
 hastened to learn the cause, followed by Katy and the black. The 
 first glance of his eye on the figure in the doorway told the trader 
 but too well his errand, and the fate that probably awaited himself. 
 The intruder was a man still young in years, but his lineaments 
 bespoke a mind long agitated by evil passions. His dress was of 
 the meanest materials, and so ragged and unseemly, as to give him 
 the appearance of studied poverty. His hair was prematurely 
 whitened, and his sunken, lowering eye, avoided the bold, forward 
 look of innocence. There was a restlessness in his movements, and 
 an agitation in his manner, that proceeded from the workings of the 
 foul spirit within him, and which was not less offensive to others 
 than distressing to himself. This man was a well-known leader of 
 one of those gangs of marauders who infested the county with a sem- 
 blance of patriotism, and who were guilty of every grade of offence, 
 from simple theft up to murder. Behind him stood several other 
 figures clad in a similar manner, but whose countenances expressed 
 nothing more than the indifference of brutal insensibility. They 
 were all well armed with muskets and bayonets, and provided with 
 the usual implements of foot-soldiers. Harvey knew resistance to 
 be vain, and quietly submitted to their directions. In the twinkling 
 
143 
 
 IHE SPY. 
 
 of an eye both he and Caesar were stripped of their decent garments, 
 and made to exchange clothes with two of the filthiest of the band. 
 They were then placed in separate corners of the room, and, undei 
 the muzzles of the muskets, required faithfully to answer such inter- 
 rogatories as were put to them. 
 
 “ Where is your pack ?” was the first question to the pedler. 
 
 “ Hear me,” said Birch, trembling with agitation ; “ in the next 
 room is my father, now in the agonies of death ; let me go to him, 
 receive his blessing, and close his eyes, and you shall have ail — 
 
 ay, all ” 
 
 “ Answer me as I put the questions, or this musket shall send 
 you to keep the old driveller company : — where is your pack ?” 
 
 “ I will tell you nothing, unless you let me go to my father,” said 
 the pedler, resolutely. 
 
 His persecutor raised his arm with a malicious sneer, and was 
 about to execute his threat, when one of his companions checked 
 him. 
 
 “What would you do?” he said, “you surely forget the reward. 
 Tell us where are your goods, and you shall go to your father.” 
 
 Birch complied instantly, and a man was despatched in quest of 
 the booty; he soon returned, throwing the bundle on the floor, 
 swearing it was as light as feathers. 
 
 “ Ay,” cried the leader, “ there must be gold somewhere for what 
 it did contain. Give us your gold, Mr. Birch ; we know you have 
 it ; you will not take continental, not you.” 
 
 “ You break your faith,” said Harvey. 
 
 “ Give us your gold,” exclaimed the other, furiously, pricking the 
 pedler with his bayonet until the blood followed his pushes in 
 streams. At this instant a slight movement was heard in the ad- 
 joining room, and Harvey cried imploringly — 
 
 “Let me — let me go to my father, and you shall have all.” 
 
 “ I swear you shall go then,” said the Skinner. 
 
 “ Here, take the trash,” cried Birch, as he threw aside the purse, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 14 y 
 
 which he had contrived to conceal, notwithstanding the change in 
 his garments. 
 
 The robber raised it from the floor with a hellish laugh. 
 
 “ Ay, but it shall be to your father in heaven.” 
 
 “ Monster ! have you no feeling, no faith, no honesty ?” 
 
 “ To hear him, one would think there was not a rope around his 
 neck already,” said the other, laughing. “ There is no necessity for 
 your being uneasy, Mr. Birch ; if the old man gets a few hours the 
 start of you in the journey, you will be sure to follow him before 
 noon to-morrow.” 
 
 This unfeeling communication had no effect on the pedler, who 
 listened with gasping breath to every sound from the room of his 
 parent, until he heard his own name spoken in the hollow, sepul- 
 chral tones of death. Birch could endure no more, but shrieking 
 out — 
 
 “ Father ! hush — father ! I come — I come :” he darted by his 
 keeper, and was the next moment pinned to the wall by the bayonet 
 of another of the band. Fortunately, his quick motion had caused 
 him to escape a thrust aimed at his life, and it was by his clothes 
 only that he was confined. 
 
 “No, Mr. Birch,” said the Skinner, “we know you too well for a 
 slippery rascal, to trust you out of sight — your gold, your gold !” 
 
 “You have it,” said the pedler, writhing with agony. 
 
 “ Ay, we have the purse, but you have more purses. King George 
 is a prompt paymaster, and you have done him many a piece of good 
 service. Where is your hoard ? without it you will never see your 
 father.” 
 
 “Bemove the stone underneath the woman,” cried the pedler, 
 eagerly — “ remove the stone.” 
 
 “ He raves ! he raves V said Katy, instinctively moving her posh 
 tion to a different stone from the one on which she had been stand- 
 ing. In a moment it was torn from its bed, and nothing but earth 
 was seen beneath. 
 
150 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u He raves ! you have driven him from his right mind,” continued 
 the trembling spinster ; “ would any man in his senses keep gold 
 under a hearth ?” 
 
 “ Peace, babbling fool !” cried Harvey. “ Lift the corner stone, 
 and you will find that which will make you rich, and me a beggar.” 
 
 u Amd then you will be despisable,” said the housekeeper, bit- 
 terly. u A pedler without goods and without money is sure to be 
 despisable.” 
 
 “ There will be enough left to pay for his halter,” cried the Skin- 
 ner, who was not slow to follow the instructions of Harvey, soon 
 lighting upon a store of English guineas. The money was quickly 
 transferred to a bag, notwithstanding the declarations of the spinster, 
 that her dues were unsatisfied, and that, of right, ten of the guineas 
 were her property. 
 
 Delighted with a prize that greatly exceeded their expectations, 
 the band prepared to depart, intending to take the pedler with them, 
 in order to give him up to the American troops above, and to claim 
 the reward offered for his apprehension. Every thing was ready, 
 and they were about to lift Birch in their arms, for he resolutely 
 refused to move an inch, when a form appeared in their midst, 
 which appalled the stoutest heart among them. The father had 
 arisen from his bed, and he tottered forth at the cries of his son. 
 Around his body was thrown the sheet of the bed, and his fixed eye 
 and haggard face gave him the appearance of a being from another 
 world. Even Katy and Caesar thought it was the spirit of the elder 
 Birch, and they fled the house, followed by the alarmed Skinners in 
 a body. 
 
 The excitement, which had given the sick man strength, soon 
 vanished, and the pedler, lifting him in his arms, re-conveyed him 
 to his bed. The re-action of the system which followed hastened to 
 close the scene. 
 
 The glazed eye of the father was fixed upon the son ; his lips 
 moved, but his voice was unheard. Harvey bent down, and, with 
 
THE S P V . 
 
 151 
 
 the parting breath of his parent, received his dying benediction. A 
 life of privation, and of wrongs, embittered most of the future hours 
 of the pedler. But under no sufferings, in no misfortunes, the 
 subject of poverty and obloquy, the remembrance of that blessing 
 never left him ; it constantly gleamed over the images of the past, 
 shedding a holy radiance around his saddest hours of despondency ; 
 it cheered the prospect of the future with the prayers of a pious 
 spirit ; and it brought the sweet assurance of having faithfully and 
 truly discharged the sacred offices of filial love. 
 
 The retreat of Caesar and the spinster had been too precipitate to 
 admit of much calculation ; yet they themselves instinctively sepa- 
 rated from the Skinners. After fleeing a short distance they paused, 
 and the maiden commenced in a solemn voice — 
 
 “ Oh ! Caesar, was it not dreadful to walk before he had been laid 
 in his grave ! It must have been the money that disturbed him : 
 they say Captain Kidd walks near the spot where he buried gold 
 in the old war.” 
 
 “I neber t’ink Johnny Birch hab such a big eye!” said the 
 African, his teeth yet chattering with the fright. 
 
 “ I’m sure ’twould be a botherment to a living soul to lose so 
 much money. Harvey will be nothing but an utterly despisable, 
 poverty-stricken wretch. I wonder who he thinks would be even 
 his housekeeper !” 
 
 “Maybe a spooke take away Harvey, too,” observed Caesar, 
 moving still nearer to the side of the maiden. But a new idea had 
 seized the imagination of the spinster. She thought it not improba- 
 ble that the prize had been forsaken in the confusion of the retreat ; 
 and after deliberating and reasoning for some time with Caesar, they 
 determined to venture back, and ascertain this important fact, and, 
 if possible, learn what had been the fate of the pedler. Much time 
 was spent in cautiously approaching the dreaded spot ; and as the 
 spinster had sagaciously placed herself in the line of the retreat of the 
 Skinners, every ston 1 . was examined in the progress in search of the 
 

 THE SPY. 
 
 abandoned gold. But although the suddenness of the alarm and the 
 cry of Caesar had impelled the freebooters to so hasty a retreat, they 
 grasped the hoard with a hold that death itself would not have 
 loosened. Perceiving every thing to be quiet within ; Katy at length 
 mustered resolution to enter the dwelling, where she found the 
 pedler, with a heavy heart, performing the last sad offices for the 
 dead. A few words sufficed to explain to Katy the nature of her 
 mistake; but Caesar continued to his dying day to astonish the 
 sable inmates of the kitchen with learned dissertations on spookes , 
 and to relate how direful was the appearance of that of Johnny 
 Birch. 
 
 The danger compelled the pedler to abridge even the short period 
 that American custom leaves the deceased with us ; and, aided by 
 the black and Katy, his painful task was soon ended. Caesar volun- 
 teered to walk a couple of miles with orders to a carpenter ; and, the 
 body being habited in its ordinary attire, was left, with a sheet 
 thrown decentty over it, to await the return of the messenger. 
 
 The Skinners had lied precipitately to the wood, which was but a 
 short distance from the house of Birch, and once safely sheltered 
 within its shades, they halted, and mustered their panic-stricken 
 forces. 
 
 “ What in the name of fury seized your coward hearts?” cried 
 their dissatisfied leader, drawing his breath heavily. 
 
 “ The same question might be asked yourself,” returned one of 
 the band, sullenly. 
 
 “ From your fright, I thought a party of De Fancy's men were 
 upon us. Oh ! you are brave gentlemen at a race !” 
 
 “We follow our Captain.” 
 
 “ Then follow me back, and let us secure the scoundrel, and re- 
 ceive the reward.” 
 
 “Yes; and by the time we reach the house, that black rascal 
 will have the mad Virginian upon us : by my soul, I would rather 
 meet fifty Cow-Boys than that single man.” 
 
THE S f Y. 
 
 153 
 
 “ Fool !” cried the enraged leader, u don’t you know Dunwoodie’s 
 horse are at the Corners, full two miles from here V 9 
 
 u I care not where the dragoons are, hut 1 will swear that I saw 
 Captain Lawton enter the house of old Wharton, while I lay watch- 
 ing an opportunity of getting the British Colonel’s horse from the 
 stable.” 
 
 u And if he should come, won’t a bullet silence a dragoon from 
 the south as well as one from old England ?’” 
 
 “ Ay, but I don’t choose a hornet’s nest about my ears; rase the 
 skin of one of that corps, and you will never see another peaceable 
 night’s foraging again.” 
 
 “Well,” muttered the leader, as they retired deeper into the 
 wood, “ this sottish pedler will stay to see the old devil buried ; and 
 though we cannot touch him at the funeral (for that would raise 
 every old woman and priest in America against us), he ’ll wait to 
 look after the movables, and to-morrow night shall wind up his con- 
 cerns.” 
 
 With this threat they withdrew to one of their usual places of 
 resort, until darkness should again give them an opportunit}” of 
 marauding on the community without danger of detection. 
 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 O wo ! O woful, woful, woful day ! 
 
 Most lamentable day : most woful day, 
 
 That ever, ever, I did yet behold ! 
 
 O day ! O day ! O day ! O hateful day ! 
 
 Never was seen so black a day as this : 
 
 O woful day ! O woful day ! 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The family at the Locusts had slept, or watched, through all the 
 disturbances at the cottage of Birch, in perfect ignorance of their 
 occurrence. The attacks of the Skinners were always made with so 
 much privacy as to exclude the sufferers, not only from succour, but 
 frequently, through a dread of future depredations, from the com- 
 miseration of their neighbours also. Additional duties had drawn 
 the ladies from their pillows at an hour somewhat earlier than usual ; 
 and Captain Lawton, notwithstanding the sufferings of his body, had 
 risen in compliance with a rule from which he never departed, of 
 sleeping but six hours at a time. This was one of the few points, 
 in which the care of the human frame was involved, on which the 
 trooper and the surgeon of horse were ever known to agree. The 
 doctor had watched, during the night, by the side of the bed of 
 Captain Singleton, without once closing his eyes. Occasionally he 
 would pay a visit to the wounded Englishman, who, being more 
 hurt in the spirit than in the flesh, tolerated the interruptions with 
 a very ill grace ; and once, for an instant, he ventured to steal softly 
 to the bed of his obstinate comrade, and was near succeeding in ob- 
 taining a touch of his pulse, when a terrible oath, sworn by the 
 
T HE SPY. 
 
 150 
 
 trooper in a dream, startled the prudent surgeon, and warned him 
 of a trite saying in the corps, “that Captain Lawton always slept 
 with one eye open.” This group had assembled in one of the par- 
 lours as the sun made its appearance over the eastern hill, dispersing 
 the columns of fog which had enveloped the low land. 
 
 Miss Peyton was looking from a window in the direction of the 
 tenement of the pedler, and was expressing a kind anxiety after the 
 welfare of the sick man, when the person of Katy suddenly emerged 
 from the dense covering of an earthly cloud, whose mists were scat- 
 tering before the cheering rays of the sun, and was seen making 
 hasty steps towards the Locusts. There was that in the air of the 
 housekeeper which bespoke distress of an unusual nature, and the 
 kind-hearted mistress of the Locusts opened the door of the room, 
 with the benevolent intention of soothing a grief that seemed so over- 
 whelming. A nearer view of the disturbed features of the visitor 
 confirmed Miss Peyton in her belief ; and, with the shock that gen- 
 tle feelings ever experience at a sudden and endless separation from 
 even the meanest of their associates, she said hastily — 
 
 “ Katy, is he gone ?” 
 
 “No, ma’am,” replied the disturbed damsel, with great bitterness, 
 “he is not yet gone, but he may go as soon as he pleases now, for 
 the worst is done. I do verily believe, Miss Peyton, they have n’t 
 so much as left him money enough to buy him another suit of clothes 
 to cover his nakedness, and those he has on are none of the best, I 
 can tell you.” 
 
 “ How,” exclaimed the other, astonished, “ could any one have 
 the heart to plunder a man in such distress ?” 
 
 “ Hearts !” repeated Katy, catching her breath; “men like them 
 have no bowels at all. Plunder and distress, indeed ! Why, ma’am, 
 there were in the iron pot, in plain sight, fifty-four guineas of gold, 
 besides what lay underneath, which I could n’t count without han- 
 dling} and I didn’t like to touch it. for they say that another’s gold 
 is apt to stick — so, judging from that in sight, there wasn’t less 
 
1 0(j 
 
 T H E SPY. 
 
 than two hundred guineas, besides what might have been in the deer- 
 skin purse. But Harvey is little better now than a beggar ; and a 
 beggar, Miss Jeanette, is the most awfully despisable of all earthly 
 creatures.” 
 
 “ Poverty is to be pitied, and not despised,” said the lady, still 
 unable to comprehend the extent of the misfortune that had befallen 
 her neighbour during the night. u But how is the old man ? and 
 does this loss affect him much?” 
 
 The countenance of Katy changed, from the natural expression of 
 concern, to the set form of melancholy, as she answered — 
 
 “ He is happily removed from the cares of the world ; the chink- 
 ing of the money made him get out of his bed, and the poor soul 
 found the shock too great for him. He died about two hours and 
 ten minutes before the cock crowed, as near as we can say ;” — she 
 was interrupted by the physician, who, approaching, enquired, with 
 much interest, the nature of the disorder. Glancing her eye over 
 the figure of this new acquaintance, Katy, instinctively adjusting her 
 dress, replied — 
 
 “ *T was the troubles of the times, and the loss of property, that 
 brought him down ; he wasted from day to day, and all my care and 
 anxiety were lost ; for now Harvey is no better than a beggar, and 
 who is there to pay me for what I have done?” 
 
 “ God will reward you for all the good you have done,” said Miss 
 Peyton, mildly. 
 
 u Yes,” interrupted the spinster hastily, and with an air of reve- 
 rence that was instantly succeeded by an expression that denoted 
 more of worldly care ; u but then I have left my wages for three 
 years past in the hands of Harvey, and how am I to get them ? My 
 brothers told me, again and again, to ask for my money; but I al- 
 ways thought accounts between relations were easily settled.” 
 
 u Were you related, then, to Birch?” asked Miss Peyton, observ- 
 ing her to pause. 
 
 Why, returned the housekeeper, hesitating a little, “I thought 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 157 
 
 we were as good as so. I wonder if I have no claim on the house 
 and garden ; though they say, now it is Harvey’s, it will surely he 
 confisticated ;” turning to Lawton, who had been sitting in one pos- 
 ture, with his piercing eyes lowering at her through his thick brows, 
 in silence, “ perhaps this gentleman knows — he seems to take an 
 interest in iny story.” 
 
 “ Madam,” said the trooper, bowing very low, “ both you and the 
 tale are extremely interesting” — Katy smiled involuntarily — “but 
 my humble knowledge is limited to the setting of a squadron in the 
 field, and using it when there. I beg leave to refer you to Hr. Ar- 
 chibald Sitgreaves, a gentleman of universal attainments, and un- 
 bounded philanthropy; the very milk of human sympathies, and a 
 mortal foe to all indiscriminate cutting.” 
 
 “ The surgeon drew up, and employed himself in whistling a low 
 air, as he looked over some phials on a table ; but the housekeeper, 
 turning to him with an inclination of the head, continued — 
 
 “ I suppose, sir, a woman has no dower in her husband’s property, 
 unless they be actually married ?” 
 
 It was a maxim with Hr. Sitgreaves, that no species of knowledge 
 was to be despised ; and, consequently, he was an empiric in every 
 thing but his profession. At first, indignation at the irony of his 
 comrade kept him silent; but, suddenly changing his purpose, he 
 answered the applicant with a good-natured smile — 
 
 “ I judge not. If death has anticipated your nuptials, I am fear- 
 ful you have no remedy against his stern decrees.” 
 
 To Katy this sounded well, although she understood nothing of 
 its meaning, but “death” and “nuptials.” To this part of his 
 speech, then, she directed her reply. 
 
 “ I did think he only waited the death of the old gentleman before 
 he married,” said the housekeeper, looking on the carpet; “but now 
 he is nothing more than despisable, or, what’s the same thing, a 
 pedler without house, pack, or money. It might be hard for a man 
 
158 
 
 T HE SPY. 
 
 to get a wife at all in sucli a predicary — don’t you think it would, 
 Miss Peyton?” 
 
 “I seldom trouble myself with such things/’ said the lady 
 gravely. 
 
 During this dialogue Captain Lawton had been studying the coun- 
 tenance and manner of the housekeeper, with a most ludicrous gra- 
 vity; and, fearful the conversation would cease, he enquired, with 
 an appearance of great interest — 
 
 “ You think it was age and debility that removed the old gentle- 
 man at last?” 
 
 “And the troublesome times. Trouble is a heavy pull-down to a 
 sick-bed ; but I suppose his time had come, and when that happens, 
 it matters but little what doctor’s stuff we take.” 
 
 “Let me set you right in that particular,” interrupted the sur- 
 geon ; “we must all die, it is true, but it is permitted us to use the 
 lights of science, in arresting dangers as they occur, until — ” 
 
 “We can die secundum artem ,” cried the trooper. 
 
 To this observation the physician did not deign to reply; but, 
 deeming it necessary to his professional dignity that the conversation 
 should continue, he added — 
 
 “ Perhaps, in this instance, judicious treatment might have pro- 
 longed the life of the patient. Who administered to the case?” 
 “No one yet,” said the housekeeper, with quickness; “I expect 
 he has made his last will in the testament.” 
 
 The surgeon disregarded the smile of the ladies, and pursued his 
 enquiries. 
 
 “It is doubtless wise to be prepared for death. But under whose 
 care was the sick man during his indisposition ?” 
 
 “ Under mine,” answered Katy, with an air of a little importance ; 
 “ and care thrown away I may well call it ; for Harvey is quite toe 
 despisable to be any sort of compensation at present.” 
 
 The mutual ignorance of each other’s meaning made very little 
 
T HE SPY. 
 
 159 
 
 interruption to the dialogue, for both took a good deal for granted, 
 and Sitgreaves pursued the subject. 
 
 “And how did you treat him ?” 
 
 “ Kindly, you may be certain,” said Katy, rather tartly. 
 
 “ The doctor means medically, madam,” observed Captain Lawton, 
 with a face that would have honoured the funeral of the deceased. 
 
 “ I doctor’d him mostly with yarbs,” said the housekeeper, smil- 
 mg, as if conscious of error. 
 
 “ With simples,” returned the surgeon ; “ they are safer in the 
 hands of the unlettered than more powerful remedies : but why had 
 you no regular attendant?” 
 
 “ I ’m sure Harvey has suffered enough already from having so 
 much concerns with the rig’lars,” replied the housekeeper; “he has 
 lost his all, and made himself a vagabond through the land ; and I 
 have reason to rue the day I ever crossed the threshold of his 
 house.” 
 
 “Dr. Sitgreaves does not mean a rig’lar soldier, but a regular 
 physician, madam,” said the trooper. 
 
 “ Oh !” cried the maiden, again correcting herself, “ for the best 
 of all reasons; there was none to be had, so I took care of him 
 myself. If there had been a doctor at hand, I am sure we would 
 gladly have had him ; for my part, I am clear for doctoring, though 
 Harvey says I am killing myself with medicines ; but I am sure it 
 will make but little difference to him, whether I live or die.” 
 
 “Therein you show your sense,” said the surgeon, approaching 
 the spinster, who sat holding the palms of her hands and the soles 
 of her feet to the genial heat of a fine fire, making the most of com- 
 fort amid all her troubles ; “ you appear to be a sensible, discreet 
 woman, and some who have had opportunities of acquiring more 
 correct views might envy you your respect for knowledge and the 
 lights of science.” 
 
 Although the housekeeper did not altogether comprehend the 
 other’s meaning, she knew he used a compliment, and as such was 
 
.60 
 
 T HE S P Y. 
 
 highly pleased with what he said ; with increase 1 animation, there- 
 fore, she cried, “ It was always said of me, that I wanted nothing 
 but opportunity to make quite a physician myself ; so long as before 
 I came to live with Harvey’s father, they called me the petticoat 
 doctor.” 
 
 “ More true than civil, I dare say,” returned the surgeon, losing 
 sight of the woman’s character in his admiration of her respect for 
 the healing art. “ In the absence of more enlightened counsellors, 
 the experience of a discreet matron is frequently of great efficacy 
 in checking the progress of disease; under such circumstances, 
 madam, it is dreadful to have to contend with ignorance and 
 obstinacy.” 
 
 “ Bad enough, as I well know from experience,” cried Katy, in 
 triumph : “ Harvey is as obstinate about such things as a dumb 
 beast; one would think the care I took of his bed-ridden father 
 might learn him better than to despise good nursing. But some 
 day he may know what it is to want a careful woman in his house, 
 though now I am sure he is too despisable himself to have a house.” 
 
 “ Indeed, I can easily comprehend the mortification you must 
 have felt in having one so self-willed to deal with,” returned the 
 surgeon, glancing his eyes reproachfully at his comrade ; “ but you 
 should rise superior to such opinions, and pity the ignorance by 
 which they are engendered.” 
 
 The housekeeper hesitated a moment, at a loss to comprehend all 
 that the surgeon expressed, yet she felt it was both complimentary 
 and kind; therefore, suppressing her natural flow of language a 
 little, she replied — 
 
 “ I tell Harvey his conduct is often condemnable, and last night 
 he made my words good; but the opinions of such unbelievers is 
 not very consequential ; yet it is dreadful to think how he behaves 
 at times : now, when he threw away the needle — ” 
 
 “What!” said the surgeon, interrupting her, “does he affect to 
 lespise the needle? But it is my lot to meet with men, daily, who 
 
THE S P r . 
 
 161 
 
 are equally perverse, and who show a still more culpable disrespect 
 for the information that flows from the lights of science.” 
 
 The doctor turned his face towards Captain Lawton while speak- 
 ing, but the elevation of the head prevented his eyes from resting on 
 the grave countenance maintained by the trooper. Katy listened 
 with admiring attention, and when the other had done, she added — 
 “ Then Harvey is a disbeliever in the tides.” 
 
 “Not believe in the tides!” repeated the healer of bodies in 
 astonishment ; “ does the man distrust his senses ? but perhaps it is 
 the influence of the moon that he doubts.” 
 
 “ That he does !” exclaimed Katy, shaking with delight at meet- 
 ing with a man of learning, who could support her favourite opinions. 
 “If you was to hear him talk, you would think he didn’t believe 
 there was such a thing as a moon at all.” 
 
 “ It is the misfortune of ignorance and incredulity, madam, that 
 they feed themselves. The mind once rejecting useful information, 
 insensibly leans to superstition and conclusions on the order of 
 nature, that are not less prejudicial to the cause of truth, than they 
 are at variance with the first principles of human knowledge.” 
 
 The spinster was too much awe-struck to ve* ture an undigested 
 reply to this speech ; and the surgeon, after pan ,ing a moment in a 
 kind of philosophical disdain, continued — 
 
 “ That any man in his senses can doubt of the flux of the tides is 
 more than I could have thought possible ; yet obstinacy is a danger- 
 ous inmate to harbour, and may lead us into any error, however 
 gross.” 
 
 “ You think, then, they have an effect on the flux,” said the 
 housekeeper, enquiringly. 
 
 Miss Peyton rose, and beckoned her nieces to give her their as- 
 sistance in the adjoining pantry, while for a moment the dark visage 
 of the attentive Lawton was lighted by an animation that vanished 
 by an effort, as powerful, and as sudden, as the one that, drew it into 
 being. 
 
162 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 After reflecting whether he rightly understood the meaning of the 
 other, the surgeon making due allowance for the love of learning, 
 acting upon a want of education, replied — 
 
 “ The moon, you mean ; many philosophers have doubted how far 
 it affects the tides; but I think it is wilfully rejecting the lights of 
 science not to believe it causes both the flux and reflux.” 
 
 As reflux was a disorder with which Katy was not acquainted, 
 she thought it prudent to be silent; yet burning with curiosity to 
 know the meaning of certain portentous lights to which the other so 
 often alluded, she ventured to ask — 
 
 “ If them lights he spoke of, were what was called northern lights 
 in these parts?” 
 
 In charity to her ignorance, the surgeon would have entered into 
 an elaborate explanation of his meaning, had he not been interrupted 
 by the mirth of Lawton. The trooper had listened so far with great 
 composure; but now he laughed until his aching bones reminded 
 him of his fall, and the tears rolled over his cheeks in larger drops 
 than had ever been seen there before. At length the offended phy- 
 sician seized an opportunity of a pause to say — 
 
 “ To you, Captain Lawton, it may be a source of triumph, that 
 an uneducated woman should make a mistake in a subject, on which 
 men of science have long been at variance ; but yet you find this 
 respectable matron does not reject the lights — does not reject the 
 use of proper instruments in repairing injuries sustained by the hu- 
 man frame. You may possibly remember, sir, her allusion to the 
 use of the needle.” 
 
 “Ay,” cried the delighted trooper, “to mend the pedler’s 
 breeches.” 
 
 Katy drew up in evident displeasure, and prompt to vindicate her 
 character for more lofty acquirements, she said — 
 
 “’Twas not a common use that I put that needle to — but one of 
 much greater virtue.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 16 a 
 
 “ Explain yourself, madam,” said the surgeon impatiently, u that 
 this gentleman may see how little reason he has for exultation.” 
 
 Thus solicited, Ivaty paused to collect sufficient eloquence to gar- 
 nish her narrative. The substance of her tale was, that a child who 
 had been placed by the guardians of the poor in the keeping of Har- 
 vey, had, in the absence of its master, injured itself badly in the 
 foot by a large needle. The offending instrument had been care- 
 fully greased, wrapped in woollen, and placed in a certain charmed 
 nook of the chimney ; while the foot, from a fear of weakening the 
 incantation, was left in a state of nature. The arrival of the pedler 
 had altered the whole of this admirable treatment; and the conse- 
 quences were expressed by Katy, as she concluded her narrative, by 
 saying — 
 
 iC ; T was no wonder the boy died of a lock-jaw !” 
 
 Doctor Sitgreaves looked out of the window in admiration of the 
 brilliant morning, striving all he could to avoid the basilisk eyes of 
 his comrade. He was impelled, by a feeling that he could not con- 
 quer, however, to look Captain Lawton in the face. The trooper 
 had arranged every muscle of his countenance to express sympathy 
 for the fate of the poor child ; but the exultation of his eyes cut the 
 astounded man of science to the quick ; he muttered something con- 
 cerning the condition of his patients, and retreated with precipitation. 
 
 Miss Peyton entered into the situation of things at the house of 
 the pedler, with all the interest of her excellent feelings ; she listened 
 patiently while Katy recounted, more particularly, the circumstances 
 of the past night as they had occurred. The spinster did not forget 
 to dwell on the magnitude of the pecuniary loss sustained by Har- 
 vey, and in no manner spared her invectives, at his betraying a secret 
 which might so easily have been kept. 
 
 “ For, Miss Peyton,” continued the housekeeper, after a pause to 
 take breath, u I would have given up life before I would have given 
 up that secre f T the most, they could only have killed him, and 
 uow a body ma -ay that they have slain both soul and body ; or, 
 
164 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 what’s the same thing, they have made him a despisahle vagabond. 
 I wonder who he thinks would be his wife, or who would keep his 
 house. For my part, my good name is too precious to he living 
 with a lone man ; though, for the matter of that, he is never there. 
 I am resolved to tell him this day, that stay there, a single woman, 
 I will not an hour, after the funeral ; and marry him I don’t think 
 I will, unless he becomes steadier, and more of a homebody.” 
 
 The mild mistress of the Locusts suffered the exuberance of the 
 housekeeper’s feeling to expend itself, and then, by one or tw r o judi- 
 cious questions, that denoted a more intimate knowledge of the 
 windings of the human heart in matters of Cupid, than might fairly 
 be supposed to belong to a spinster, she extracted enough from Katy, 
 to discover the improbability of Harvey’s ever presuming to offer 
 himself, with his broken fortunes, to the acceptance of Katharine 
 Haynes. She, therefore, mentioned her owm want of assistance in 
 the present state of her household, and expressed a wish that Katy 
 would change her residence to the Locusts, in case the pedler had 
 no further use for her services. After a few preliminary conditions 
 on the part of the wary housekeeper, the arrangement was con- 
 cluded ; and making a few more piteous lamentations on the weight 
 of her own losses, the stupidity of Harvey, united with some curio- 
 sity to know the future fate of the pedler, Katy withdrew to make 
 the necessary preparations for the approaching funeral, which was 
 to take place that day. 
 
 During the interview between the two females, Lawton, through 
 delicacy, had withdrawn. Anxiety took him to the room of Captain 
 Singleton The character of this youth, it has already been shown, 
 endeared him in a peculiar manner to every officer in the corps. 
 The singularly mild deportment of the young dragoon had, on so 
 many occasions, been proved not to proceed from want of resolution, 
 that his almost feminine softness of manner and appearance had 
 failed to bring him into disn pute, even in that band of partisan 
 warriors. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 165 
 
 To the Major he was as dear as a brother, and his easy submis- 
 sion to the directions of his surgeon had made him a marked favour- 
 ite with Dr. Sitgreaves. The rough usage the corps often received 
 in its daring attacks, had brought each of its officers, in succession, 
 under the temporary keeping of the surgeon. To Captain Singleton 
 the man of science had decreed the palm of docility, on such occa- 
 sions, and Captain Lawton he had fairly black-balled. He fre- 
 quently declared, with unconquerable simplicity and earnestness of 
 manner, that it gave him more pleasure to see the former brought 
 in wounded than any officer in the squadron, and that the latter af- 
 forded him the least ; a compliment and condemnation that were 
 usually received by the first of the parties with a quiet Smile of good 
 nature, and by the last with a grave bow of thanks. On the present 
 occasion, the mortified surgeon and exulting trooper met in the room 
 of Captain Singleton, as a place where they could act on common 
 ground. Some time was occupied in joint attentions to the comfort 
 of the wounded officer, and the doctor retired to an apartment pre- 
 pared for his own accommodation ; here, within a few minutes, he 
 was surprised by the entrance of Lawton. The triumph of the 
 trooper had been so complete, that he felt he could afford to be gen- 
 erous, and commencing by voluntarily throwing aside his coat, he 
 cried carelessly — 
 
 “ Sitgreaves, administer a little of the aid of the lights of science 
 to my body, if you please.” 
 
 The surgeon was beginning to feel this was a subject that was 
 intolerable, but venturing a glance towards his comrade, he saw with 
 surprise the preparations he had made, and an air of sincerity about 
 him, that was unusual to his manner when making such a request. 
 Changing his intended burst of resentment to a tone of civil enquiry, 
 he said — 
 
 66 Does Captain Lawton want any thing at my hands ?” 
 
 u Look for yourself, my dear sir,” said the trooper mildly; “here 
 seem to be most of the colours of the rainbow, on this shoulder.” 
 
166 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ You have reason for saying so'," said the other, handling the 
 part with great tenderness and consummate skill; but happily 
 nothing is broken. It is wonderful how well you escaped !" 
 
 “ I have been a tumbler from my youth, and I am past minding 
 a few falls from a horse ; but, Sitgreaves," he added with affection, 
 and pointing to a scar on his body, “do you remember this bit 
 of work ?" 
 
 “Perfectly well, Jack; it was bravely obtained, and neatly 
 extracted ; but don't you think I had better apply an oil to these 
 bruises ?" 
 
 “ Certainly," said Lawton, with unexpected condescension. 
 
 “ Now, my dear boy," cried the doctor, exultingly, as he busied 
 himself in applying the remedy to the hurts, “ do you not think it 
 would have been better to have done all this last night ?" 
 
 “ Quite probable." 
 
 “Yes, Jack, but if you had let me perform the operation 
 of phlebotomy when I first saw you, it would have been of infinite 
 service." 
 
 “No phlebotomy," said the other, positively. 
 
 “ It is now too late ; but a dose of oil would carry off the humours 
 famously." 
 
 To this the Captain made no reply, but grated his teeth, in a way 
 that showed the fortress of his mouth was not to be assailed without 
 a resolute resistance; and the experienced physician changed the 
 subject by saying — 
 
 “ It is a pity, John, that you did not catch the rascal, after the 
 danger and trouble you incurred." 
 
 The Captain of dragoons made no reply ; and, while placing some 
 bandages on the wounded shoulder, the surgeon continued — 
 
 “ If I have any wish at all to destroy human life, it is to have the 
 pleasure of seeing that traitor hanged." 
 
 “ I thought your business was to cure and not to slay," said the 
 trooper, drily. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 161 
 
 “ Ay ! but he has caused us such heavy losses by his informa- 
 tion, that I sometimes feel a very unphilosophical temper towards 
 that spy.” 
 
 “ You should not encourage such feelings of animosity to any of 
 your fellow-creatures,” returned Lawton, in a tone that caused the 
 operator to drop a pin he was arranging in the bandages from his 
 hand. He looked the patient in the face to remove all doubts of his 
 identity : finding, however, it was his old comrade, Captain J ohn 
 Lawton, who had spoken, he rallied his astonished faculties, and 
 proceeded by saying — 
 
 “ Your doctrine is just, and in general I subscribe to it. But, 
 John, my dear fellow, is the bandage easy?” 
 
 “ Quite.” 
 
 “ I agree with you as a whole ; but as matter is infinitely divisible, 
 so no case exists without an exception. Lawton, do you feel easy ?” 
 
 “ Very ” 
 
 “It is not only cruel to the sufferer, but sometimes unjust to 
 others, to take human life where a less punishment would answer 
 the purpose. Now, Jack, if you were only — move your arm a 
 little — if you were only — I hope you feel easier, my dear friend ?” 
 
 “ Much.” 
 
 “If, my dear John, you would teach your men to cut with more 
 discretion, it would answer you the same purpose — and give me 
 great pleasure.” 
 
 The doctor drew a heavy sigh, as he was enabled to get rid of 
 what was nearest to his heart ; and the dragoon coolly replaced his 
 coat, saying with great deliberation as he retired — 
 
 “ I know no troop that cut more judiciously ; they generally shave 
 from the crown to the jaw.” 
 
 The disappointed operator collected his instruments, and with a 
 heavy heart proceeded to pay a visit to the room of Colonel 
 Wellmere. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 This fairy form contains a soul as mighty 
 As that which lives within a giant’s frame ; 
 
 These slender limbs, that tremble like the aspen 
 At summer evening’s sigh, uphold a spirit, 
 
 Which, roused, can tower to the height of heaven. 
 
 And light those shining windows of the face 
 With much of heaven’s own radiance. 
 
 Duo. 
 
 The numlber and character of her guests had greatly added to- the 
 cares of Miss Jeanette Peyton. The morning found them all re- 
 stored, in some measure, to their former ease of body, with the ex- 
 ception of the youthful captain of dragoons, who had been so deeply 
 regretted by Dunwoodie. The wound of this officer was severe, 
 though the surgeon persevered in saying that it was without danger. 
 His comrade, we have shown, had deserted his couch ; and Henry 
 Wharton awoke from a sleep that had been undisturbed by any thing 
 but a dream of suffering amputation under the hands of a surgical 
 novice. As it proved, however, to be nothing but a dream, the youth 
 found himself much refreshed by his slumbers; and Dr. Sitgreaves 
 removed all further apprehensions by confidently pronouncing that 
 he would be a well man within a fortnight. 
 
 During all this time Colonel Wellmere did not make his appear- 
 ance ; he breakfasted in his own room, and, notwithstanding certain 
 significant smiles of the man of science, declared himself too much 
 injured to rise from his bed. Leaving him, therefore, endeavouring 
 to conceal his chagrin in the solitude of his chamber, the surgeon 
 proceeded to the more grateful task of sitting an hour by the bedside 
 
THE SPY 
 
 169 
 
 of George Singleton. A slight flush was on the face of the patient 
 as the doctor entered the room ; and the latter advanced promptly, 
 and laid his fingers on the pulse of the youth, beckoning to him to 
 be silent, while he muttered to himself — 
 
 “ Growing symptoms of a febrile pulse — no, no, my dear George, 
 you must remain quiet and dumb; though your eyes look better, 
 and your skin has even a moisture.” 
 
 “Nay, my dear Sitgreaves,” said the youth, taking his hand, “you 
 see there is no fever about me : look, is there any of Jack Lawton's 
 hoar-frost on my tongue?” 
 
 “No, indeed,” said the surgeon, clapping a spoon in the mouth of 
 the other, forcing it open, and looking down his throat as if disposed 
 to visit the interior in person ; “ the tongue is well, and the pulse 
 begins to lower again. Ah ! the bleeding did you good. Phleboto- 
 my is a sovereign specific for southern constitutions. But that mad- 
 cap Lawton obstinately refused to be blooded for a fall he had from 
 his horse last night. Why, George, youivcase is becoming singular,” 
 continued the doctor, instinctively throwing aside his wig ; “ your 
 pulse even and soft, your skin moist, but your eye fiery, and cheek 
 flushed. Oh ! I must examine more closely into these symptoms.” 
 “ Softly, my good friend, softly,” said the youth, falling back on 
 his pillow, and losing some of that colour which alarmed his compa- 
 nion ; “I believe, in extracting the ball, you did for me all that is 
 required. I am free from pain, and only weak, I do assure you.” 
 
 “ Captain Singleton,” said the surgeon, with heat, “ it is presump- 
 tuous in you to pretend to tell your medical attendant when you are 
 free from pain : if it be not to enable us to decide in such matters, 
 of what avail the lights of science ? For shame, George, for shame ! 
 even that perverse fellow, John Lawton, could not behave with more 
 obstinacy.” 
 
 His patient smiled, as he gently repulsed his physician in an at 
 tempt to undo the bandages, and, with a returning glow to his cheeks, 
 enquired — 
 
 8 
 
170 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ Do, Archibald,” — a term of endearment that seldom failed ta 
 soften the operator's heart, — “ tell me what spirit from heaven has 
 been gliding around my apartment, while I lay pretending to 
 sleep?” 
 
 “ If any one interferes with my patients,” cried the doctor, hastily, 
 “ I will teach them, spirit or no spirit, what it is to meddle with 
 another man's concerns.” 
 
 “ Tut — my dear fellow, there was no interference made, nor any 
 intended ; see,” exhibiting the bandages, “ every thing is as you left 
 it, — but it glided about the room with the grace of a fairy, and the 
 tenderness of an angel.” 
 
 “ The surgeon, having satisfied himself that every thing was as he 
 had left it, very deliberately resumed his seat and replaced his wig, 
 as he enquired, with a brevity that would have honoured Lieutenant 
 Mason — 
 
 “Had it petticoats, George?” 
 
 “I saw nothing but its heavenly eyes — its bloom — its majestic 
 step — its grace,” replied the young man, with rather more ardour 
 than his surgeon thought consistent with his debilitated condition ; 
 and he laid his hand on his mouth to stop him, saying himself — 
 
 “It must have been Miss Jeanette Peyton — a lady of fine accom- 
 plishments, with — hem — with something of the kind of step you 
 speak of — a very complacent eye; and as to the bloom, I dare say 
 offices of charity can summon as fine a colour to her cheeks, as glows 
 in the faces of her more youthful nieces.” 
 
 “ Nieces ! has she nieces, then ? The angel I saw may be a 
 daughter, a sister, or a niece, — but never an aunt.” 
 
 “ Hush, George, hush ; your talking has brought your pulse up 
 again. You must observe quiet, and prepare for a meeting with 
 your own sister, who will be here within an hour.” 
 
 “ What, Isabella ! and who sent for her ?” 
 
 “The Major.” 
 
 “ Considerate Dunwoodie !” murmured the exhausted youth, sink- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 m 
 
 ing again on his pillow, where the commands of his attendant com- 
 pelled him to remain silent. 
 
 Even Captain Lawton had been received with many and courteous 
 enquiries after the state of his health, from all the members of the 
 family, when he made his morning entrance ; but an invisible spirit 
 presided over the comforts of the English Colonel. Sarah had shrunk 
 with consciousness from entering the room ; yet she knew the posi- 
 tion of every glass, and had, with her own hands, supplied the con- 
 tents of every bowl, that stood on his table. 
 
 At the time of our tale, we were a divided people, and Sarah 
 thought it was no more than her duty to cherish the institutions of 
 that country to which she yet clung as the land of her forefathers ; 
 but there were other and more cogent reasons for the silent prefer- 
 ence she was giving to the Englishman. His image had first filled 
 the void in her youthful fancy, and it was an image that was distin- 
 guished by many of those attractions that can enchain a female 
 heart. It is true, he wanted the personal excellence of Peyton Dun- 
 woodie, but his pretensions were far from contemptible. Sarah had 
 moved about the house during the morning, casting frequent and 
 longing glances at the door of Wellmere’s apartment, anxious to 
 learn the condition of his wounds, and yet ashamed to enquire ; con- 
 scious interest kept her tongue tied, until her sister, with the frank- 
 ness of innocence, had put the desired question to Dr. Sitgreaves. 
 
 “Colonel Wellmere,” said the operator, gravely, “is in what I call 
 a state of free-will, madam. He is ill, or he is well, as he pleases. 
 His case, young lady, exceeds my art to heal ; and I take it Sir 
 Henry Clinton is the best adviser he can apply to ; though Major 
 Dunwoodie has made the communication with his leech rather dif- 
 ficult.^ 
 
 Frances smiled, but averted her face, while Sarah' moved, with 
 the grace of an offended J uno, from the apartment. Her own room, 
 however, afforded her but little relief, and in passing through the 
 long gallery that communicated with each of the chambers of the 
 
L72 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 building, she noticed the door of Singleton’s room to be open. The 
 wounded youth seemed sleeping, and was alone. She had ventured 
 lightly into the apartment, and busied herself for a few minutes in 
 arranging the tables, and the nourishment provided for the patient, 
 hardly conscious of what she was doing, and possibly dreaming that 
 these little feminine offices were performed for another. Her natu- 
 ral bloom was heightened by the insinuation of the surgeon, nor was 
 the lustre of her eye in any degree diminished. The sound of the 
 approaching footstep of Sitgreaves hastened her retreat down a pri- 
 vate stairway, to the side of her sister. The sisters then sought the 
 fresh air on the piazza ; and as they pursued their walk, arm in arm, 
 the following dialogue took place : — 
 
 “ There is something disagreeable about this surgeon of Dunwoo- 
 die,” said Sarah, “ that causes me to wish him away most heartily.” 
 Frances fixed her laughing eyes on her sister ; but forbearing to 
 speak, the other readily construed their expression, and hastily added, 
 “ But I forget he is one of your renowned corps of Virginians, and 
 must be spoken of reverently.” 
 
 “ As respectfully as you please, my dear sister ; there is but little 
 danger of exceeding the truth.” 
 
 “Not in your opinion,” said the elder, with a little warmth; 
 “ but I think Mr. Dunwoodie has taken a liberty that exceeds the 
 rights of consanguinity ; he has made our father’s house a hospital.” 
 “We ought to be grateful that none of the patients it contains are 
 dearer to us.” 
 
 “Your brother is one.” 
 
 “ True, true,” interrupted Frances, blushing to the eyes ; “ but 
 ne leaves his room, and thinks his wound lightly purchased by the 
 pleasure of being with his friends. If,” she added, with a tremulous 
 lip, “ this dreadful suspicion that is affixed to his visit were removed, 
 I could consider his wound of little moment.” 
 
 “ You now have the fruits of rebellion brought home to you ; a 
 brother wounded and a prisoner, and perhaps a victim ; your father 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 173 
 
 distressed, his privacy interrupted, and not improbably his estates 
 torn from him, on account of his loyalty to his king.” 
 
 Frances continued her walk in silence. While facing the northern 
 entrance to the vale, her eyes were uniformly fastened on the point 
 where the road was suddenly lost by the intervention of a hill ; and 
 at each turn, as she lost sight of the spot, she lingered until an im- 
 patient movement of her sister quickened her pace to an even motion 
 with that of her own. At length, a single horse-chaise was seen 
 making its way carefully among the stones which lay scattered over 
 the country road that wound through the valley, and approached the 
 cottage. The colour of Frances changed as the vehicle gradually 
 drew nearer ; and when she was enabled to see a female form in it 
 by the side of a black in livery, her limbs shook with an agitation 
 that compelled her to lean on Sarah for support. In a few minutes 
 the travellers approached the gate. It was thrown open by a 
 dragoon who followed the carriage, and who had been the messenger 
 despatched by Dunwoodie to the father of Captain Singleton. Miss 
 Peyton advanced to receive their guest, and the sisters united in 
 giving her the kindest welcome ; still Frances could with difficulty 
 withdraw her truant eyes from the countenance of their visiter. She 
 was young, and of a light and fragile form, but of exquisite propor- 
 tions. Her eye was large, full, black, piercing, and at times a little 
 wild. Her hair was luxuriant, and as it was without the powder it 
 was then the fashion to wear, it fell in raven blackness. A few of 
 its locks had fallen on her cheek, giving its chilling whiteness by the 
 contrast a more deadly character. Hr. Sitgreaves supported her 
 from the chaise ; and when she gained the floor of the piazza, she 
 turned an expressive look on the face of the practitioner. 
 
 u Your brother is out of danger, and wishes to see you, Miss Sin- 
 gleton,” said the surgeon. 
 
 The lady burst into a flood of tears. Frances had stood contem- 
 plating the action and face of Isabella with a kind of uneasy admi- 
 ration, but she now sprang to her side with the ardour of a sister, 
 
174 
 
 THE S V Y. 
 
 and kindly drawing her arm within her own, led the way to a retired 
 room. The movement was so ingenuous, so considerate, and sa 
 delicate, that even Miss Peyton withheld her interference, following 
 the youthful pair with only her eyes and a smile of complacency. 
 The feeling was communicated to all the spectators, and they dis- 
 persed in pursuit of their usual avocations. Isabella yielded to the 
 gentle influence of Frances without resistance; and, having gained 
 the room where the latter conducted her, wept in silence on the 
 shoulder of the observant and soothing girl, until Frances thought 
 her tears exceeded the emotion natural to the occasion. The sobs 
 of Miss Singleton for a time were violent and uncontrollable, until, 
 with an evident exertion, she yielded to a kind observation of her 
 companion, and succeeded in suppressing her tears. Raising her 
 face to the eyes of Frances, she rose, while a smile of beautiful 
 radiance passed over her features ; and making a hasty apology for 
 the excess of her emotion, she desired to be conducted to the room 
 of the invalid. 
 
 The meeting between the brother and sister was warm, but, by 
 an effort on the part of the lady, more composed than her previous 
 agitation had given reason to expect. Isabella found her brother 
 looking better, and in less danger than her sensitive imagination had 
 led her to suppose. Her spirits rose in proportion ; from despond- 
 ency, she passed to something like gaiety ; her beautiful eyes sparkled 
 with renovated brilliancy ; and her face was lighted with smiles so 
 fascinating, that Frances, who, in compliance with her earnest en- 
 treaties, had accompanied her to the sick chamber, sat gazing on a 
 countenance that possessed so wonderful variability, impelled by a 
 charm that was beyond her control. The youth had thrown an ear- 
 nest look at Frances, as soon as his sister raised herself from his 
 arms, and perhaps it was the first glance at the lovely lineaments 
 of our heroine, when the gazer turned his eyes from the view in dis- 
 appointment. He seemed bewildered, rubbed his forehead like a 
 man awaking from a dream, and mused. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 lib 
 
 “ Where is Dunwoodie, Isabella ?” he said , ( the excellent fellow 
 is never weary of kind actions. After a day of such service as that 
 of yesterday, he has spent the night in bringing me a nurse, whose 
 presence alone is able to raise me from my couch.” 
 
 The expression of the lady’s countenance changed ; her eye roved 
 round the apartment with a character of wildness in it that repelled 
 the anxious Frances, who studied her movements with unabated 
 interest. 
 
 “ Dunwoodie ! is he then not here ? I thought to have met him 
 by the side of my brother’s bed.” 
 
 “ He has duties that require his presence elsewhere : the English 
 are said to be out by the way of the Hudson, and they give us light 
 troops but little rest : surely nothing else could have kept him so 
 long from a wounded friend. But, Isabella, the meeting has been 
 too much for you; you tremble.” 
 
 Isabella made no reply : she stretched her hand towards the table 
 which held the nourishment of the Captain, and the attentive Fran- 
 ces comprehended her wishes in a moment. A glass of water in 
 some measure revived the sister, who was enabled to say — 
 
 “ Doubtless it is his duty. ’Twas said above, a royal party was 
 moving on the river ; though I passed the troops but two miles from 
 this spot.” The latter part of the sentence was hardly audible, and 
 it was spoken more in the manner of a soliloquy, than as if intended 
 for the ears of her companions. 
 
 u On the march, Isabella?” eagerly enquired her brother. 
 
 “ No, dismounted, and seemingly at rest,” was the reply. 
 
 The wondering dragoon turned his gaze on the countenance of his 
 sister, who sat with her eye bent on the carpet in unconscious ab- 
 sence, but found no explanation. His look was changed to the face 
 of Frances, who, startled by the earnestness of his expression, arose, 
 and hastily enquired if he would have any assistance. 
 
 “ If you can pardon the rudeness,” said the wounded officer, mak- 
 
176 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 ing a feeble effort to raise his body, “ I would request to have Cap 
 tain Lawton’s company for a moment.” 
 
 Frances hastened instantly to communicate his wish to that gen- 
 tleman; and; impelled by an interest she could not control; she re- 
 turned again to her seat by the side of Miss Singleton. 
 
 “ Lawton/’ said the youth, impatiently, as the trooper entered, 
 “hear you from the Major?” 
 
 The eye of the sister was now bent on the face of the trooper, 
 who made his salutations to the lady with ease, blended with the 
 frankness of a soldier. 
 
 “ His man has been here twice,” he said, “ to enquire how we 
 fared in the Lazaretto.” 
 
 “ And why not himself?” 
 
 “That is a question the Major can answer best; but you know 
 the red-coats are abroad, and Dunwoodie commands in the county; 
 these English must be looked to.” 
 
 “ True,” said Singleton, slowly, as if struck with the other’s rea- 
 sons ; “ but how is it that you are idle, when there is work to do ?” 
 
 “ My sword arm is not in the best condition, and Roanoke has but 
 a shambling gait this morning ; besides, there is another reason I 
 could mention, if it were not that Miss Wharton would never forgive 
 me” 
 
 “ Speak, I beg, without dread of my displeasure,” said Frances, 
 returning the good-humoured smile of the trooper, with the archness 
 natural to her own sweet face. 
 
 “The odours of your kitchen, then,” cried Lawton bluntly, 
 “ forbid my quitting the domains, until I qualify myself to speak 
 with more certainty concerning the fatness of the land.” 
 
 “ Oh ! aunt Jeanette is exerting herself to do credit to my father’s 
 hospitality,” said the laughing girl, “ and I am a truant from her 
 labours, as I shall be a stranger to her favour, unless I proffer my 
 assistance.” 
 
 Frances withdrew to seek her aunt, musing deeply on the character 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 1 11 
 
 and extreme sensibility of the new acquaintance chance had brought 
 to the cottage. 
 
 The wounded officer followed her with his eyes, as she moved > 
 with infantile grace, through the door of his apartment, and as she 
 vanished from his view, he observed — 
 
 u Such an aunt and niece are seldom to be met with, Jack ; this 
 seems a fairy, but the aunt is angelic.” 
 
 “ You are doing well, I see; your enthusiasm for the sex holds 
 its own.” 
 
 “ I should be ungrateful as well as insensible, did I not bear tes- 
 timony to the loveliness of Miss Peyton.” 
 
 u A good motherly lady, but as to love, that is a matter of taste. 
 A few years younger, with deference to her prudence and experience, 
 would accord better with my fancy.” 
 
 “ She must be under twenty,” said the other, quickly. 
 
 “ It depends on the way you count. If you begin at the heel of 
 life, well ; but if you reckon downward, as is most common, I think 
 she is nearer forty.” 
 
 u You have mistaken an elder sister for the aunt,” said Isabella, 
 laying her fair hand on the mouth of the invalid ; u you must be 
 silent ! your feelings are beginning to affect your frame.” 
 
 The entrance of Dr. Sitgreaves, who, in some alarm, noticed the 
 increase of feverish symptoms in his patient, enforced this mandate ; 
 and the trooper withdrew to pay a visit of condolence to Roanoke, 
 who had been an equal sufferer with himself in their last night’s 
 somerset. To his great joy, his man pronounced the steed to be 
 equally convalescent with the master; and Lawton found that by 
 dint of rubbing the animal’s limbs, several hours without ceasing, 
 he was enabled to place his feet in what he called systematic 
 motion. Orders were accordingly given to be in readiness to rejoin 
 the troop at the Four Corners, as soon as his master had shared in 
 the bounty of the approaching banquet. 
 
 In the mean time, Henry Wharton entered the apartment of 
 
 8 * 
 
178 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Wellinere, and by his sympathy succeeded in restoring the Colonel 
 to his own good graces. The latter was consequently enabled tc 
 rise, and prepared to meet a rival of whom he had spoken so lightly, 
 and, as the result had proved, with so little reason. Wharton knew 
 that their misfortune, as they both termed their defeat, was owing 
 to the other’s rashness; but he forbore to speak of any thing except 
 the unfortunate accident which had deprived the English of their 
 leader, and to which he good-naturedly ascribed their subsequent 
 discomfiture. 
 
 “ In short, Wharton/’ said the Colonel, putting one leg out of bed, 
 “it may be called a combination of untoward events; your own 
 ungovernable horse prevented my orders from being carried to the 
 Major, in season to flank the rebels.” 
 
 “ Y ery true,” replied the Captain, kicking a slipper towards the 
 bed ; “ had we succeeded in getting a few good fires upon them in 
 flank, we should have sent these brave Virginians to the right about.” 
 
 “ Ay ! and that in double quick time,” cried the Colonel, making 
 the other leg follow its companion ; “ then it was necessary to rout 
 the guides, you know, and the movement gave them the best possible 
 opportunity to charge.” 
 
 “ Yes,” said the other, sending the second slipper after the first ; 
 “and this Major Dunwoodie never overlooks an advantage.” 
 
 “ I think if we had the thing to do over again,” continued the 
 Colonel, raising himself on his feet, “ we might alter the case very 
 materially, though the chief thing the rebels have now to boast of is 
 my capture : they were repulsed, you saw, in their attempt to drive 
 us from the wood.” 
 
 “ At least they would have been, had they made an attack,” said 
 the Captain, throwing the rest of his clothes within reach of the 
 Colonel. 
 
 “Why that is the same thing,” returned Wellmere, beginning to 
 dress himself ; “ to assume such an attitude as to intimidate your 
 enemy, is the chief art of war.” 
 
THE Spy. 
 
 179 
 
 “ Doubtless, then, you may remember in one of their charges they 
 were completely routed.” 
 
 “True — true,” cried the Colonel, with animation : “ had I been 
 there to have improved that advantage, we might have turned the 
 table on the Yankees;” saying which, he displayed still greater ani- 
 mation in completing his toilette ; and he was soon prepared to make 
 his appearance, fully restored to his own good opinion, and fairly 
 persuaded that his capture was owing to casualties, absolutely beyond 
 the control of man. 
 
 The knowledge that Colonel Wellmere was to be a guest at the 
 table, in no degree diminished the preparations which were already 
 making for the banquet ; and Sarah, after receiving the compliments 
 of the gentleman, and making many kind enquiries after the state 
 of his wounds, proceeded in person to lend her counsel and taste to 
 one of those laboured entertainments, which, at that day, were sc 
 frequent in country life, and which are not entirely banished from 
 our domestic economy at the present moment. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 I will stand to and feed, 
 
 Although my last. 
 
 Tempest 
 
 The savour of preparation which had been noticed by Captain Law- 
 ton, began to increase within the walls of the cottage : certain sweet- 
 smelling odours, that arose from the subterranean territories of 
 Caesar, gave to the trooper the most pleasing assurances that his 
 olfactory nerves, which on such occasions were as acute as his eyes 
 on others, had faithfully performed their duty ; and for the benefit 
 of enjoying the passing sweets as they arose, the dragoon so placed 
 himself at a window of the building, that not a vapour charged with 
 the spices of the east, could exhale on its passage to the clouds, 
 without first giving its incense to his nose. Lawton, however, by 
 no means indulged himself in this comfortable arrangement, without 
 first making such preparations to do meet honour to the feast, as his 
 scanty wardrobe would allow. The uniform of his corps was always 
 a passport to the best tables, and this, though somewhat tarnished 
 by faithful service and unceremonious usage, was properly brushed 
 and decked out for the occasion. His head, which nature had orna- 
 mented with the blackness of a crow, now shone with the whiteness 
 of snow; and his bony hand, that so well became the sabre, peered 
 from beneath a ruffle with something like maiden coyness. The 
 improvements of the dragoon went no further, excepting that his 
 boots shone with more than holiday splendour, and his spurs glit- 
 tered in the rays of the sun, as became the pure ore of which they 
 were composed. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 181 
 
 Caesar moved through the apartments with a face charged with 
 an importance exceeding even that which had accompanied him in 
 his melancholy task of the morning. The black had early retu: ned 
 from the errand on which he had been despatched by the pedler, 
 and, obedient to the commands of his mistress, promptly appeared 
 to give his services, where his allegiance was due ; so serious, indeed, 
 was his duty now becoming, that it was only at odd moments he 
 was enabled to impart to his sable brother, who had been sent in 
 attendance on Miss Singleton to the Locusts, any portion of the 
 wonderful incidents of the momentous night he had so lately passed. 
 By ingeniously using, however, such occasions as accidentally offered, 
 Caesar communicated so many of the heads of his tale, as served to 
 open the eyes of his visitor to their fullest width. The gusto for 
 the marvellous was innate in these sable worthies; and Miss Peyton 
 found it necessary to interpose her authority, in order to postpone 
 the residue of the history to a more befitting opportunity. 
 
 “Ah ! Miss Jinnett,” said Caesar, shaking his head, and looking 
 all that he expressed, “’twas awful to see Johnny Birch walk on a 
 feet when he lie dead !” 
 
 This concluded the conversation ; though the black promised him- 
 self the satisfaction, and did not fail to enjoy it, of having many a 
 good gossip on the solemn subject at a future period. 
 
 The ghost thus happily laid, the department of Miss Peyton flou- 
 rished; and by the time the afternoon’s sun had travelled a two 
 hours’ journey from the meridian, the formal procession from the 
 kitchen to the parlour commenced, under the auspices of Caesar, who 
 led the van, supporting a turkey on the palms of his withered hands, 
 with the dexterity of a balance-master. 
 
 Next followed the servant of Captain Lawton, bearing, as he 
 marched stiffly, and walking wide, as if allowing room for his steed, 
 a ham of true Virginian flavour ; a present from the spinster’s bro- 
 ther in Accomac. The supporter of this savoury dish kept his eye 
 on his trust with military precision; and by the time he reached his 
 
182 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 destination, it might be difficult to say which contained the mosil 
 juice, his own mouth or the Accomac bacon. 
 
 Third in the line was to be seen the valet of Colonel Wellmere, 
 who carried in either hand chickens fricasseed, and oyster patties. 
 
 After him marched the attendant of Dr. Sitgreaves, who had in- 
 stinctively seized an enormous tureen, as most resembling matters he 
 understood, and followed on in place, until the steams of the soup sc 
 completely bedimmed the spectacles he wore, as a badge of office, 
 that, on arriving at the scene of action, he was compelled to deposit 
 his freight on the floor, until, by removing the glasses, he could see 
 his way through the piles of reserved china and plate-warmers. 
 
 Next followed another trooper, whose duty it was to attend on 
 Captain Singleton ; and, as if apportioning his appetite to the feeble 
 state of his master, he had contented himself with conveying a pair 
 of ducks, roasted, until their tempting fragrance began to make him 
 repent his having so lately demolished a breakfast that had been 
 provided for his master’s sister, with another prepared for himself. 
 
 The white boy, who belonged to the house, brought up the rear, 
 groaning under the load of sundry dishes of vegetables, that the 
 cook, by way of climax, had unwittingly heaped on him. 
 
 But this was far from all of the preparations for that day’s feast 
 Caesar had no sooner deposited his bird, which, but the week 
 before, had been flying amongst the highlands of Dutchess, little 
 dreaming of so soon heading such a goodly assemblage, than he 
 turned mechanically on his heel, and took up his line of march again 
 for the kitchen. In this evolution the black was imitated by his 
 companions in succession, and another procession to the parlour fol- 
 lowed in the same order. By this admirable arrangement, whole 
 flocks of pigeons, certain bevies of quails, shoals of flat-fish, bass, 
 and sundry woodcock, found their way into the presence of the 
 company. 
 
 A third attack brought suitable quantities of potatoes, onions, 
 beets, cold-slaw, rice, and all the other minutiae of a goodly dinner. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 183 
 
 The board now fairly groaned with American profusio: ; and 
 Csesar, glancing his eye over the show with a most approving con- 
 science, after re-adjusting every dish that had not been placed on 
 the table with his own hands, proceeded to acquaint the mistress 
 of the revels that his task was happily accomplished. 
 
 Some half-hour before the culinary array just recorded took place, 
 all the ladies disappeared, much in the same unaccountable manner 
 that swallows flee the approach of winter. But the spring-time of 
 their return had arrived, and the whole party were collected in an 
 apartment that, in consequence of its containing no side-table, and 
 being furnished with a chintz coverlet settee, was termed a with- 
 draw in g-room. 
 
 The kind-hearted spinster had deemed the occasion worthy, not 
 only of extraordinary preparations in the culinary department, but 
 had seen proper to deck her own person in garments suited to the 
 guests whom it was now her happiness to entertain. 
 
 On her head Miss Peyton wore a cap of exquisite lawn, which 
 was ornamented in front with a broad border of lace, that spread 
 from the face in such a manner as to admit of a display of 
 artificial flowers, clustered in a group on the summit of her fine 
 forehead. 
 
 The colour of her hair was lost in the profusion of powder with 
 which it was covered ; but a slight curling of the extremities in 
 some degree relieved the formality of its arrangement, and gave a 
 look of feminine softness to the features. 
 
 Her dress was a rich, heavy silk, of violet colour, cut low around 
 the bust, with a stomacher of the same material, that fitted close tc 
 the figure, and exhibited the form, from the shoulders to the waist, 
 in its true proportions. Below, the dress was full, and sufficiently 
 showed that parsimony in attire was not a foible of the day. A 
 small loop displayed the beauty of the fabric to advantage, and 
 aided in giving majesty to the figure. 
 
 The tall stature of the lady was heightened by shoes of the same 
 
184 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 material with the dress, whose heels added more than an inch to the 
 liberality of nature. 
 
 The sleeves were short, and close to the limb, until they fell off 
 at the elbows in large ruffles, that hung in rich profusion from the 
 arm when extended ; and duplicates and triplicates of lawn, trimmed 
 with Dresden lace, lent their aid in giving delicacy to a hand and 
 arm that yet retained their whiteness and symmetry. A treble row 
 of large pearls closely encircled her throat ; and a handkerchief of 
 lace partially concealed that part of the person that the silk had left 
 exposed, but which the experience of forty years had warned Miss 
 Peyton should now be veiled. 
 
 Thus attired, and standing erect with the lofty grace that distin- 
 guished the manners of that day, the maiden would have looked into 
 nothingness a bevy of modern belles. 
 
 The taste of Sarah had kept even pace with the decorations of her 
 aunt; and a dress, differing in no respect from the one just described, 
 but in material and tints, exhibited her imposing form to equal ad- 
 vantage. The satin of her robe was of a pale bluish colour. Twenty 
 years did not, however, require the screen that was prudent in forty, 
 and nothing but an envious border of exquisite lace hid, in some 
 measure, what the satin left exposed to view. The upper part of 
 the bust, and the fine fall of the shoulders, were blazing in all their 
 native beauty, and, like the aunt, the throat was ornamented by a 
 treble row of pearls, to correspond with which were rings of the same 
 quality in the ears. The head was without a cap, and the hair 
 drawn up from the countenance so as to give to the eye all the love- 
 liness of a forehead as polished as marble and as white as snow. A 
 few straggling curls fell gracefully on the neck, and a bouquet of 
 artificial flowers was also placed, like a coronet, over her brow. 
 
 Miss Singleton had resigned her brother to the advice of Dr. 
 Sitgreaves, who had succeeded in getting his patient into a deep 
 sleep, after quieting certain feverish symptoms that followed the 
 agitation of the interview. The sister was persuaded, by the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 18r> 
 
 observant mistress of the mansion, to make one of the party, and she 
 sat by the side of Sarah, differing but little in appearance from that 
 lady, except in refusing the use of powder on her raven locks, and 
 that her unusually high forehead, and large, brilliant eyes, gave an 
 expression of thoughtfulness to her features, that was possibly 
 heightened by the paleness of her cheek. 
 
 Last and least, but not the most unlovely, in this display of female 
 charms, was the youngest daughter of Mr. Wharton. Frances, we 
 have already mentioned, left the city before she had attained to the 
 age of fashionable womanhood. A few adventurous spirits were 
 already beginning to make inroads in those customs which had so 
 long invaded the comforts of the fair sex 3 and the youthful girl had 
 ventured to trust her beauty to the height which nature had 
 bestowed. This was but little, but that little was a masterpiece. 
 Frances several times had determined, in the course of the morning, 
 to bestow more than usual pains in the decoration of her person. 
 Each time, in succession, as she formed this resolution, she spent a 
 few minutes in looking earnestly towards the north, and then she as 
 invariably changed it. 
 
 At the appointed hour, our heroine appeared in the drawing-room, 
 clothed in a robe of pale blue silk, of a cut and fashion much like 
 that worn by her sister. Her hair was left to the wild curls 
 of nature, its exuberance being confined to the crown of her head by 
 a long, low comb, made of light tortoise-shell 3 a colour barely dis- 
 tinguishable in the golden hue of her tresses. Her dress was with- 
 out a plait or a wrinkle, and fitted the form with an exactitude that 
 might lead one to imagine the arch girl more than suspected the 
 beauties it displayed. A tucker of rich Dresden lace softened the 
 contour of the figure. Her head was without ornament 3 but around 
 her throat was a necklace of gold clasped in front with a rich 
 cornelian. 
 
 Once, and once only, as they moved towards the repast, did Law- 
 ton see a foot thrust itself from beneath the folds of her robe, and 
 
186 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 exhibit its little beauties encased in a slipper of blue silk, clasped 
 -•lose to the shape by a buckle of brilliants. The trooper caught 
 niinself sighing as he thought, though it was good for nothing in the 
 stirrup, how enchantingly it would grace a minuet. 
 
 As the black appeared on the threshold of the room, making a 
 low reverence, which has been interpreted for some centuries into 
 u dinner waits,” Mr. Wharton, clad in a dress of drab, bedecked 
 with enormous buttons, advanced formally to Miss Singleton, and 
 bending his powdered head nearly to the level of the hand he ex- 
 tended, received hers in return. 
 
 Dr. Sitgreaves offered the same homage to Miss Peyton, and met 
 with equal favour ; the lady first pausing to draw on her gloves. 
 
 Colone Wellmere was honoured with a smile from Sarah, while 
 perform. ng a similar duty; and Frances gave the ends of her taper 
 fingers to Captain Lawton with maiden bashfulness. 
 
 Much time, and some trouble, were expended before the whole 
 party were, to the great joy of Caesar, comfortably arranged around 
 the table, with proper attention to all points of etiquette and prece- 
 dence. The black well knew the viands were not improving; and 
 though abundantly able to comprehend the disadvantage of eating a 
 cold dinner, it greatly exceeded his powers of philosophy to weigh 
 all the latent consequences to society which depend on social order. 
 
 For the first ten minutes all but the Captain of dragoons found 
 themselves in a situation much to their liking. Even Lawton would 
 have been perfectly happy, had not excess of civility on the part of 
 his host and Miss Jeanette Peyton, kept him from the more agree- 
 able occupation of tasting dishes he did want, in order to decline 
 those he did not. At length, however, the repast was fairly com- 
 menced, and a devoted application to the viands was more eloquent 
 than a thousand words in favour of Dinah’s skill. 
 
 Next came drinking with the ladies; but as the wine was excel- 
 lent, and the glasses ample, the trooper bore this interruption with 
 consummate good nature. Nay, so fearful was he of giving offence. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 187 
 
 and of omitting any of the nicer points of punctilio, that having 
 commenced this courtesy with the lady who sat next him, he perse- 
 vered until not one of his fair companions could, with justice, re- 
 proach him with partiality in this particular. 
 
 Long abstemiousness from any thing like generous wine might 
 plead the excuse of Captain Lawton, especially when exposed to so 
 strong a temptation as that now before him. Mr. Wharton had 
 been one of a set of politicians in New York, whose principal ex- 
 ploits before the war had been to assemble, and pass sage opinions 
 on the signs of the times, under the inspiration of certain liquor 
 made from a grape that grew on the south side of the island of Ma- 
 deira, and which found its way into the colonies of North America 
 through the medium of the West Indies, sojourning awhile in the 
 Western Archipelago, by way of proving the virtues of the climate. 
 A large supply of this cordial had been drawn from his storehouse 
 in the city, and some of it now sparkled in a bottle before the Cap- 
 tain, blushing in the rays of the sun, which were passing obliquely 
 through it, like amber. 
 
 Though the meat and vegetables had made their entrance with 
 perfect order and propriety, their exeunt was effected much in the 
 manner of a retreat of militia. The point was to clear the board 
 something after the fabled practice of the harpies, and by dint of 
 scrambling, tossing, breaking, and spilling, the remnants of the over- 
 flowing repast disappeared. And now another series of processions 
 commenced, by virtue of which, a goodly display of pastry, with its 
 usual accompaniments, garnished the table. 
 
 Mr. Wharton poured out a glass of wine for the lady who sat on 
 his right hand, and, pushing the bottle to a guest, said, with a low 
 bow — 
 
 “We are to be honoured with a toast from Miss Singleton.” 
 
 Although there was nothing more in this movement than occurred 
 every day on such occasions, yet the lady trembled, coloured, and 
 grew pale again, seemingly endeavouring to rally her thoughts, until, 
 
188 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 by her agitation, she had excited the interest of the whole party ; 
 when, by an effort, and in a manner as if she had striven in vain to 
 think of another, Isabella said, faintly — 
 u Major Dunwoodie.” 
 
 The health was drunk cheerfully by all but Colonel Wellmere, 
 who wet his lips, and drew figures on the table with some of the 
 liquor he had spilt. 
 
 At length Colonel Wellmere broke silence by saying aloud to 
 Captain Lawton — 
 
 u I suppose, sir, this Mr. Dunwoodie will receive promotion in the 
 rebel army, for the advantage my misfortune gave him over my com- 
 mand.^ 
 
 The trooper had supplied the wants of nature to his perfect satis- 
 faction; and, perhaps, with the exception of Washington and his 
 immediate commander, there was no mortal whose displeasure he 
 regarded a tittle. First helping himself, therefore, to a little of his 
 favourite bottle, he replied with admirable coolness — 
 
 “ Colonel Wellmere, your pardon; Major Dunwoodie owes his 
 allegiance to the confederated states of North America, and where 
 he owes it, he pays it. Such a man is no rebel. Promoted I hope 
 he may be, both because he deserves it, and because I am next in 
 rank in the corps; and I know not what you call a misfortune, unless 
 you deem meeting the Virginia horse as such.” 
 
 “We will not differ about terms, sir,” said the Colonel, haughtily; 
 u I spoke as duty to my sovereign prompted : but do you not call 
 the loss of a commander a misfortune to a party ?” 
 
 u It certainly may be so,” said the trooper, with emphasis. 
 u Miss Peyton, will you favour us with a toast ?” cried the master 
 of the house, anxious to stop this dialogue. 
 
 The lady bowed her head with dignity, as she named “ General 
 Montrose;” and the long-absent bloom stole lightly over her fea- 
 tures. 
 
 u There is no term more doubtful than that word misfortune,” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 189 
 
 said the surgeon, regardless of the nice manoeuvres of the host; 
 “ some deem one thing a misfortune, others its opposite : misfortune 
 begets misfortune : life is a misfortune, for it may be the means of 
 enduring misfortune ; and death is a misfortune, as it abridges the 
 enjoyments of life.” 
 
 “ It is a misfortune that our mess has no such wine as this,” in- 
 terrupted the trooper. 
 
 “We will pledge you a sentiment in it, sir, as it seems to suit 
 your taste,” said Mr. Wharton. 
 
 Lawton filled to the brim, and drank, “A speedy peace, or a stir- 
 ring war.” 
 
 “ I drink your toast, Captain Lawton, though I greatly distrust 
 your construction of activity,” said the surgeon. “ In my poor judg- 
 ment, cavalry should be kept in the rear, to improve a victory, and 
 not sent in front to gain it. Such may be said to be their natural 
 occupation, if the term can be used in reference to so artificial a body; 
 for all history shows that the horse have done most when properly 
 held in reserve.” 
 
 This dissertation, uttered in a sufficiently didactic manner, was a 
 hint that Miss Peyton did not neglect. She arose and retired, fol- 
 lowed by her juniors. 
 
 Nearly at the same moment, Mr. Wharton and his son made an 
 apology for their absence, which was required on account of the 
 death of a near neighbour, and withdrew. 
 
 The retreat of the ladies was the signal for the appearance of the 
 surgeon’s segar, which, being established in a corner of his mouth, 
 in a certain knowing way, caused not the slightest interruption to 
 his discourse — 
 
 “ If any thing can sweeten captivity and wounds, it must be the 
 happiness of suffering in the society of the ladies who have left us,” 
 gallantly observed the Colonel, as he resumed his seat after closing 
 the door. 
 
 “ Sympathy and kindness have their influence on the human sys- 
 
190 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 tern,” returned the surgeon, knocking the ashes from his segar, witk 
 the tip of a little finger, in the manner of an adept. “ The connec- 
 tion is intimate between the moral and physical feelings; but still, 
 to accomplish a cure, and restore nature to the healthy tone it has 
 lost from disease or accident, requires more than can flow from un- 
 guided sympathies. In such cases, the lights’ ’ — the surgeon acci- 
 dentally caught the eye of the trooper, and he paused. Taking two 
 or three hasty puffs, he essayed to finish the sentence — “ In such 
 cases, the knowledge that flows from the lights — ” 
 
 “You were saying, sir — ■” said Colonel Wellmere, sipping his 
 wine — 
 
 “ The purport of my remark went to say/’ continued Sitgreaves, 
 turning his back on Lawton, “ that a bread poultice would not set a 
 broken arm.” 
 
 “ More is the pity,” cried the trooper, “ for next to eating, the 
 nourishment could not be more innocently applied.” 
 
 “To you, Colonel Wellmere,” said the surgeon, “as a man of 
 education, I can with safety appeal.” The Colonel bowed. “ You 
 must have observed the dreadful havoc made in your ranks by the 
 men who were led by this • gentleman ;” the Colonel looked grave, 
 again ; “ how, when blows lighted on their frames, life was invariably 
 extinguished, beyond all hope of scientific reparation : how certain 
 yawning wounds were inflicted, that must set at defiance the art of 
 the most experienced practitioner ; now, sir, to you I triumphantly 
 appeal, therefore, to know whether your detachment would not have 
 been as effectually defeated, if the men had all lost a right arm, for 
 instance, as if they had all lost their heads.” 
 
 “ The triumph of'your appeal is somewhat hasty, sir,” said Well- 
 mere. 
 
 “Is the cause of liberty advanced a step by such injudicious 
 harshness in the field ?” continued the surgeon, bent on the favour- 
 ite principle of his life. 
 
 “ I am yet to learn that the cause of liberty is in any manner ad- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 19 i 
 
 danced by tbe services of any gentleman in the rebel army,” rejoined 
 the Colonel. 
 
 “ Not liberty ! Good God, for what then are we contending?” 
 
 “ Slavery, sir ; yes, even slavery ; you are putting the tyranny of 
 a mob on the throne of a kind and lenient prince ; where is the con- 
 sistency of your boasted liberty?” 
 
 u Consistency !” repeated the surgeon, looking about him a little 
 wildly, at hearing such sweeping charges against a cause he had so 
 long thought holy. 
 
 “ Ay, sir, your consistency. Your congress of sages have pub- 
 lished a manifesto, wherein they set forth the equality of political 
 rights.” 
 
 “ 'T is true, and it is done most ably.” 
 
 u I say nothing of its ability ; but if true, why not set your slaves 
 at liberty?” This argument, which is thought by most of the Co- 
 lonel's countrymen a triumphant answer to a thousand eloquent 
 facts, lost none of its weight by the manner in which it was uttered. 
 
 Every American feels humbled at the necessity of vindicating his 
 country from the apparent inconsistency and injustice of the laws 
 alluded to. His feelings are much like those of an honourable man 
 who is compelled to exonerate himself from a disgraceful charge, 
 although he may know the accusation to be false. At the bottom, 
 Sitgreaves had much good sense, and thus called on, he took up the 
 cudgels of argument in downright earnest. 
 
 u We deem it a liberty to have the deciding voice in the councils 
 by which we are governed. We think it a hardship to be ruled by 
 the king of a people who live at a distance of three thousand miles, 
 and who cannot, and who do not, feel a single political interest in 
 common with ourselves. I say nothing of oppression; the child 
 was of age, and was entitled to the privileges of majority. In such 
 cases, there is but one tribunal to which to appeal for a nation's 
 rights — it is power, and we now make the appeal.” 
 
 “ Such doctrines may suit your present purposes,” said Wellmere, 
 
L 92 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 with a sneer ; u but I apprehend it is opposed to all the opinions 
 and practices of civilised nations.” 
 
 “ It is in conformity with the practices of all nations,” said the 
 surgeon, returning the nod and smile of Lawton, who enjoyed the 
 good sense of his comrade as much as he disliked what he called 
 i his medical talk/ “ Who would be ruled when he can rule ? the 
 only rational ground to take is, that every community has a right to 
 govern itself, so that in no manner it violates the laws of God.” 
 
 “ And is holding your fellow-creatures in bondage in conformity 
 to those laws?” asked the Colonel, impressively. 
 
 The surgeon took another glass, and hemming once, returned to 
 the combat. 
 
 “ Sir,” said he, “ slavery is of very ancient origin, and it seems 
 to have been confined to no particular religion or form of govern- 
 ment; every nation of civilised Europe does, or has held their 
 fellow-creatures in this kind of duresse .” 
 
 “ You will except Great Britain, sir,” cried the Colonel, proudly. 
 “No, sir,” continued the surgeon, confidently, feeling that he was 
 now carrying the war out of his own country ; “I cannot except 
 Great Britain. It was her children, her ships, and her laws, that 
 first introduced the practice into these states ; and on her institutions 
 the judgment must fall. There is not a foot of ground belonging 
 to England, in which a negro would be useful, that has not its slave. 
 England herself has none, but England is overflowing with physical 
 force, a part of which she is obliged to maintain in the shape 
 of paupers. The same is true of France, and most other European 
 countries. So long as we were content to remain colonies, nothing 
 was said of our system of domestic slavery ; but now, when we are 
 resolute to obtain as much freedom as the vicious system of metro- 
 politan rule has left us, that which is England’s gift has become our 
 reproach. Will your master liberate the slaves of his subjects 
 should he succeed in subduing the new states, or will he condemn 
 the whites to the same servitude as that in which he has been so 
 
THE SPY, 
 
 193 
 
 long content to see the blacks ? It is true, we continue the practice ; 
 but we must come gradually to the remedy, or create an evil greater 
 than that which we endure at present : doubtless, as we advance, 
 the manumission of our slaves will accompany us, until happily 
 these fair regions shall exist, without a single image of the Creator 
 that is held in a state which disqualifies him to judge of that 
 Creator’s goodness.” 
 
 It will be remembered that Doctor Sitgreaves spoke forty years 
 ago, and Wellmere was unable to contradict his prophetic assertion. 
 
 Finding the subject getting to be knotty, the Englishman retired 
 to the apartment in which the ladies had assembled ; and, seated by 
 the side of Sarah, he found a more pleasing employment in relating 
 the events of fashionable life in the metropolis, and in recalling the 
 thousand little anecdotes of their former associates. Miss Peyton 
 was a pleased listener, as she dispensed the bounties of the tea* 
 table, and Sarah frequently bowed her blushing countenance to her 
 needle-work, as her face glowed at the flattering remarks of her 
 companion 
 
 The dialogue we have related established a perfect truce between 
 the surgeon and his comrade ; and the former having paid a visit to 
 Singleton, they took their leave of the ladies, and mounted; the 
 former to visit the wounded at the encampment, and the latter to 
 rejoin his troop. But their movements were arrested at the gate 
 by an occurrence that we shall relate in the next chapter. 
 
 9 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 I see no more those white locks thinly spread 
 Round the bald polish of that honour’d head : 
 
 No more that meek, that suppliant look in prayer, 
 
 Nor that pure faith that gave it force, are there : 
 
 But he is blest, and I lament no more, 
 
 A wise good man, contented to be poor 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 We have already said, that the customs of America leave the dead 
 but a short time in the sight of the mourners ; and the necessity of 
 providing for his own safety had compelled the pedler to abridge 
 even this brief space. In the confusion and agitation produced by 
 the events we have recorded, the death of the elder Bircli had 
 occurred unnoticed ; but a sufficient number of the immediate neigh- 
 bours were hastily collected, and the ordinary rites of sepulture were 
 now about to be paid to the deceased. It was the approach of this 
 humble procession that arrested the movements of the trooper and 
 his comrade. Four men supported the body on a rude bier ; and 
 four others walked in advance, ready to relieve their friends from 
 their burden. The pedler walked next the coffin, and by his side 
 moved Katy Haynes, with a most determined aspect of wo, and next 
 to the mourners came Mr. Wharton and the English Captain. 
 Two or three old men and women, with a few straggling boys, 
 brought up the rear. Captain Lawton sat in his saddle, in rigid 
 silence, until the bearers came opposite to his position, and then, 
 for the first time, Harvey raised his eyes from the ground, and saw 
 the enemy that he dreaded so near him. The first impulse of the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 195 
 
 pettier was certainly flight; but recovering his recollection, he fixed 
 his eye on the coffin of his parent, and passed the dragoon with a 
 firm step but swelling heart. The trooper slowly lifted his cap, and 
 continued uncovered until Mr. Wharton and his son had moved by, 
 when, accompanied by the surgeon, he rode leisurely in the rear, 
 maintaining an inflexible silence. 
 
 Caesar emerged from the cellar kitchen of the cottage, and with a 
 face of settled solemnity, added himself to the number of the fol- 
 lowers of the funeral, though with an humble mien, and at a most 
 respectful distance from the horsemen. The old negro had placed 
 around his arm, a little above the elbow, a napkin of unsullied 
 whiteness, it being the only time since his departure from the city 
 that he had enjoyed an opportunity of exhibiting himself in the 
 garniture of servile mourning. He was a great lover of propriety, 
 and had been a little stimulated to this display by a desire to show 
 his sable friend from Georgia all the decencies of a New York fune- 
 ral ; and the ebullition of his zeal went off very well, producing no 
 other result than a mild lecture from Miss Peyton at his return, on 
 the fitness of things. The attendance of the black was thought well 
 enough in itself ; but the napkin was deemed a superfluous exhibi- 
 tion of ceremony, at the funeral of a man who had performed all the 
 menial offices in his own person. 
 
 The grave-yard was an enclosure on the grounds of Mr. Wharton, 
 which had been fenced with stone, and set apart for the purpose, by 
 that gentleman, some years before. It was not, however, intended 
 as a burial-place for any of his own family. Until the fire, which 
 raged as the British troops took possession of New York, had laid 
 Trinity in ashes, a goodly gilded tablet on its walls proclaimed the 
 virtues of his deceased parents, and beneath a flag of marble, in one 
 of the aisles of the church, their bones were left to moulder in aris- 
 tocratical repose. Captain Lawton made a movement as if he was 
 disposed to follow the procession, when it left the highway, to enter 
 the field which contained the graves of the humble dead, but he was 
 
196 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 recalled to recollection by a hint from his companion that he was 
 taking the wrong road. 
 
 “ Of all the various methods which have been adopted by man 
 for the disposal of his earthly remains ; which do you prefer, Captain 
 Lawton ?” said the surgeon, as they separated from the little pro- 
 cession : “ in some countries the body is exposed to be devoured by 
 wild beasts ; in others it is suspended in the air to exhale its sub- 
 stance in the manner of decomposition ; in other regions it is con- 
 sumed on the funeral pile, and, again, it is inhumed in the bowels 
 of the earth ; every people have their own particular fashion, and to 
 which do you give the preference ?” 
 
 “ All are agreeable,” said the trooper, following the group they 
 had left with his eyes ; “ though the speediest interments give the 
 cleanest fields. Of which are you an admirer ?” 
 
 “The last, as practised by ourselves, for the other three are 
 destructive of all the opportunities for dissection; whereas, in the 
 last, the coffin can lie in peaceful decency, while the remains are 
 made to subserve the useful purposes of science. Ah ! Captain 
 Lawton, I enjoy comparatively but few opportunities of such a 
 nature, to what I expected on entering the army.” 
 
 “ To what may these pleasures numerically amount in a year ?” 
 said the Captain, withdrawing his gaze from the grave-yard. 
 
 “Within a dozen, upon my honour; my best picking is when the 
 corps is detached ; for when we are with the main army, there are 
 so many boys to be satisfied, that I seldom get a good subject. 
 Those youngsters are as wasteful as prodigals, and as greedy as vul- 
 tures.” 
 
 “ A dozen !” echoed the trooper, in surprise ; “ why I furnish 
 you that number with my own hands.” 
 
 “Ah! JacK,” returned the doctor, approaching the subject with 
 great tenderness of manner, “ it is seldom I can do any thing with 
 your patients; you disfigure them wofully; believe me, John, when 
 I tell you as a friend that your system is all wrong ; you unneces- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 197 
 
 sarily destroy life, and then yon injure the body so that it is unfit 
 for the only use that can be made of a dead man.” 
 
 The trooper maintained a silence, which he thought would be the 
 most probable means of preserving peace between them; and the 
 surgeon, turning his head from taking a last look at the burial, as 
 they rode round the foot of the hill that shut the valley from their 
 sight, continued with a suppressed sigh — 
 
 “ One might get a natural death from that grave-yard to-night, if 
 there was but time and opportunity ! the patient must be the father 
 of the lady we saw this morning.” 
 
 “ The petticoat doctor ! — she with the Aurora Borealis com- 
 plexion,” said the trooper, with a smile, that began to cause uneasi- 
 ness to his companion; “but the lady was not the gentleman's 
 daughter, only his medico-petticoat attendant; and the Harvey, 
 whose name was made to rhyme with every word in her song, is the 
 renowned pedler-spy.” 
 
 “ What ! he who unhorsed you ?” 
 
 “No man ever unhorsed me, Dr. Sitgreaves,” said the dragoon, 
 gravely ; “ I fell by a mischance of Boanoke ; rider and beast kissed 
 the earth together.” 
 
 “ A warm embrace, from the love spots it left on your cuticle ; 
 'tis a thousand pities that you cannot find where the tattling rascal 
 lies hid.” 
 
 “ He followed his father's body.” 
 
 “ And you let him pass !” cried the surgeon, checking his horse ; 
 “let us return immediately and take him; to-morrow you shall have 
 him hanged, Jack, — and, damn him, I 'll dissect him !” 
 
 “ Softly, softly, my dear Archibald, would you arrest a man while 
 paying the last offices to a dead father ? Leave him to me, and J 
 pledge myself he shall have justice.” 
 
 “ The doctor muttered his dissatisfaction at any postponement of 
 vengeance, but he was compelled to acquiesce, from a regard to hit 
 reputation for propriety; and they continued their ride to the quar 
 
198 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 ters of the corps, engaged in various discussions concerning the wel- 
 fare of the human body. 
 
 Birch supported the grave and collected manner, that was thought 
 becoming in a male mourner on such occasions, and to Katy was left 
 the part of exhibiting the tenderness of the softer sex. There are 
 some people, whose feelings are of such a nature, that they cannot 
 weep unless it be in proper company, and the spinster was a good 
 deal addicted to this congregational virtue. After casting her eyes 
 round the small assemblage, the housekeeper found the countenances 
 of the few females, who were present, fixed on her in solemn expec- 
 tation, and the effect was instantaneous ; the maiden really wept, and 
 she gained no inconsiderable sympathy, and some reputation for a 
 tender heart, from the spectators. The muscles of the pedler’s face 
 were seen to move, and as the first clod of earth fell on the tenement 
 of his father, sending up that dull, hollow sound, that speaks so elo- 
 quently the mortality of man, his whole frame was for an instant 
 convulsed. He bent his body down, as if in pain, his fingers worked 
 while the hands hung lifeless by his side, and there was an expres- 
 sion in his countenance that seemed to announce a writhing of the 
 soul; but it was not unresisted, and it was transient. He stood 
 erect, drew a long breath, and looked around him with an elevated 
 face, that even seemed to smile with a consciousness of having ob 
 tained the mastery. The grave was soon filled; a rough stone, 
 placed at either extremity, marked its position, and the turf, whose 
 faded vegetation was adapted to the fortunes of the deceased, covered 
 the little hillock with the last office of seemliness. This office ended, 
 the neighbours, who had officiously pressed forward to offer their 
 services in performing this solemn duty, paused, and lifting their 
 hats, stood looking towards the mourner, who now felt himself to 
 be really alone in the world. Uncovering his head also, the pedler 
 hesitated a moment, to gather energy, and spoke. 
 
 “ My friends and neighbours,” he said, “ I thank you for assisting 
 me to bury my dead out of my sight.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 199 
 
 A solemn pause succeeded the customary address, and the group 
 dispersed in silence, some few walking with the mourners back to 
 their own habitation, but respectfully leaving them at its entrance. 
 The pedler and Katy were followed into the building by one man, 
 however, who was well known to the surrounding country by the 
 significant term of “a speculator.” Katy saw him enter, with a 
 heart that palpitated with dreadful forebodings, but Harvey civilly 
 handed him a chair, and evidently was prepared for the visit. 
 
 The pedler went to the door, and, taking a cautious glance about 
 the valley, quickly returned, and commenced the following dialogue — 
 u The sun has just left the top of the eastern hill ; my time presses 
 me : here is the deed for the house and lot ; every thing is done 
 according to law.” 
 
 The other took the paper, and conned its contents with a delibe- 
 ration that proceeded partly from his caution, and partly from the 
 unlucky circumstance of his education having been much neglected 
 when a youth. The time occupied in this tedious examination was 
 employed by Harvey in gathering together certain articles, which he 
 intended to include in the stores that were to leave the habitation 
 with himself. Katy had already enquired of the pedler, whether 
 the deceased had left a will ; and she saw the Bible placed in the 
 bottom of a new pack, which she had made for his accommodation, 
 with a most stoical indifference ; but as the six silver spoons were 
 laid carefully by its side, a sudden twinge of her conscience objected 
 to such a palpable waste of property, and she broke silence. 
 u When you marry, Harvey, you may miss those spoons.” 
 
 “ I never shall marry.” 
 
 u Well, if you don’t, there’s no occasion to make rash promises, 
 even to yourself. One never knows what one may do, in such a 
 ease. I should like to know, of what use so many spoons can be to 
 a single man : for my part, I think it is a duty for every man who 
 is well provided, to have a wife and family to maintain.” 
 
 At the time when Katy expressed this sentiment, the fortune of 
 
200 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 women in her class of life consisted of a cow, a bed, the labours of 
 their own hands in the shape of divers pillow-cases, blankets, and 
 sheets, with, where fortune was unusually kind, a half-dozen silver 
 spoons. The spinster herself had obtained all the other necessaries 
 by her own industry and prudence, and it can easily be imagined 
 that she saw the articles she had long counted her own, vanish in 
 the enormous pack, with a dissatisfaction that was in no degree di- 
 minished by the declaration that had preceded the act. Harvey, 
 however, disregarded her opinions and feelings, and continued hid 
 employment of filling the pack, which soon grew to something like 
 the ordinary size of the pedler's burden. 
 
 “I'm rather timersome about this conveyance/' said the pur- 
 chaser, having at length waded through the covenants of the deed. 
 
 “Why so?” 
 
 “ I 'm afraid it won't stand good in law. I know that two of the 
 neighbours leave home to-morrow morning, to have the place entered 
 for confistication ; and if I should give forty pounds, and lose it all, 
 't would be a dead pull-back to me.” 
 
 “ They can only take my right,” said the pedler ; “ pay me two 
 hundred dollars, and the house is yours : you are a well-known 
 Whig, and you at least they won't trouble.” As Harvey spoke, 
 there was a strange bitterness of manner, mingled with the shrewd 
 care he expressed concerning the sale of his property. 
 
 “ Say one hundred, and it is a bargain,” returned the man, with 
 a grin that he meant for a good-natured smile. 
 
 “A bargain !” echoed the pedler, in surprise ; “ I thought the 
 bargain already made. 
 
 “Nothing is a bargain,” said the purchaser, with a chuckle, 
 “ until papers are delivered, and the money paid in hand.” 
 
 “You have the paper.” 
 
 “Ay, and will keep it, if you will excuse the money ; come, say 
 one hundred and fifty, and I won't be hard; here — here is just 
 die money.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 201 
 
 The pedler looked from the window, and saw with dismay that 
 the evening was fast advancing, and knew well that he endangered 
 his life by remaining in the dwelling after dark ; yet he could not 
 tolerate the idea of being defrauded in this manner, in a bargain that 
 had already been fairly made ; he hesitated. 
 
 “Well,” said the purchaser, rising, “mayhap you can find 
 another man to trade with between this and morning ; but, if you 
 don’t, your title won’t be worth much afterwards.” 
 
 “ Take it, Harvey,” said Katy, who felt it impossible to resist a 
 tender like the one before her; for the purchase-money was in 
 English guineas. Her voice roused the pedler, and a new idea 
 seemed to strike him. 
 
 “ I agree to the price,” he said ; and, turning to the spinster, he 
 placed part of the money in her hand, as he continued — “ had I 
 other means to pay you, I would have lost all, rather than have suf- 
 fered myself to be defrauded of part.” 
 
 “You may lose all yet,” muttered the stranger, with a sneer, as 
 he rose and left the building. 
 
 “ Yes,” said Katy, following him with her eyes; “ he knows your 
 failing, Harvey ; he thinks with me, now the old gentleman is gone, 
 you will want a careful body to take care of your concerns.” 
 
 The pedler was busied in making arrangements for his departure, 
 and he took no notice of this insinuation, while the spinster returned 
 again to the attack. She had lived so many years in expectation of 
 a termination to her hopes, so different from that which now seemed 
 likely to occur, that the idea of separation began to give her more 
 uneasiness than she had thought herself capable of feeling, about a 
 man so destitute and friendless. 
 
 “ Have you another house to go to ?” enquired Katy. 
 
 “ Providence will provide me with a home.” 
 
 “Yes,” said the housekeeper; “but maybe ’twill not be to yoir 
 liking.” 
 
 “ The poor must not be difficult.” 
 
 9 * 
 
*202 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 (( I ’in sure I ’m any thing but a difficult body/' cried the spinster, 
 very hastily; “but I love to see things becoming, and in their 
 places; yet I wouldn’t be hard to persuade to leave this place 
 myself. I can’t say I altogether like the ways of the people 
 hereabouts.” 
 
 “ The valley is lovely,” said the pedler, with fervour, “ and the 
 people like all the race of man. But to me it matters nothing ; all 
 places are now alike, and all faces equally strange ;” as he spoke he 
 dropped the article he was packing from his hand, and seated him- 
 self on a chest, with a look of vacant misery. 
 
 “ Not so, not so,” said Katy, shoving her chair nearer to the place 
 where the pedler sat ; “ not so, Harvey, you must know me at least ; 
 my face cannot be strange to you, certainly.” 
 
 Birch turned his eyes slowly on her countenance, which exhibited 
 more of feeling, and less of self, than he had ever seen there before : 
 he took her hand kindly, and his own features lost some of their 
 painful expression, as he said — 
 
 “ Yes, good woman, you, at least, are not a stranger to me; you 
 may do me partial justice; when others revile me, possibly your 
 feelings may lead you to say something in my defence.” 
 
 “ That I will ; that I would !” said Katy, eagerly ; “ I will 
 defend you, Harvey, to the last drop ; let me hear them that dare 
 revile you! you say true, Harvey, I am partial and just to you; 
 what if you do like the king ? I have often heard it said he was at 
 the bottom a good man ; but there ’s no religion in the old country, 
 for everybody allows the ministers are desperate bad !” 
 
 The pedler paced the floor in evident distress of mind ; his eye 
 had a look of wildness that Katy had never witnessed before, 
 and his step was measured, with a dignity that appalled the house- 
 keeper. 
 
 “ While my father lived,” murmured Harvey, unable to smother 
 his feelings, “ there was one who read my heart ; and oh ! what a 
 consolation to return from my secret marches of danger, and the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 205 
 
 insults and wrongs that I suffered, to receive his blessing and his 
 praise; but he is gone/’ he continued, stopping and gazing wildly 
 towards the corner that used to hold the figure of his parent, “ and 
 who is there to do me justice V 1 
 “ Why, Harvey ! Harvey !” 
 
 “ Yes, there is one who will, who must know me before I die ! 
 Oh ! it is dreadful to die, and leave such a name behind me.” 
 
 “ Don’t talk of dying, Harvey,” said the spinster, glancing her 
 eve around the room, and pushing the wood in the fire to obtain a 
 light from the blaze. 
 
 The ebullition of feeling in the pedler was over. It had been 
 excited by the events of the past day, and a vivid perception of his 
 sufferings. It was not long, however, that passion maintained an 
 ascendency over the reason of this singular man; and perceiving 
 that the night had already thrown an obscurity around objects with- 
 out doors, he hastily threw his pack over his shoulders, and taking 
 Katy kindly by the hand, in leave-taking — 
 
 “It is painful to part with even you, good woman,” he said; 
 “ but the hour has come, and I must go. What is left in the house 
 is yours ; to me it could be of no use, and it may serve to make you 
 more comfortable. Farewell — we shall meet hereafter.” 
 
 “ In the regions of darkness,” cried a voice that caused the pedlej 
 to sink on the chest from which he had risen in despair. 
 
 “What ! another pack, Mr. Birch, and so well stuffed so soon !” 
 
 “ Have you not done evil enough ?” cried the pedler, regaining 
 his firmness, and springing on his feet with energy ; “ is it not enough 
 to harass the last moments of a dying man ; to impoverish me ; what 
 more would you have ?” 
 
 “ Your bl<x>d,” said the Skinner, with cool malignity. 
 
 “And for money,” cried Harvey, bitterly; “like the ancient 
 Judas, you would grow rich with the price of blood !” 
 
 “ Ay ! and a fair price it is, my gentleman ; fifty guireas ; nearly 
 the weight of that scare-crow carcass of yours in gold.” 
 
204 
 
 THE S r Y . 
 
 “ Here,” said Katy, promptly ; “ here are fifteen guineas, and 
 these drawers, and this bed, are all mine; if you will give Harvey 
 but one hour’s start from the door, they shall be yours.” 
 
 “ One hour ?” said the Skinner, showing his teeth, and looking 
 with a longing eye at the money. 
 
 “But a single hour; here, take the money.” 
 
 “ Hold !” cried Harvey; “put no faith in the miscreant.” 
 
 “ She may do what she pleases with her faith,” said the Skinner, 
 with malignant pleasure ; “ but I have the money in good keeping ; 
 as for you, Mr. Birch, we will bear your insolence, for the fifty gui- 
 neas that are to pay for your gallows.” 
 
 “Go on,” said the pedler, proudly; “take me to Major Dun- 
 woodie ; he, at least, may be kind, although he may be just.” 
 
 “ I can do better than by marching so far in such disgraceful 
 company ; this Mr. Dunwoodie has let one or two Tories go at large ; 
 but the troop of Captain Lawton is quartered some half mile nearer, 
 and his receipt will get me the reward as soon as his Major’s; how 
 relish you the idea of supping with Captain Lawton, this evening, 
 Mr. Birch ?” 
 
 “ Give me my money, or set Harvey free,” cried the spinster in 
 alarm. 
 
 “Your bribe was not enough, good woman, unless there is money 
 in this bed :” thrusting his bayonet through the ticking, and ripping 
 it for some distance, he took a malicious satisfaction in scattering its 
 contents about the room. 
 
 “ If,” cried the housekeeper, losing sight of her personal danger, 
 in care for her newly-acquired property, “ there is law in the land, 
 I will be righted !” 
 
 “ The law of the neutral ground is the law of the strongest ; but 
 your tongue is not as long as my bayonet; you had, therefore, best 
 not set them at loggerheads, or you might be the loser.” 
 
 A figure stood in the shadow of the door, as if afraid to be seen 
 in the group of Skinners; but a blaze of light, raised by some arti- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 205 
 
 cles thrown in the fire by his persecutors, showed the pedler the face 
 of the purchaser of his little domain. Occasionally there was some 
 whispering between this man and the Skinner nearest him, that in- 
 duced Harvey to suspect he had been the dupe of a contrivance in 
 which that wretch had participated. It was, however, too late to 
 repine ; and he followed the party from the house with a firm and 
 collected tread, as if marching to a triumph, and not to a gallows. 
 In passing through the yard, the leader of the band fell over a billet 
 of wood, and received a momentary hurt from the fall : exasperated 
 at the incident, the fellow sprang on his feet, filling the air with 
 execrations. 
 
 “ The curse of Heaven light on the log !” he exclaimed ; “ the 
 night is too dark for us to move in : throw that brand of fire in yon 
 pile of tow, to light up the scene.” 
 
 “Hold!” roared the speculator ; “ you T1 fire the house.” 
 
 “And see the farther,” said the other, hurling the brand in the 
 midst of the combustibles. In an instant the building was in flames. 
 “ Come on ; let us move towards the heights while we have light to 
 pick our road.” 
 
 “ Villain !” cried the exasperated purchaser, “ is this your friend- 
 ship — this my reward for kidnapping the pedler ?” 
 
 “’T would be wise to move more from the light, if you mean to 
 entertain us with abuse, or we may see too well to miss our mark,” 
 cried the leader of the gang. The next instant he was as good as 
 his threat, but happily missed the terrified speculator and equally 
 appalled spinster, who saw herself again reduced from comparative 
 wealth to poverty, by the blow. Prudence dictated to the pair a 
 speedy retreat: and the next morning, the only remains of the 
 dwelling of the pedler was the huge chimney we have already men- 
 tioned 
 
CHAPTEK XV. 
 
 Trifles, light as air, 
 
 Are to the jealous confirmations strong 
 As proofs from holy writ. 
 
 Moor of Venice . 
 
 The weather, which had been mild and clear since the storm, now 
 changed with the suddenness of the American climate. Towards 
 evening the cold blasts poured down from the mountains, and flur- 
 ries of snow plainly indicated that the month of November had ar- 
 rived; a season whose temperature varies from the heats of summer 
 to the cold of winter. Frances had stood at the window of her own 
 apartment, watching the slow progress of the funeral procession, with 
 a melancholy that was too deep to be excited by the spectacle. There 
 was something ill the sad office that was in unison with her feelings. 
 As she gazed around, she saw the trees bending to the force of the 
 wind, that swept through the valley with an impetuosity that shook 
 even the buildings ; and the forest, that had so lately glittered in the 
 sun with its variegated hues, was fast losing its loveliness, as the 
 leaves were torn from the branches, and were driving irregularly 
 before the eddies of the blast. A few of the southern dragoons, who 
 were patrolling the passes which led to the encampment of the corps, 
 could be distinguished at a distance on the heights, bending to their 
 pommels as they faced the keen air which had so lately traversed the 
 great fresh- water lakes, and drawing their watch-coats about them in 
 tighter folds. 
 
 Frances witnessed the disappearance of the wooden tenement of 
 che deceased, as it was slowly lowered from the light of day; and 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 20T 
 
 the sight added to the chilling dreariness of the view. Captain Sin- 
 gleton was sleeping under the care of his own man, while his sister 
 had been persuaded to take possession of her room, for the purpose 
 of obtaining the repose of which her last night’s journeying had 
 robbed her. The apartment of Miss Singleton communicated with 
 the room occupied by the sisters, through a private door, as well as 
 through the ordinary passage of the house; this door was partly 
 open, and Frances moved towards it, with the benevolent intention 
 of ascertaining the situation of her guest, when the surprised girl 
 saw her whom she had thought to be sleeping, not only awake, but 
 employed in a manner that banished all probability of present repose. 
 The black tresses, that during the dinner had been drawn in close 
 folds over the crown of the head, were now loosened, and fell in pro 
 fusion over her shoulders and bosom, imparting a slight degree of 
 wildness to her countenance ; the chilling white of her complexir.n 
 was strongly contrasted with eyes of the deepest black, that were fixed 
 in rooted attention on a picture she held in her hand. Frances 
 hardly breathed, as she was enabled, by a movement of Isabella, to 
 see that it was the figure of a man in the well-known dress of the 
 southern horse ; but she gasped for breath, and instinctively laid her 
 hand on her heart to quell its throbbings, as she thought she recog- 
 nised the lineaments that were so deeply seated in her own imagina- 
 tion. Frances felt she was improperly prying into the sacred pri- 
 vacy of another ; but her emotions were too powerful to permit her 
 to speak, and she drew back to a chair, where she still retained a 
 view of the stranger, from whose countenance she felt it to be im- 
 possible to withdraw her eyes. Isabella was too much engrossed by 
 her own feelings to discover the trembling figure of the witness to 
 her actions, and she pressed the inanimate image to her lips, with 
 an enthusiasm that denoted the most intense passion. The expres- 
 sion of the countenance of the fair stranger was so changeable, and 
 the transitions were so rapid, that Frances had scarcely time to dis- 
 tinguish the character of the emotion, before it was succeeded by 
 
208 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 another, equally powerful and equally attractive. Admiration and 
 sorrow were, however, the preponderating passions ; the latter was 
 indicated by large drops that fell from her eyes on the picture, and 
 which followed each other over her cheek at such intervals, as seemed 
 to pronounce the grief too heavy to admit of the ordinary demonstra- 
 tions of sorrow. Every movement of Isabella was marked by an 
 enthusiasm that was peculiar to her nature, and every passion in its 
 turn triumphed in her breast. The fury of the wind, as it whistled 
 round the angles of the building, was in consonance with those feel- 
 ings, and she rose and moved to a window of her apartment. Her 
 figure was now hid from the view of Frances, who was about to rise 
 and approach her guest, when tones of a thrilling melody chained 
 her in breathless silence to the spot. The notes were wild, and the 
 voice not powerful, but the execution exceeded any thing that Fran- 
 ces had ever heard ; and she stood, endeavouring to stifle the sounds 
 of her own gentle breathing, until the following song was con- 
 ?>aded : — 
 
 Cold blow the blasts o’er the tops of the mountain, 
 
 And bare is the oak on the hill ; 
 
 Slowly the vapours exhale from the fountain, 
 
 And bright gleams the iee-border’d rill ; 
 
 All nature is seeking its annual rest, 
 
 But the slumbers of peace have deserted my breast. 
 
 Long has the storm pour’d its weight on my nation, 
 
 And long have her brave stood the shock ; 
 
 Long has our chieftain ennobled his station, 
 
 A bulwark on liberty’s rock ; — 
 
 Unlicensed ambition relaxes its toil, 
 
 Yet blighted affection represses my smile. 
 
 Abroad the wild fury of winter is lowering, 
 
 And leafless and drear is the tree ; 
 
 But the vertical sun of the south appears pouring 
 Its fierce killing heats upon me : — 
 
 Without, all the season’s chill symptoms begin — 
 
 But the fire of passion is raging within. 
 
 Frances abandoned her whole soul to the suppressed melody of 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 200 
 
 the music, though the language of the song expressed a meaning, 
 which, united with certain events of that and the preceding day, left 
 a sensation of uneasiness in the bosom of the warm-hearted girl, to 
 which she had hitherto been a stranger. Isabella moved from the 
 window as her last tones melted on the ear of her admiring listener, 
 and, for the first time, her eye rested on the pallid face of the intru- 
 der. A glow of fire lighted the countenance of both at the same in- 
 stant, and the blue eye of Frances met the brilliant black one of her 
 guest for a single moment, and both fell in abashed confusion on the 
 carpet ; they advanced, however, until they met, and had taken each 
 other’s hand, before either ventured again to look her companion in 
 the face. 
 
 “ This sudden change in the weather, and perhaps the situation 
 of my brother, have united to make me melancholy, Miss Wharton,” 
 said Isabella, in a low tone, and in a voice that trembled as she 
 spoke. 
 
 “ ’T is thought you have little to apprehend for your brother,” 
 said Frances, in the same embarrassed manner; “had you seen him 
 when he was brought in by Major Dunwoodie — ” 
 
 Frances paused, with a feeling of conscious shame, for which she 
 could not account; and, in raising her eyes, she saw Isabella study- 
 ing her countenance with an earnestness that again drove the blood 
 tumultuously to her templls. 
 
 “ You were speaking of Major Dunwoodie,” said Isabella, faintly. 
 
 “ He was with Captain Singleton.” 
 
 “ Do you know Dunwoodie ? have you seen him often ?” Once 
 more Frances ventured to look her guest in the face, and again she 
 met the piercing eyes bent on her, as if to search her inmost heart. 
 “Speak, Miss Wharton; is Major Dunwoodie known to you?” 
 
 “ He is my relative,” said Frances, appalled at the manner of the 
 other. 
 
 “ A relative !” echoed Miss Singleton ; “ in what degree ? — speak, 
 Miss Wharton, I conjure you to speak.” 
 
210 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u Our parents were cousins/’ faintly replied Frances. 
 
 “ And he is to be your husband l" said the stranger, impetuously. 
 
 Frances felt shocked, and cill her pride awakened, by this direct 
 attack upon her feelings, and she raised her eyes from the floor to 
 her interrogator a little proudly, when the pale cheek and quivering 
 lip of Isabella removed her resentment in a moment. 
 
 “ It is true ! my conjecture is true : speak to me, Miss Wharton ; 
 I conjure you, in mercy to my feelings, to tell me — do you love 
 Dunwoodie V 9 There was a plaintive earnestness in the voice of 
 Miss Singleton, that disarmed Frances of all resentment, and the 
 only answer she could make was hiding her burning face between 
 her hands, as she sunk back in a chair to conceal her confusion. 
 
 Isabella paced the floor in silence for several minutes, until she 
 had succeeded in conquering the violence of her feelings, when she 
 approached the place where Frances yet sat, endeavouring to exclude 
 the eyes of her companion from reading the shame expressed in her 
 countenance, and, taking the hand of the other, she spoke with an 
 evident effort at composure. 
 
 u Pardon me, Miss Wharton, if my ungovernable feelings have 
 led me into impropriety; the powerful motive — the cruel reason — 99 
 she hesitated; Frances now raised her face, and their eyes once 
 more met; they fell in each other’s arms, and laid their burning 
 cheeks together. The embrace was long — was ardent and sincere — 
 but neither spoke ; and on separating, Frances retired to her own 
 room without further explanation. 
 
 While this extraordinary scene was acting in the room of Miss 
 Singleton, matters of great importance were agitated in the drawing- 
 room. The disposition of the fragments of such a dinner as the one 
 we have recorded, was a task that required no little exertion and 
 calculation Notwithstanding several of the small game had nestled 
 in the pocket of Captain Lawton’s man, and even the assistant of 
 Dr. Sitgreaves had calculated the uncertainty of his remaining long 
 in such good quarters, still there was more left, unconsumed, than 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 211 
 
 the prudent Miss Peyton knew how to dispose of to advantage. 
 Caesar and his mistress had, therefore, a long and confidential com- 
 munication on this important business ; and the consequence was, 
 that Colonel Wellmere was left to the hospitality of Sarah Wharton. 
 All the ordinary topics of conversation were exhausted, when the 
 Colonel, with a little of the uneasiness that is in some degree inse- 
 parable from conscious error, touched lightly on the transactions of 
 the preceding day. 
 
 “We little thought, Miss Wharton, when I first saw this Mr. 
 Dunwoodie in your house in Queen Street, that he was to be the 
 renowned warrior he has proved himself,” said Wellmere, endeavour- 
 ing to smile away his chagrin. 
 
 “Renowned, when we consider the enemy he overcame,” said 
 Sarah., with consideration for her companion’s feelings. “’Twas 
 most unfortunate, indeed, in every respect, that you met with the 
 accident, or doubtless the royal arms would have triumphed in their 
 usual manner.” 
 
 “ And yet the pleasure of such society as this accident has intro- 
 duced me to, would more than repay the pain of a mortified spirit 
 and wounded body,” added the Colonel, in a manner of peculiar 
 softness. 
 
 “ I hope the latter is but trifling,” said Sarah, stooping to hide 
 her blushes under the pretext of biting a thread from the work on 
 her knee. 
 
 “ Trifling, indeed, compared to the former,” returned the Colonel, 
 in the same manner. “ Ah ! Miss Wharton, it is in such moments 
 that we feel the full value of friendship and sympathy.” 
 
 Those who have never tried it cannot easily imagine what a rapid 
 progress a warm-hearted female can make in love, in the short space 
 of half an hour, particularly where there is a predisposition to the 
 distemper. Sarah found the conversation, when it began to touch 
 on friendship and sympathy, too interesting to venture her voice 
 
212 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 witli a reply. She, however, turned her eyes on the Colonel, and 
 saw him gazing at her fine face with an admiration that was quite as 
 manifest, and much more soothing, than any words could make it. 
 
 Their tete-a-tete was uninterrupted for an hour; and although 
 nothing that would he called decided, by an experienced matron, 
 was said by the gentleman, he uttered a thousand things that 
 delighted his companion, who retired to her rest with a lighter heart 
 than she had felt since the arrest of her brother by the Americans. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 And let me the canakin clink, clink : 
 
 And let me the canakin clink. 
 
 A soldier ’s a man ; 
 
 A life ’s but a span ; 
 
 Why then, let a soldier drink. 
 
 Iago. 
 
 The position held by the corps of dragoons, we have already said, 
 was a favourite place of halting with their commander. A cluster 
 of some half-dozen small and dilapidated buildings formed what, from 
 the circumstance of two roads intersecting each other at right angles, 
 was called the village of the Four Corners. As usual, one of the 
 most imposing of these edifices had been termed, in the language of 
 the day, u a house of entertainment for man and beast / 5 On a 
 rough board suspended from the gallows-looking post that had sup- 
 ported the ancient sign, was, however, written in red chalk, “ Eliza- 
 beth Flanagan , her hotel,’ an ebullition of the wit of some of the 
 idle wags of the corps. The matron, whose name had thus been 
 exalted to an office of such unexpected dignity, ordinarily discharged 
 the duties of a female sutler, washerwoman, and, to use the language 
 of Katy Haynes, petticoat doctor to the troops. She was the widow 
 of a soldier who had been killed in the service, and who, like her- 
 self, was a native of a distant island, and had early tried his fortune 
 in the colonies of North America. She constantly migrated with 
 the troops; and it was seldom that they became stationary for two 
 days at a time but the little cart of the bustling woman was seen 
 driving into the encampment, loaded with such articles as she con- 
 
214 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 ceived would make her presence most welcome. With a celerity 
 that seemed almost supernatural, Betty took up her ground and 
 commenced her occupation. Sometimes the cart itself was her shop ; 
 at others the soldiers made her a rude shelter of such materials as 
 offered; but on the present occasion she had seized on a vacant 
 building, and, by dint of stuffing the dirty breeches and half-dried 
 linen of the troopers into the broken windows, to exclude the cold, 
 which had now become severe, she formed what she herself had pro- 
 nounced to be u most litigant lodgings.” The men were quartered 
 in the adjacent barns, and the officers collected in the u Hotel Flan- 
 agan,” as they facetiously called head-quarters. Betty was well 
 known to every trooper in the corps, could call each by his Christian 
 or nickname, as best suited her fancy; and, although absolutely 
 intolerable to all whom habit had not made familiar with her virtues, 
 was a general favourite with these partisan warriors. Her faults 
 were, a trifling love of liquor, excessive filthiness, and a total disre- 
 gard of all the decencies of language; her virtues, an unbounded 
 love for her adopted country, perfect honesty when dealing on cer- 
 tain known principles with the soldiery, and great good-nature. 
 Added to these, Betty had the merit of being the inventor of that 
 beverage which is so well known, at the present hour, to all the 
 patriots who make a winter’s march between the commercial and 
 political capitals of this great state, and which is distinguished by 
 the name of u cock-tail.” Elizabeth Flanagan was peculiarly well 
 qualified, by education and circumstances, to perfect this improve- 
 ment in liquors, having been literally brought up on its principal 
 ingredient, and having acquired from her Virginian customers the 
 use of mint, from its flavour in a julep to its height of renown in the 
 article in question. Such, then, was the mistress of the mansion, 
 who, reckless of the cold northern blasts, showed her blooming face 
 from the door of the building to welcome the arrival of her favourite, 
 Captain Lawton, and his companion, her master in matters of 
 surgery. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 215 
 
 “ Ah ! by my hopes of promotion, my gentle Elizabeth, but you 
 are welcome !” cried the trooper, as he threw himself from his sad- 
 dle; “this yillanous fresh-water gas from the Canadas has been 
 whistling among my bones till they ache with the cold, but the sight 
 of your fiqry countenance is as cheering as a Christmas fire.” 
 
 “Now sure, Captain Jack, yee's always full of your eompliment- 
 aries,” replied the sutler, taking the bridle of her customer; “but 
 hurry in for the life of you, darling ; the fences hereabouts are not 
 so strong as in the Highlands, and there 's that within will warm 
 both sowl and body.” 
 
 “ So you have been laying the rails under contribution, I see : 
 well, that may do for the body,” said the Captain, coolly ; “ but I 
 have had a pull at a bottle of cut-glass with a silver stand, and I 
 doubt my relish for your whiskey for a month to come.” 
 
 “If it ^s silver or goold that yee'r thinking of, it 's but little I 
 have, though I've a trifling bit of the continental,” said Betty, with 
 a look of humour; “but there 's that within that's fit to be put in 
 vissels of diamonds.” 
 
 “What caD she mean, Archibald?” asked Lawton: “the animal 
 looks as if it meant more than it says !” 
 
 “'Tis probably a wandering of the reasoning powers, created by 
 the frequency of intoxicating draughts,” observed the surgeon, as he 
 deliberately threw his left leg over the pommel of the saddle, and 
 slid down on the right side of his horse. 
 
 “ Faith, my dear jewel of a doctor, but it was this side I was ex- 
 piring you ; the whole corps come down on this side but yeerself,” 
 said Betty, winking at the trooper : “ but I 've been feeding the 
 wounded, in yeer absence, with the fat of the land.” 
 
 “ Barbarous stupidity !” cried the panic-stricken physician, “ to 
 feed men labouring under the excitement of fever with powerful 
 nutriment: woman, woman, you are enough to defeat the skill of 
 Hippocrates !” 
 
 “ Pooh !” said Betty, with infinite composure, “ what a bothera 
 
210 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 tion yet make about a little whiskey; there was but a gallon betwixt 
 a good two dozen of them, and I gave it to the boys to make them 
 sleep asy; sure, jist as slumbering drops.” 
 
 Lawton and his companion now entered the building, and the first 
 objects which met their eyes explained the hidden iueaning of 
 Betty’s comfortable declaration. A long table, made of boards torn 
 from the side of an out-building, was stretched through the middle 
 of the largest apartment, or the bar-room, and on it was a very 
 scanty display of crockery ware. The steams of cookery arose from 
 an adjoining kitchen, but the principal attraction was in a demijohn 
 of fair proportions, which had been ostentatiously placed on high by 
 Betty as the object most worthy of notice. Lawton soon learnt that 
 it was teeming with the real amber-coloured juice of the grape, and 
 had been sent from the Locusts, as an offering to Major Dunwoodie, 
 from his friend Captain Wharton, of the royal army. 
 
 “ And a royal gift it is,” said the grinning subaltern, who made 
 the explanation. u The Major gives us an entertainment in honour 
 of our victory, and you see the principal expense is borne, as it should 
 be, by the enemy. Zounds, I am thinking that after we have primed 
 with such stuff, we could charge through Sir Henry’s head-quarters, 
 and carry off the knight himself.” 
 
 The Captain of dragoons was in no manner displeased at the pros- 
 pect of terminating so pleasantly a day that had been so agreeably 
 commenced. He was soon surrounded by his comrades, who made 
 many eager enquiries concerning his adventures, while the surgeon 
 proceeded, with certain quakings of the heart, to examine into the 
 state of his wounded. Enormous fires were snapping in the chim- 
 neys of the house, superseding the necessity of candles, by the bright 
 light which was thrown from the blazing piles. The group within 
 were all young men, and tried soldiers; in number they were rather 
 more than a dozen, and their manners and conversation were a strange 
 mixture of the bluntness of the partisan with the manners of gentle- 
 men. Their dresses were neat, though plain; and a never-failing 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 217 
 
 topic amongst them was the performance and quality of their horses. 
 Some were endeavouring to sleep on the benches which lined the 
 walls, some were walking the apartments, and others were seated in 
 earnest discussion on subjects connected with the business of their 
 lives. Occasionally, as the door of the kitchen opened, the hissing 
 sounds of the frying-pans and the inviting savour of the food created 
 a stagnation in all other employments; even the sleepers, at such 
 moments, would open their eyes, and raise their heads, to reconnoitre 
 the state of the preparations. All this time Dunwoodie sat by him- 
 self, gazing at the fire, and lost in reflections which none of his offi- 
 cers presumed to disturb. He had made earnest enquiries of Sit- 
 greaves after the condition of Singleton, during which a profound 
 and respectful silence was maintained in the room ; but as soon as 
 he had ended, and resumed his seat, the usual ease and freedom 
 prevailed. 
 
 The arrangement of the table was a matter of but little concern 
 to Mrs. Flanagan ; and Caesar would have been sadly scandalized at 
 witnessing the informality with which various dishes, each bearing 
 a wonderful resemblance to the others, were placed before so many 
 gentlemen of consideration. In taking their places at the board, 
 the strictest attention was paid to precedency ; for, notwithstanding 
 the freedom of manners which prevailed in the corps, the points of 
 military etiquette were at all times observed, with something ap- 
 proaching to religious veneration. Most of the guests had been 
 fasting too long to be in any degree fastidious in their appetites; 
 but the case was different with Captain Lawton ; he felt an unac- 
 countable loathing at the exhibition of Betty’s food, and could not 
 refrain from making a few parsing comments on the condition of the 
 knives, and the clouded aspect of the plates. The good-nature and 
 the personal affection of Betty for the offender, restrained her, for 
 some time, from answering his innuendoes, until Lawton, having 
 ventured to admit a piece of the black meat into his mouth , enquired, 
 with the affectation of a spoiled child, — 
 
 10 
 
218 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ What kind of animal might this have been when living, Mrs. 
 Flanagan ?” 
 
 “ Sure, Captain, and wasn’t it the ould cow,” replied the sutler, 
 with a warmth that proceeded partly from dissatisfaction at the com- 
 plaints of her favourite, and partly from grief at the loss of th^ de- 
 ceased. 
 
 “ What !” roared the trooper, stopping short as he was about to 
 swallow his morsel, “ ancient J enny !” 
 
 “The devil!” cried another, dropping his knife and fork, “she 
 who made the campaign of the Jerseys with us ?” 
 
 “ The very same,” replied the mistress of the hotel, with a piteous 
 aspect of woe ; “a gentle baste, and one that could and did live on 
 less than air, at need. Sure, gentlemen, ’tis awful to have to eat 
 sitch an ould friend.” 
 
 “And has she sunk to this?” said Lawton, pointing with his 
 knife to the remnants on the table. 
 
 “Nay, Captain,” said Betty, with spirit, “I sould two of her 
 quarters to some of your troop ; but divil the word did I tell the 
 boys what an ould frind it was they had bought, for fear it might 
 damage their appetites.” 
 
 “ Fury !” cried the trooper, with affected anger, “ I shall have 
 my fellows as limber as supple-jacks on such fare; afraid of an 
 Englishman as a Virginian negro is of his driver.” 
 
 “Well,” said Lieutenant Mason, dropping his knife and fork in 
 a kind of despair, “my jaws have more sympathy than many men’s 
 hearts. They absolutely decline making any impression on the 
 relics of their old acquaintance.” 
 
 “ Try a drop of the gift,” said Betty, soothingly, pouring a large 
 allowance of the wine into a bowl, and drinking it off as taster to 
 the corps. “ Faith, ’t is but a wishy-washy sort of stuff after all !” 
 The ice once broken, however, a clear glass of wine was handed 
 to Dunwoodie, who, bowing to his companions, drank the liquor in 
 the midst of a profound silence. For a few glasses there was much 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 219 
 
 formality observed, and sundry patriotic toasts and sentiments were 
 duly noticed by the company. The liquor, however, performed its 
 wonted office ; and before the second sentinel at the door had been 
 relieved, all recollection of the dinner and their cares was lost in the 
 present festivity. Dr. Sitgreaves did not return in season to partake 
 of Jenny, but he was in time to receive his fair proportion of Cap- 
 tain Wharton’s present. 
 
 “ A song, a song from Captain Lawton !” cried two or three of 
 the party in a breath, on observing the failure of some of the points 
 of good-fellowship in the trooper ; “ silence, for the song of Captain 
 Lawton.” 
 
 “ Gentlemen,” returned Lawton, his dark eyes swimming with 
 the bumpers he had finished, though his head was as impenetrable 
 as a post ; “ I am not much of a nightingale, but, under the favour 
 of your good wishes, I consent to comply with the demand.” 
 
 “Now, Jack,” said Sitgreaves, nodding on his seat, “remember 
 the air I taught you, and — stop, I have a copy of the words in my 
 pocket.” 
 
 “ Forbear, forbear, good doctor,” said the trooper, filling his glass 
 with great deliberation; “I never could wheel round those hard 
 names. Gentlemen, I will give you an humble attempt of my own.” 
 
 “ Silence, for Captain Lawton’s song !” roared five or six at once ; 
 when the trooper proceeded, in a fine full tone, to sing the following- 
 words to a well-known bacchanalian air, several of his comrades 
 helping him through the chorus with a fervour that shook the crazy 
 edifice they were in : — 
 
 Now push the mug, my jolly boys, 
 
 And live, while live we can, 
 
 To-morrow’s sun may end your joys. 
 
 For brief’s the hour of man. 
 
 And he who bravely meets the foe 
 His lease of life can never know. 
 
 Old mother Flanagan 
 Come and fill the can again ; 
 
 For you can fill, and we can swill. 
 
 Good Betty Flanagan. 
 
220 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 If love of life pervades your breast. 
 
 Or love of ease your frame, 
 
 Quit honour’s path for peaceful rest, 
 
 And bear a coward’s name ; 
 
 For soon and late, we danger know, 
 
 And fearless on the saddle go. 
 
 Old mother, &c. 
 
 When foreign foes invade the land, 
 
 And wives and sweethearts call : 
 
 In freedom’s cause we ’ll bravely stand, 
 
 Or will as bravely fall. 
 
 In this fair home the fates have given, 
 
 We ’ll live as lords, or live in heaven. 
 
 Old mother, &c. 
 
 At each appeal made to herself, by the united voices of the choir, 
 Betty invariably advanced and complied literally with the request 
 contained in the chorus, to the infinite delight of the singers, and 
 with no small participation in the satisfaction on her own account. 
 The hostess was provided with a beverage more suited to the high 
 seasoning to which she had accustomed her palate, than the tasteless 
 present of Captain Wharton ; by which means Betty had managed, 
 with tolerable facility, to keep even pace with the exhilaration of 
 her guests. The applause received by Captain Lawton was general, 
 with the exception of the surgeon, who rose from the bench during 
 the first chorus, and paced the floor, in a flow of classical indigna- 
 tion. The bravos and bravissimos drowned all other noises for a 
 short time ; but as they gradually ceased, the doctor turned to the 
 musician, and exclaimed, with heat — 
 
 “ Captain Lawton, I marvel that a gentleman, and a gallant officer, 
 can find no other subject for his muse, in these times of trial, than 
 in such beastly invocations to that notorious follower of the camp, 
 the filthy Elizabeth Flanagan. Methinks the goddess of Liberty 
 could furnish a more noble inspiration, and the sufferings of your 
 country a more befitting theme.” 
 
 “ Heyday !” shouted the hostess, advancing towards him in a 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 221 
 
 threatening attitude ; “ and who is it that calls me filthy ? Master 
 squirt ! Master pop-gun — ” 
 
 “ Peace !” said Dunwoodie, in a voice that was exerted hut a little 
 more than common, but which was succeeded by the stillness of 
 death ; u woman, leave the room. Dr. Sitgreaves, I call you to your 
 seat, to wait the order of the revels.” 
 
 “ Proceed, proceed,” said the surgeon, drawing himself ,up in an 
 attitude of dignified composure ; u I trust, Major Dunwoodie, I am 
 not unacquainted with the rules of decorum, nor ignorant of the bye- 
 laws of good-fellowship.” Betty made a hasty but somewhat devious 
 retreat to her own dominions, being unaccustomed to dispute the 
 orders of the commanding officer. 
 
 u Major Dunwoodie will honour us with a sentimental song,” said 
 Lawton, bowing to his leader, with the collected manner he so well 
 knew how to assume. 
 
 The Major hesitated a moment, and then sang, with fine execu- 
 tion, the following words : — 
 
 Some love the heats of southern suns, 
 
 Where life’s warm current maddening runs, 
 
 In one quick circling stream ; 
 
 But dearer far ’s the mellow light 
 Which trembling shines, reflected bright 
 In Luna’s milder beam. 
 
 Some love the tulip’s gaudier dyes, 
 
 Where deepening blue with yellow vies, 
 
 And gorgeous beauty glows ; 
 
 But happier he, whose bridal wreath, 
 
 By love entwined, is found to breathe 
 The sweetness of the rose. 
 
 The voice of Dunwoodie never lost its authority with his inferiors ; 
 and the applause which followed his song, though by no means so 
 riotous as that which succeeded the effort of the Captain, was much 
 more flattering. 
 
 u If, sir,” said the doctor, after joining in the plaudits of his com- 
 
222 
 
 THE S t> Y. 
 
 panions, “you would but learn to unite classical allusions with 
 your delicate imagination, you would become a pretty amateur 
 poet. 
 
 “ He who criticises ought to be able to perform/' ’ said Dunwoodie, 
 with a smile. “ I call on Dr. Sitgreaves for a specimen of the style 
 lie admires.” 
 
 “ Dr. Sitgreaves’ song ! Dr. Sitgreaves’ song !” echoed all at the 
 table with delight ; “ a classical ode from Dr. Sitgreaves !” 
 
 The surgeon made a complacent bow, took the remnant of hi 
 glass, and gave a few preliminary hems, that served hugely to de- 
 light three or four young cornets at the foot of the table. He then 
 commenced singing, in a cracked voice, and to any thing but a tune, 
 the following ditty : — 
 
 Hast thou ever felt love’s dart, dearest, 
 
 Or breathed his trembling sigh — 
 
 Thought him, afar, was ever nearest, 
 
 Before that sparkling eye ? 
 
 Then hast thou known what ’t is to feel 
 The pain that Galen could not heal. 
 
 “ Hurrah !” shouted Lawton : “ Archibald eclipses the muses 
 themselves ; his words flow like the sylvan stream by moonlight, and 
 his melody is a cross breed of the nightingale and the owl.” 
 
 “Captain Lawton,” cried the exasperated operator, “it is one 
 thing to despise the lights of classical learning, and another to be 
 despised for your own ignorance !” 
 
 A loud summons at the door of the building created a dead halt 
 in the uproar, and the dragoons instinctively caught up their arms, 
 to be prepared for the worst. The door was opened, and the Skin- 
 ners entered, dragging in the pedler, bending beneath the load of 
 his pack. 
 
 “ Which is Captain Lawton ?” said the leader of the gang, gazing 
 around him in some little astonishment. 
 
 “He waits your pleasure,” said the trooper, drily. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 223 
 
 v Then here I deliver to your hands a condemned tiaitor : this is 
 Harvey Birch, the pedler spy.” 
 
 Lawton started as he looked his old acquaintance in the face, and, 
 turning to the Skinner with a lowering look, he asked — 
 
 “ And who are you, sir, that speak so freely of your neighbours ? 
 
 - - But,” bowing to Dunwoodie, “ your pardon, sir ; here is the 
 commanding officer; to him you will please address yourself."" 
 
 “No,” said the man, sullenly, “it is to you I deliver the pedler, 
 and from you I claim my reward/" 
 
 “Are you Harvey Birch ?"" said Dunwoodie, advancing with 
 an air of authority that instantly drove the Skinner to a corner of 
 the room. 
 
 “I am,” said Birch, proudly. 
 
 “And a traitor to your country,” continued the Major, with stern- 
 ness; “do you know that I should be justified in ordering your 
 execution this night?"" 
 
 “ "T is not the will of God to call a soul so hastily to his pre- 
 sence,"" said the pedler, with solemnity. 
 
 “You speak truth,"" said Dunwoodie; “and a few brief hours 
 shall be added to your life. But as your offence is most odious to a 
 soldier, so it will be sure to meet with the soldier’s vengeance : you 
 die to-morrow."" 
 
 “"Tis as God wills."" 
 
 “ I have spent many a good hour to entrap the villain,"" said the 
 Skinner, advancing a little from his corner, “ and I hope you will 
 give me a certificate that will entitle us to the reward; "twas pro- 
 mised to be paid in gold."" 
 
 “Major Dunwoodie,"" said the officer of the day, entering the 
 room, “the patroles report a house to be burnt near yesterday’s 
 battle-ground."" 
 
 “"Twas the hut of the pedler,"" muttered the leader of the 
 gang ; “ we have not left him a shingle for shelter ; I should have 
 
224 
 
 1 H E SPY. 
 
 burnt it months ago, but I wanted his shed for a trap to catch the 
 sly fox in.” 
 
 “ You seem a most ingenious patriot,” said Lawton. “ Majoi 
 Dunwoodie, I second the request of this worthy gentleman, an J 
 crave the office of bestowing the reward on him and his fellows.” 
 
 “Take it; — and you, miserable man, prepare for that fate 
 which will surely befall you before the setting of to-morrow's sun.” 
 
 “Life offers but little to tempt me with,” said Harvey, slowly 
 raising his eyes, and gazing wildly at the strange faces in the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 “ Come, worthy children of America !” said Lawton, “ follow, and 
 receive your reward.” 
 
 The gang eagerly accepted the invitation, and followed the cap- 
 tain towards the quarters assigned to his troop. Dunwoodie paused 
 a moment, from reluctance to triumph over a fallen foe, before he 
 proceeded. 
 
 “You have already been tried, Harvey Birch ; and the truth has 
 proved you to be an enemy too dangerous to the liberties of America 
 to be suffered to live.” 
 
 “ The truth !” echoed the pedler, starting, and raising himself in 
 a manner that disregarded the weight of his pack. 
 
 “Ay! the truth; you were charged with loitering near the con- 
 tinental army, to gain intelligence of its movements, and, by com- 
 municating them to the enemy, to enable him to frustrate the inten- 
 tions of Washington.” 
 
 “Will Washington say so, think you?” 
 
 “Doubtless he would; even the justice of Washington con- 
 demns you.” 
 
 “ No, no, no,” cried the pedler, in a voice and with a manner that 
 startled Dunwoodie ; “ Washington can see beyond the hollow views 
 of pretended patriots. Has he not risked his all on the cast of a 
 die? if a gallows is ready for me, was there not one for him also? 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 225 
 
 No, no, no, no — Washington would never say, 6 Lead him to a 
 gallows/ ” 
 
 “ Have you any thing, wretched man, to urge to the commander- 
 in-chief why you should not die V 9 said the Major, recovering from 
 the surprise created by the manner of the other. 
 
 Birch trembled, for violent emotions were contending in his 
 bosom. His face assumed the ghastly paleness of death, and his 
 hand drew a box of tin from the folds of his shirt ; he opened it, 
 showing by the act that it contained a small piece of paper : on 
 this document his eye was for an instant fixed — he had already 
 held it towards Dunwoodie, when suddenly withdrawing his hand, 
 he exclaimed — 
 
 “No — it dies with me; I know the conditions of my service, 
 and will not purchase life with their forfeiture — it dies with me.” 
 
 “ Deliver that paper, and you may possibly find favour,” cried 
 Dunwoodie, expecting a discovery of importance to the cause. 
 
 “ It dies with me,” repeated Birch, a flush passing over his pallid 
 features, and lighting them with extraordinary brilliancy. 
 
 “ Seize the traitor !” cried the Major, “and wrest the secret from 
 his hands.” 
 
 The order was immediately obeyed; but the movements of the 
 pedler were too quick ; in an instant he swallowed the paper. The 
 officers paused in astonishment; but the surgeon cried eagerly — 
 
 “ Hold him, while I administer an emetic.” 
 
 “ Forbear !” said Dunwoodie, beckoning him back with his hand ; 
 “if his crime is great, so will his punishment be heavy.” 
 
 “ Lead on,” cried the pedler, dropping his pack from his shoul- 
 ders, and advancing towards the door with a manner of incompre- 
 hensible dignity. 
 
 “ Whither ?” asked Dunwoodie, in amazement. 
 
 “ To the gallows.” 
 
 “'No,” said the Major, recoiling in horror at his own justice. 
 
 10 * 
 
226 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ My duty requires that I order you to be executed, but surely 
 not so hastily; take until nine to-morrow to prepare for the awful 
 change. 
 
 Dunwoodie whispered his orders in the ear of a subaltern, and 
 motioned to the pedler to withdraw. The interruption caused by 
 this scene prevented further enjoyment around the table, and the 
 officers dispersed to their several places of rest. In a short time the 
 only noise to be heard was the heavy tread of the sentinel, as he 
 paced the frozen ground in front of the Hotel Flanagan. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 “There are, whose changing lineaments 
 
 Express each guileless passion of the breast ; 
 
 Where Love, and Hope, and tender-hearted Pity 
 Are seen reflected, as from a mirror’s face ; 
 
 But cold experience can veil these hues 
 With looks, invented shrewdly to encompass 
 The cunning purposes of base deceit.” 
 
 Duo . 
 
 The officer to whose keeping Dunwoodie had committed the pedlei 
 transferred his charge to the custody of the regular sergeant of the 
 guard. The gift of Captain Wharton had not been lost on the 
 youthful lieutenant ; and a certain dancing motion that had taken 
 possession of objects before his eyes, gave him warning of the neces- 
 sity of recruiting nature by sleep. After admonishing the non-com- 
 missioned guardian of Harvey to omit no watchfulness in securing 
 the prisoner, the youth wrapped himself in his cloak, and, stretched 
 on a bench before a fire, soon found the repose he needed. A rude 
 shed extended the whole length of the rear of the building, and from 
 off one of its ends had been partitioned a small apartment, that was 
 intended as a repository for many of the lesser implements of hus- 
 bandry. The lawless times had, however, occasioned its being- 
 stripped of every thing of value ; and the searching eyes of Betty 
 Flanagan selected this spot, on her arrival, as the storehouse for her 
 moveables, and a sanctuary for her person. The spare arms and 
 baggage of the corps had also been deposited here ; and the united 
 treasures were placed under the eye of the sentinel who paraded the 
 shed as a guardian of the rear of the head-quarters. A second sol- 
 
228 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 dier, who was stationed near the house to protect the horses of the 
 officers, could command a view of the outside of the apartment ; and, 
 as it was without window or outlet of any kind, excepting its door, 
 the considerate sergeant thought this the most befitting place in 
 which to deposit his prisoner until the moment of his execution. 
 Several inducements urged Sergeant Hollister to this determination, 
 among which was the absence of the washerwoman, who lay before 
 the kitchen fire, dreaming that the corps was attacking a party of 
 the enemy, and mistaking the noise that proceeded from her own 
 nose for the bugles of the Virginians sounding the charge. Another 
 was the peculiar opinions that the veteran entertained of life and 
 death, and by which he was distinguished in the corps as a man of 
 most exemplary piety and holiness of life. The sergeant was more 
 than fifty years of age, and for half that period he had borne arms. 
 The constant recurrence of sudden deaths before his eyes, had pro- 
 duced an effect on him differing greatly from that which was the 
 usual moral consequence of such scenes; and he had become not 
 only the most steady, but the most trustworthy soldier in his troop. 
 Captain Lawton had rewarded his fidelity by making him its orderly. 
 
 Followed by Birch, the sergeant proceeded in silence to the door 
 of the intended prison, and, throwing it open with one hand, he held 
 a lantern with the other to light the pedler to his prison. Seating 
 himself on a cask, that contained some of Betty’s favourite beverage, 
 the sergeant motioned to Birch to occupy another, in the same man- 
 ner. The lantern was placed on the floor, when the dragoon, after 
 looking his prisoner steadily in the face, observed — 
 
 “ You look as if you would meet death like a man; and I have 
 brought you to a spot where you can tranquilly arrange your thoughts, 
 and be quiet and undisturbed.” 
 
 “’T is a fearful place to prepare for the last change in,” said Har- 
 vey, gazing around his little prison with a vacant eye. 
 
 “Why, for the matter of that,” returned the veteran, “it can 
 reckon but little, in the great account, where a man parades Lis 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 229 
 
 thoughts for the last review, so that he finds them fit to pass the 
 muster of another world. I have a small book here, which I make 
 it a point to read a little in, whenever we are about to engage, and 
 I find it a great strengthener in time of need.” While speaking, he 
 took a Bible from his pocket, and offered it to the pedler. Birch 
 received the volume with habitual reverence ; but there was an ab- 
 stracted air about him, and a wandering of the eye, that induced his 
 companion to think that alarm was getting the mastery of the pedler' s 
 feelings ; accordingly, he proceeded in what he conceived to be the 
 offices of consolation. 
 
 “ If any thing lies heavy on your mind, now is the best time to 
 get rid of it = — if you have done any wrong to any one, I promise 
 you, on the word of an honest dragoon, to lend you a helping hand 
 to see them righted.” 
 
 “ There are few who have not done so,” said the pedler, turning 
 his vacant gaze once more on his companion. 
 
 66 True — 'tis natural to sin — but it sometimes happens, that a 
 man does what at other times he may be sorry for. One would 
 not not wish to die with any very heavy sin on his conscience, 
 after ail.” 
 
 Harvey had by this time thoroughly examined the place in which 
 he was to pass the night, and saw no means of escape. But as hope 
 is ever the last feeling to desert the human breast, the pedler gave 
 the dragoon more of his attention, fixing on his sunburnt features 
 such searching looks, that Sergeant Hollister lowered his eyes before 
 the wild expression which he met in the gaze of his prisoner. 
 
 “ I have been taught to lay the burden of my sins at the feet of 
 my Saviour,” replied the pedler. 
 
 “ Why, yes — all that is well enough,” returned the other * u but 
 justice should be dene while there is opportunity. There have been 
 stirring times in this country since the war began, and many have 
 been deprived of their rightful goods. I oftentimes find it hard to 
 reconcile even my lawful plunder to a tender conscience ” 
 
*230 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u These hands/’ said the pedler, stretching forth his meagre, bon\ 
 fingers, “ have spent yews in toil, but not a moment in pilfering.” 
 “It is well that it is so,” said the honest-hearted soldier; “ and, 
 no doubt, you now feel it a great consolation. There are three great 
 sins, that, if a man can keep his conscience clear of, why, by the 
 mercy of God, he may hope to pass muster with the saints in heaven : 
 they are stealing, murdering, and desertion.” 
 
 “ Thank God !” said Birch with fervour, “ I have never yet taken 
 the life of a fellow-creature.” 
 
 “ As to killing a man in lawful battle, that is no more than doing 
 one’s duty. If the cause is wrong, the sin of such a deed, you 
 know, falls on the nation, and a man receives his punishment here 
 with the rest of the people ; but murdering in cold blood stands next 
 to desertion as a crime in the eye of God.” 
 
 “ I never was a soldier, therefore never could desert,” said the 
 pedler, resting his face on his hand in a melancholy attitude. 
 
 u Why, desertion consists of more than quitting your colours, 
 though that is certainly the worst kind; a man may desert his 
 country in the hour of need.” 
 
 Birch buried his face in both his hands, and his whole frame 
 shook; the sergeant regarded him closely, but good feelings soon 
 got the better of his antipathies, and he continued more mildly — 
 u But still that is a sin which I think may be forgiven, if sin- 
 cerely repented of ; and it matters but little when or how a man 
 dies, so that he dies like a Christian and a man. I recommend 
 you to say your prayers, and then to get some rest, in order 
 that you may do both. There is no hope of your being pardoned ; 
 for Colonel Singleton has sent down the most positive orders to 
 take your life whenever we met you. No — no — nothing can 
 save you.” 
 
 “ Y ou say the truth,” cried Birch. “ It is now too late — I have 
 destroyed my only safeguard. But he will do my memory justice 
 it least.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 231 
 
 “ AVhat safeguard ?” asked the sergeant, with awakened curi- 
 osity. 
 
 “ T is nothing,” replied the pedler, recovering his natural man- 
 ner, and lowering his face to avoid the earnest looks of his com- 
 panion. 
 
 “And who is he?” 
 
 “No one,” added Harvey, anxious to say no more. 
 
 “Nothing, and no one, can avail but little now,” said the ser- 
 geant, rising to go ; “ lay yourself on the blanket of Mrs. Flanagan, 
 and get a little sleep ; I will call you betimes in the morning ; and, 
 from the bottom of my soul, I wish I could be of some service to 
 you, for I dislike greatly to see a man hung up like a dog.” 
 
 “Then you might save me from this ignominious death,” said 
 Birch, springing on his feet, and catcning the dragoon by the arm 
 — “And, oh ! what will I not give you in reward !” 
 
 “ In what manner ?” asked the sergeant, looking at him in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 “ See,” said the pedler, producing several guineas from his per- 
 son ; “ these are nothing to what I will give you, if you will assist 
 me to escape.” 
 
 “Were you the man whose picture is on the gold, I would 
 not listen to such a crime,” said the trooper, throwing the money 
 on the floor with contempt. “ Go — go — poor wretch, and make 
 your peace with God ; for it is he only that can be of service to 
 you now.” 
 
 The sergeant took up the lantern, and, with some indignation in 
 his manner, he left the pedler to sorrowful meditations on his 
 approaching fate. Birch sunk, in momentary despair, on the pallet 
 of Betty, while his guardian proceeded to give the necessary instruc- 
 tions to the sentinels for his safe-keeping. 
 
 Hollister concluded his injunctions to the man in the shed, by 
 saying, “ Your life will depend on his not escaping. Let none enter 
 or vpiit the room till morning.” 
 
232 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u But,” said the trooper, “ my orders are, to let the washerwoman 
 pass in and out, as she pleases.” 
 
 “Well, let her then; but be careful that this wily pedler does 
 not get out in the folds of her petticoats.” He then continued his 
 walk, giying similar orders to each of the sentinels near the spot. 
 
 For some time after the departure of the sergeant, silence pre- 
 vailed within the solitary prison of the pedler, until the dragoon at 
 his door heard his loud breathings, which soon rose into the regular 
 cadence of one in a deep sleep. The man continued walking his 
 post, musing on an indifference to life which could allow nature its 
 customary rest, even on the threshold of the grave. Harvey Birch 
 had, however, been a name too long held in detestation by every 
 man in the corps, to suffer any feelings of commiseration to mingle 
 with these reflections of the sentinel ; for, notwithstanding the con- 
 sideration and kindness manifested by the sergeant, there probably 
 was not another man of his rank in the whole party who would have 
 discovered equal benevolence to the prisoner, or who would not 
 have imitated the veteran in rejecting the bribe, although probably 
 from a less worthy motive. There was something of disappointed 
 vengeance in the feelings *of the man who watched the door of the 
 room on finding his prisoner enjoying a sleep of which he himself 
 was deprived, and at his exhibiting such obvious indifference to the 
 utmost penalty that military rigour could inflict on all his treason 
 to the cause of liberty and America. More than once he felt 
 prompted to disturb the repose of the pedler by taunts and revilings; 
 but the discipline he was under, and a secret sense of shame at the 
 brutality of the act, held him in subjection. 
 
 His meditations were, however, soon interrupted by the appearance 
 of the washerwoman, who came staggering through the door that 
 communicated with the kitchen, muttering execrations against the 
 servants of the officers, who, by their waggery, had disturbed her 
 slumbers before the fire. The sentinel understood enough of her 
 maledictions to comprehend the case ; but all his efforts to enter into 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 233 
 
 conversation with the enraged woman were useless, and he suffered 
 her to enter her room without explaining that it contained another 
 inmate. The noise of her huge frame falling on the bed was suc- 
 ceeded by a silence that was soon interrupted by the renewed respi- 
 ration of the pedler, and within a few minutes Harvey continued to 
 breathe aloud, as if no interruption had occurred. The relief arrived 
 at this moment. The sentinel, who felt nettled at the contempt of 
 the pedler, after communicating his orders, while he was retiring, 
 exclaimed to his successor — 
 
 “ You may keep yourself warm by dancing John; the pedler spy 
 has tuned his fiddle, you hear, and it will not be long before Betty 
 will strike up, in her turn.” 
 
 The joke was followed by a general laugh from the party, who 
 marched on in the performance of their duty. At this instant the 
 door of the prison was opened, and Betty reappeared, staggering back 
 again toward her former quarters. 
 
 “ Stop,” said the sentinel, catching her by her clothes ; “ are you 
 sure the spy is not in your pocket?” 
 
 “ Can’t you hear the rascal snoring in my room, you dirty black- 
 guard ?” sputtered Betty, her whole frame shaking with rage ; “ and 
 is it so yee would sarve a dacent famale, that a man must be put to 
 sleep in the room wid her, yee rapscallion ?” 
 
 ' “ Pooh ! do you mind a fellow who ’s to be hanged in the morn- 
 ing ? You see he sleeps already ; — to-morrow he T1 take a longer 
 nap.” 
 
 “ Hands off, yee villain !” cried the washerwoman, relinquishing 
 a small bottle that the trooper had succeeded in wresting from her. 
 “ But I'll go to Captain Jack, and know if it’s orders to put a 
 hang-gallows spy in my room; ay, even in my widowed bed, you 
 kief!” 
 
 “Silence, old Jezebel !” said the fellow with a laugh, taking the 
 bottle from his mouth to breathe, “or you will wake the genii; man 
 — would you disturb a man in his last sleep ?” 
 
2 34 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “I'll awake Captain Jack, you reprobate villain, and bring him 
 here to see me righted : he will punish yee all, for imposing on a 
 dacent widowed body, you marauder l” 
 
 With these words, which only extorted a laugh from the sentinel, 
 Betty staggered round the end of the building, and made the best of 
 her way towards the quarters of her favourite, Captain John Lawton, 
 in search of redress. Neither the officer nor the woman, however, 
 appeared during the night, and nothing further occurred to disturb 
 the repose of the pedler, who, to the astonishment of the different 
 sentinels, continued by his breathing to manifest how little the gal- 
 lows could affect his slumbers. 
 
CHAPTER XYHT. 
 
 u A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel ! — 
 
 O wise young judge, how I do honour thee !” 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 The Skinners followed Captain Lawton with alacrity, towards the 
 quarters occupied by the troop of that gentleman. The captain of 
 dragoons had on all occasions manifested so much zeal for the cause 
 in which he was engaged, was so regardless of personal danger when 
 opposed to the enemy, and his stature and stern countenance contri- 
 buted so much to render him terrific, that these qualities had, in 
 some measure, procured him a reputation distinct from the corps in 
 which he served. His intrepidity was mistaken for ferocity ; and 
 his hasty zeal, for the natural love of cruelty. On the other hand, 
 a few acts of clemency, or, more properly speaking, of discriminating 
 justice, had, with one portion of the community, acquired for Dun- 
 woodie the character of undue forbearance. It is seldom that either 
 popular condemnation or popular applause falls, exactly in the quan- 
 tities earned, where it is merited. 
 
 While in the presence of the Major, the leader of the gang had 
 felt himself under that restraint which vice must ever experience in 
 the company of acknowledged virtue ; but having left the house, he 
 at once conceived that he was under the protection of a congenial 
 spirit. There was a gravity in the manner of Lawton, that deceived 
 most of those who did not know him intimately ; and it was a com- 
 mon saying in his troop, “ that when the captain laughed, he was 
 
236 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 Bure to punish.” Drawing near his conductor therefore, the leader 
 commenced a confidential dialogue — 
 
 “’Tis always well for a man to know his friends from his ene- 
 mies,” said the half-licensed freebooter. 
 
 To this prefatory observation the captain made no other reply than 
 a sound, which the other interpreted into assent. 
 
 “ I suppose Major Dunwoodie has the good opinion of Washing- 
 ton ?” continued the Skinner, in a tone that rather expressed a doubt 
 than asked a question. 
 
 “ There are some who think so.” 
 
 “ Many of the friends of Congress in this county,” the man pro- 
 ceeded, “ wish the horse was led by some other officer ; for my part, 
 if I could only be covered by a troop now and then, I could do many 
 an important piece of service to the cause, to which this capture of 
 the pedler would be a trifle.” 
 
 “ Indeed ! such as what ?” 
 
 u For the matter of that, it could be made as profitable to the 
 officer as it would be to us who did it,” said the Skinner, with a look 
 of the most significant meaning. 
 
 u But how ?” asked Lawton, a little impatiently, and quickening 
 his step to get out of the hearing of the rest of the party. 
 
 “ Why, near the royal lines, even under the very guns of the 
 heights, might be good picking if we had a force to guard us from 
 De Lancey’s* men, and to cover our retreat from being cut off by 
 the way of King’s-bridge.” 
 
 * The partisan corps, called Cow-boys in the parlance of the country, was 
 commanded by a Colonel De Lancey. This gentleman, for such he was by 
 birth and education, rendered himself very odious to the Americans by his 
 fancied cruelty, though there is no evidence of his being guilty of any acts 
 unusual in this species of warfare. 
 
 Colonel De Lance)' - belonged to a family of the highest consequence in the 
 American colonies, his uncle having died in the. administration of the go- 
 vernment of that of New York. He should not be confounded with other 
 
THE SPY, 
 
 237 
 
 <( I thought the Refugees took all that game to themselves.” 
 
 <e They do a little at it ; hut they are obliged to be sparing among 
 their own people. I have been down twice, under an agreement 
 with them : the first time they acted with honour ; but the second 
 they came upon us and drove us off, and took the plunder to them- 
 selves.” 
 
 “ That was a very dishonourable act, indeed ; I wonder that an 
 honourable man will associate with such rascals.” 
 
 u It is necessary to have an understanding with some of them, or 
 we might be taken; but a man without honour is worse than a 
 brute. Do you think Major Dunwoodie is to be trusted ?” 
 u You mean on honourable principles?” 
 
 u Certainly ; you know Arnold was thought well of until the 
 royal major was taken.” 
 
 “ Why, I do not believe Dunwoodie would sell his command as 
 irnold wished to do; neither do I think him exactly trustworthy in 
 a delicate business like this of yours.” 
 
 “That’s just my notion,” rejoined the Skinner, with a self- 
 approving manner that showed how much he was satisfied with his 
 jwn estimate of character. 
 
 By this time they had arrived at a better sort of farm-house, the 
 very extensive out-buildings of which were in tolerable repair, for 
 the times. The barns were occupied by the men of the troop, while 
 the horses were arranged under the long sheds which protected the 
 yard from the cold north wind. The latter were quietly eating, with 
 saddles on their backs and bridles thrown on their necks, ready to 
 be bitted and mounted at the shortest warning. Lawton excused 
 himself fi »r a moment, and entered his quarters. He soon returned, 
 
 gentlemen of his name and family, many of whom served in the royal army. 
 His cousin, Colonel Oliver De Lancey, was, at the time of our tale, adjutant- 
 general of the British forces in America, having succeeded to the unfortunate 
 Andre. The Cow-boys were sometimes called Refugees , in consequence of 
 their having taken refuge under the protection of the crown. 
 
238 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 holding in his hand one of the common stable-lanterns, and led the 
 way towards a large orchard that surrounded the buildings on three 
 sides. The gang followed the trooper in silence, believing his 
 object to be facility of communicating further on this interesting 
 topic, without the danger of being overheard. 
 
 Approaching the Captain, the Skinner renewed the discourse, 
 with a view of establishing further confidence, and of giving his 
 companion a more favourable opinion of his own intellects. 
 
 “Do you think the colonies will finally get the better of the 
 king V ’ he enquired, with a little of the importance of a politician. 
 
 “ Get the better !” echoed the Captain, with impetuosity — then 
 checking himself, he continued, “ no doubt they will. If the French 
 will give us arms and money, we can drive out the royal troops in 
 six months.” 
 
 “Well, so I hope we shall soon; and then we shall have a free 
 government, and we, who fight for it, will get our reward.” 
 
 “ Oh !” cried Lawton, “ your claims will be indisputable ; while 
 all these vile Tories who live at home peaceably, to take care of their 
 farms, will be held in the contempt they merit. You have no farm, 
 I suppose ?” 
 
 “Not yet — but it will go hard if I do not find one before the 
 peace is made.” 
 
 “ Right ; study your own interests, and you study the interests 
 of your country; press the point of your own services, and rail at 
 the Tories, and I ’ll bet my spurs against a rusty nail that you get 
 to be a county clerk at least.” 
 
 ‘ Don’t you think Paulding’s* party were fools in not letting the 
 
 * The author must hare intended some allusion to an individual, which is 
 too local to be understood by the general reader. 
 
 Andre, as is well known, was arrested by three countrymen, who were on 
 the look-out for predatory parties of the enemy : the principal man of this 
 party was named Pa ulding. The disinterested manner in which they refused 
 the offers of their captive is matter of history. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 230 
 
 royal adjutant-general escape ?” said the man, thrown off his guard 
 by the freedom of the Captain’s manner. 
 
 “ Fools !” cried Lawton, with a bitter laugh ; “ ay, fools indeed ; 
 King Greorge would have paid them better, for he is richer. He 
 would have made them gentlemen for their lives. But, thank Grod ! 
 there is a pervading spirit in the people that seems miraculous. 
 Men who have nothing, act as if the wealth of the Indies depended 
 on their fidelity ; all are not villains like yourself, or we should have 
 been slaves to England years ago.” 
 
 “ How !” exclaimed the Skinner, starting back, and dropping his 
 musket to the level of the other’s breast ; “ am I betrayed, and are 
 you my enemy?” 
 
 “ Miscreant !” shouted Lawton, his sabre ringing in its steel scab- 
 bard, as he struck the musket of the fellow from his hands, “ offer 
 but again to point your gun at me, and I’ll cleave you to the 
 middle.” 
 
 “And you will not pay us, then, Captain Lawton ?” said the Skin- 
 ner, trembling in every joint, for just then he saw a party of mounted 
 dragoons silently encircling the whole party. 
 
 “ Oh ! pay you — yes, you shall have the full measure of your 
 reward. There is the money that Colonel Singleton sent down for 
 the captors of the spy/' throwing a bag of guineas with disdain at 
 the other’s feet. “ But ground your arms, you rascals, and see that 
 the money is truly told.” 
 
 The intimidated band did as they were ordered ; and while they 
 were eagerly employed in this pleasing avocation, a few of Lawton’s 
 men privately knocked the flints out of their muskets. 
 
 “Well,” cried the impatient captain, “is it right? — have you 
 the promised reward ?” 
 
 “There is just the money,” said the leader; “and we will now 
 go to our homes, with your permission.” 
 
 “Hold! so much to redeem our promise — now for justice; we 
 pay you for taking a spy, but we punish you for burning, robbing, 
 
240 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 and murdering. Seize them, my lads, and give each of them the 
 law of Moses — forty, save one.” 
 
 This command was given to no unwilling listeners ; and in the 
 twinkling of an eye the Skinners were stripped and fastened, by the 
 h alters of the party, to as many of the apple-trees as were necessary 
 to furnish one to each of the gang. Swords were quickly drawn, 
 and fifty branches were cut from the trees, like magic : from these 
 were selected a few of the most supple of the twigs, and a willing 
 dragoon was soon found to wield each of the weapons. Captain 
 Lawton gave the word, humanely cautioning his men not to exceed 
 the discipline prescribed by the Mosaic law, and the uproar of Babel 
 commenced in the orchard. The cries of the leader were easily to be 
 distinguished above those of his men ; a circumstance which might 
 be accounted for, by Captain Lawton's reminding his corrector that 
 he had to deal with an officer, and he should remember and pay him 
 unusual honour. The flagellation was executed with great neatness 
 and despatch, and it was distinguished by no irregularity, excepting 
 that none of the disciplinarians began to count until they had tried 
 their whips by a dozen or more blows, by the way, as they said them- 
 selves, of finding out the proper places to strike. As soon as this 
 summary operation was satisfactorily completed, Lawton directed his 
 men to leave the Skinners to replace their own clothes, and to mount 
 their horses ; for they were a party who had been detached for the 
 purpose of patrolling lower down in the county. 
 
 “ You see, my friend,” said the Captain to the leader of the Skin- 
 ners, after he had prepared himself to depart, “ I can cover you to 
 some purpose, when necessary. If we meet often, you will be co- 
 vered with scars, which, if not very honourable, will at least be me- 
 rited.” 
 
 The fellow made no reply. He was busy with his musket, and 
 hastening his comrades to march ; when, every thing being ready, 
 they proceeded sullenly towards some rocks at no great distance, 
 which were overhung by a deep wood. The moon was just rising, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 241 
 
 and the group of dragoons could easily be distinguished where they 
 had been left. Suddenly turning, the whole gang levelled their 
 pieces and drew the triggers. The action was noticed, and the snap- 
 ping of the locks was heard by the soldiers, who returned their futile 
 attempt with a laugh of derision, the captain crying aloud — 
 
 “Ah ! rascals, I knew you, and have taken away your flints/ ’ 
 “You should have taken away that in my pouch too/' shouted 
 the leader, firing his gun in the next instant. The bullet grazed the 
 ear of Lawton, who laughed as he shook his head, saying, “A miss 
 was as good as a mile." One of the dragoons had seen the prepara- 
 tions of the Skinner — who had been left alone by the rest of his 
 gang, as soon as they had made their abortive attempt at revenge — 
 and was in the act of plunging his spurs into his horse as the fellow 
 fired. The distance to the rocks was but small, yet the speed of the 
 horse compelled the leader to abandon both money and musket, to 
 effect his escape. The soldier returned with his prizes, and offered 
 them to the acceptance of his captain ; but Lawton rejected them, 
 telling the man to retain them himself, until the rascal appeared in 
 person to claim his property. It would have been a business of no 
 small difficulty for any tribunal then existing in the new states to 
 have enforced a restitution of the money ; for it was shortly after 
 most equitably distributed, by the hands of Sergeant Hollister, 
 among a troop of horse. The patrol departed, and the Captain 
 slowly returned to his quarters, with an intention of retiring to rest. 
 A figure moving rapidly among the trees, in the direction of the 
 wood whither the Skinners had retired, caught his eye, and, wheeling 
 on his heel, the cautious partisan approached it, and, to his astonish- 
 ment, saw the washerwoman at that hour of the night, and in such 
 a place. 
 
 “ What, Betty ! walking in your sleep, or dreaming while awake ?" 
 cried the trooper; “are you not afraid of meeting with the ghost of 
 ancient Jenny in this her favourite pasture?" 
 
 “ Ah, sure Captain Jack," returned the sutler in her native 
 
 11 
 
242 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 accent, and reeling in a manner that made it difficult for her to raise 
 her head, “ it ’& not Jenny, or her ghost, that I ’m saaking, but some 
 yarbs for the wounded. And it ’s the vartue of the rising moon, as 
 it jist touches them, that I want. They grow under yon rocks, and 
 T must hasten, or the charm will lose its power.” 
 
 Fool, you are fitter for your pallet than for wandering among 
 those rocks : a fall from one of them would break your bones ; 
 besides, the Skinners have fled to those heights, and should you fall 
 in with them, they would revenge on you a sound flogging they have 
 just received from me. Better return, old woman, and finish your 
 nap; we march in the morning.” 
 
 Betty disregarded his advice, and continued her devious route to 
 the hill-side. For an instant, as Lawton mentioned the Skinners, 
 she had paused, but immediately resuming her course, she was soon 
 out of sight, among the trees. 
 
 As the Captain entered his quarters, the sentinel at the door 
 enquired if he had met Mrs. Flanagan, and added that she had passed 
 tnere, filling the air with threats against her tormentors at the 
 “ Hotel,” and enquiring for the Captain in search of redress. Law- 
 ton heard the man in astonishment — appeared struck with a new 
 idea — walked several yards towards the orchard, and returned again; 
 for several minutes he paced rapidly to and fro before the door of the 
 house, and then hastily entering it, he threw himself on a bed in his 
 clothes, and was soon in a profound sleep. 
 
 In the mean time, the gang of marauders had successfully gained 
 the summit of the rocks, and, scattering in every direction, they 
 buried themselves in the depths of the wood. Finding, however, 
 there was no pursuit, which indeed would have been impracticable 
 for horse, the leader ventured to call his band together with a 
 whistle, and in a short time he succeeded in collecting his discom- 
 fited party, at a point where they had but little to apprehend from 
 any enemy. 
 
 u Well,” said one of the fellows, while a fire was lighting to protect 
 
the spy. 
 
 243 
 
 them against the air, which was becoming severely cold, “ there is 
 an end to our business in West-Chester. The Virginia horse will 
 soon make the county too hot to hold us.” 
 
 “ I T1 have his blood,” muttered the leader, “ if I die for it the 
 next instant.” 
 
 “ Oh, you are very valiant here, in the wood,” cried the other, 
 with a savage laugh ; “ why did you, who boast so much of your 
 aim, miss your man, at thirty yards ?” 
 
 “ ; Twas the horseman that disturbed me, or I would have ended 
 this Captain Lawton on the spot; besides, the cold had set me 
 a shivering, and I had no longer a steady hand.” 
 
 “ Say it was fear, and you will tell no lie,” said his comrade with 
 a sneer. “ For my part, I think I shall never be cold again ; my 
 back burns as if a thousand gridirons were laid on it.” 
 
 “And you would tamely submit to such usage, and kiss the rod 
 that beat you?” 
 
 “As for kissing the rod, it would be no easy matter. Mine was 
 broken into so small pieces, on my own shoulders, that it would be 
 difficult to find one big enough to kiss ; but I would rather submit 
 to lose half my skin, than to lose the whole of it, with my ears in 
 the bargain. And such will be our fates, if we tempt this mad Vir- 
 ginian again. God willing, I would at any time give him enough 
 of my hide to make a pair of jack-boots, to get out of his hands with 
 the remainder. If you had known when you were well off, you 
 would have stuck to Major Dunwoodie, who don’t know half so much 
 of our evil-doings.” 
 
 “ Silence, you talking fool !” shouted the enraged leader; “your 
 . prating is sufficient to drive a man mad ; is it not enough to be 
 robbed and beaten, but we must be tormented with your folly ? — 
 help to get out the provisions, if any is left in the wallet, and try 
 and stop your mouth with food.” 
 
 This injunction was obeyed, and the whole party, amidst sundry 
 groans and contortions, excited by the disordered state of their backs, 
 
244 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 made their arrangements for a scanty meal. A large fire of dry 
 wood was burning in the cleft of a rock, and at length they began 
 to recover from the confusion of their flight, and to collect their 
 scattered senses. Their hunger being appeased, and many of their 
 garments thrown aside for the better opportunity of dressing their 
 wounds, the gang began to plot measures of revenge. An hour was 
 spent in this manner, and various expedients were proposed ; but as 
 they all depended on personal prowess for their success, and were 
 attended by great danger, they were of course rejected. There was 
 no possibility of approaching the troops by surprise, their vigilance 
 being ever on the watch ; and the hope of meeting Captain Lawton, 
 away from his men, was equally forlorn, for the trooper was con- 
 stantly engaged in his duty, and his movements were so rapid, that 
 any opportunity of meeting with him, at all, must depend greatly 
 on accident. Besides, it was by no means certain, that such an in- 
 terview would result happily for themselves. The cunning of the 
 trooper was notorious; and rough and broken as was West-Chester, 
 the fearless partisan was known to take desperate leaps, and stone 
 walls were but slight impediments to the charges of the Southern 
 horse. Gradually, the conversation took another direction, until the 
 gang determined on a plan which should both revenge themselves, 
 and at the same time offer some additional stimulus to their exer- 
 tions. The whole business was accurately discussed, the time fixed, 
 and the manner adopted ; in short, nothing was wanting to the pre- 
 vious arrangement for this deed of villany, when they were aroused 
 by a voice calling aloud — 
 
 “ This way, Captain Jack — here are the rascals ating by a fire — 
 this way, and murder the tieves where they sit — quick, lave your 
 horses and shoot your pistols !” 
 
 This terrific summons was enough to disturb all the philosophy 
 of the gang. Springing on their feet, they rushed deeper into the 
 wood, and having already agreed upon a place of rendezvous pre- 
 viously to their intended expedition., they dispersed towards the four 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 245 
 
 quarters of the heavens. Certain sounds and different voices were 
 heard calling on each other, but as the marauders were well trained 
 to speed of foot, they were soon lost in the distance. 
 
 It was not long before Betty Flanagan emerged from the dark- 
 ness, and very coolly took possession of what the Skinners had left 
 behind them ; namely, food, and divers articles of dress. The wash- 
 erwoman deliberately seated herself, and made a meal with great 
 apparent satisfaction. For an hour, she sat with her head upon her 
 hand, in deep musing; then she gathered together such articles of 
 the clothes, as seemed to suit her fancy, and retired into the wood, 
 leaving the fire to throw its glimmering light on the adjacent rocks, 
 until its last brand died away, and the place was abandoned to soli- 
 tude and darkness. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 No longer then perplex the breast — 
 
 When thoughts torment, the first are best; 
 
 ‘Tis mad to go, ’tis death to stay! 
 
 Away, to Orra, haste away. 
 
 Lapland Love Song. 
 
 While his comrades were sleeping, in perfect forgetfulness of their 
 hardships and dangers, the slumbers of Dunwoodie were broken and 
 unquiet. After spending a night of restlessness, he arose, unre- 
 freslied, from the rude bed where he had thrown himself in his 
 clothes, and, without awaking any of the group around him, he wan- 
 dered into the open air in search of relief. The soft rays of the 
 moon were just passing away in the more distinct light of the morn- 
 ing ; the wind had fallen, and the rising mists gave the promise of 
 another of those autumnal days, which, in this unstable climate, 
 succeed a< tempest with the rapid transitions of magic. The hour 
 had not yet arrived when he intended moving from his present posi- 
 tion; and, willing to allow his warriors all the refreshment that 
 circumstances would permit, he strolled towards the scene of the 
 Skinners' punishment, musing upon the embarrassments of his situ- 
 ation, and uncertain how he should reconcile his sense of duty with 
 his love. Although Dunwoodie himself placed the most implicit 
 reliance on the Captain's purity of intention, he was by no means 
 assured that a board of officers would be equally credulous ; and, 
 independently of all feelings of private regard, he felt certain that 
 with the execution of Henry would be destroyed all hopes of a union 
 with his sister. He had despatched an officer, the preceding evening, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 247 
 
 to Colonel Singleton, who was in command of the advance posts, 
 reporting the capture of the British captain, and, after giving his 
 own opinion of his innocence, requesting orders as to the manner in 
 which he was to dispose of his prisoner. These orders might be 
 expected, every hour, and his uneasiness increased, in proportion as 
 the moment approached when his friend might be removed from his 
 protection. In this disturbed state of mind, the Major wandered 
 through the orchard, and was stopped in his walk by arriving at the 
 base of those rocks which had protected the Skinners in their flight 
 before he was conscious whither his steps had carried him. He was 
 about to turn, and retrace his path to his quarters, when he was 
 startled by a voice, bidding him — 
 
 “ Stand or die !” 
 
 Dunwoodie turned in amazement, and beheld the figure of a man 
 placed at a little distance above him on a shelving rock, with a 
 musket levelled at himself. The light was not yet sufficiently 
 powerful to reach the recesses of that gloomy spot, and a second look 
 was necessary before he discovered, to his astonishment, that the 
 pedler stood befere him. Comprehending, in an instant, the danger 
 of his situation, and disdaining to implore mercy or to retreat, had 
 the latter been possible, the youth cried firmly — 
 
 “ If I am to be murdered, fire ! I will never become your 
 prisoner.” 
 
 “ No, Major Dunwoodie,” said Birch, lowering his musket, “ it is 
 neither my intention to capture nor to slay.” 
 
 “ What then would you have, mysterious being ?” said Dun- 
 woodie, hardly able to persuade himself that the form he saw r was 
 not a creature of the imagination. 
 
 “Your good opinion,” answered the pedler, with emotion ; “ 1 
 would wish all good men to judge me with lenity.” 
 
 “ To you it must be indifferent what may be the judgment of 
 men ; for you seem to be beyond the reach of their sentence.” 
 u Cod spares the lives of his servants to his own time.” said the 
 
248 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 pedler, solemnly : “ a few hours ago I was your prisoner, and threat- 
 ened with the gallows; now you are mine; but, Major Dunwoodie, 
 you are free. There are men abroad who would treat you less 
 kindly. Of what service would that sword be to you against my 
 weapon and a steady hand ? Take the advice of one who has never 
 harmed you, and who never will. Do not trust yourself in the 
 skirts of any wood, unless in company and mounted.” 
 
 “ And have you comrades, who have assisted you to escape, and 
 who are less generous than yourself?” 
 
 “No — no, I am alone truly — none know me but my God and 
 Him .” 
 
 “ And who ?” asked the Major, with an interest he could not 
 control. 
 
 “ None,” continued the pedler, recovering his composure. “ But 
 such is not your case, Major Dunwoodie; you are young and happy; 
 there are those that are dear to you, and such are not far away — 
 danger is near them you love most — danger within and without ; 
 double your watchfulness — strengthen your patrols — and be silent. 
 With your opinion of me, should I tell you more, you would suspect 
 an ambush. But remember and guard them you love best.” 
 
 The pedler discharged the musket in the air, and threw it at the 
 feet of his astonished auditor. When surprise and the smoke al- 
 lowed Dunwoodie to look again on the rock where he had stood, the 
 spot was vacant. 
 
 The youth was aroused from the stupor, which had been created 
 by this strange scene, by the trampling of horses, and the sound of 
 the bugles. A patrol was drawn to the spot by the report of the 
 musket, and the alarm had been given to the corps. Without en- 
 tering into any explanation with his men, the Major returned quickly 
 to his quarters, where he found the whole squadron under arms, in 
 battle array, impatiently awaiting the appearance of their leader. 
 The officer whose duty it was to superintend such matters, had di- 
 rected a party to lower the sign of the Hotel Flanagan, and the post 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 241) 
 
 Was already arranged for the execution of the spy. On hearing from 
 the Major that the musket was discharged by himself, and was pro- 
 bably one of those dropped by the Skinners, (for by this time Dun- 
 woodie had learnt the punishment inflicted by Lawton, but chose to 
 conceal his own interview with Birch,) his officers suggested the 
 propriety of executing their prisoner before they inarched. Unable 
 to believe that all he had seen was not a dream, Dunwoodie, followed 
 by many of his officers, and preceded by Sergeant Hollister, went to 
 the place which was supposed to contain the pedler. 
 
 u Well, sir,” said the Major to the sentinel who guarded the door, 
 “ I trust you have your prisoner in safety.” 
 
 “ He is yet asleep,” replied the man, “ and he makes such a noise, 
 I could hardly hear the bugles sound the alarm.” 
 u Open the door, and bring him forth.” 
 
 The order was obeyed ; but, to the utter amazement of the honest 
 veteran who entered the prison, he found the room in no little dis- 
 order — the coat of the pedler where his body ought to have been, 
 and part of the wardrobe of Betty scattered in disorder on the floor. 
 The washerwoman herself occupied the pallet, in profound mental 
 oblivion, clad as when last seen, excepting a little black bonnet, 
 which she so constantly wore, that it was commonly thought she 
 made it perform the double duty of both day and night cap. The 
 noise of their entrance, and the exclamations of the party, awoke the 
 woman. 
 
 u Is it the breakfast that 's wanting ?” said Betty, rubbing her 
 eyes ; “ faith, yee look as if yee would ate myself — but patience a 
 little, darlings, and ye T1 see sich a fry as never was.” 
 
 u Fry !” echoed the Sergeant, forgetful of his religious philosophy, 
 and the presence of his officers; “we'll have you roasted, Jezebel! 
 — you've helped that damn’d pedler to escape.” 
 
 u Jezebel back agin in your teeth, and damn'd pidler too, Mister 
 Sargeant !” cried Betty, who was easily roused ; “ what have I to 
 do with pidlers, or escapes ? I might have been a pidlcr's lady, and 
 
 11 * 
 
250 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 worn my silks, if I ’d had Sawny M’ Twill, instead of tagging at the 
 heels of a parcel of dragooning rapscallions, who don’t know how to 
 trate a lone body with dacency.” 
 
 “ The fellow has left my Bible/’ said the veteran, taking the book 
 from the floor ; “ instead of spending his time in reading it to pre- 
 pare for his end, like a good Christian, he has been busy in labour- 
 ing to escape.” 
 
 “ And who would stay and be hanged like a*dog?” cried Betty, 
 beginning to comprehend the case ; “ ’t is n’t every one that ’s born 
 to meet with sich an ind — like yourself, Mister Hollister.” 
 
 “ Silence !” said Dunwoodie. “ This must be enquired into 
 closely, gentlemen; there is no outlet but the door, and there he 
 could not pass, unless the sentinel connived at his escape, or was 
 asleep on his post : — call up the guard.” 
 
 As these men were not paraded, curiosity had already drawn them 
 to the place, and they one and all, with the exception of him before 
 mentioned, denied that any person had passed out. The individual 
 in question acknowledged that Betty had gone by him, but pleaded 
 his orders in justification. 
 
 “You lie, you tief — you lie!” shouted Betty, who had impa- 
 tiently listened to his exculpation; “would yee slanderize a lone 
 woman, by saying she walks a camp at midnight ? — Here have I 
 been slaaping the long night, swaatly as the sucking babe.” 
 
 “Here, sir,” said the Sergeant, turning respectfully to Dun- 
 woodie, “ is something written in my Bible that was not in it before ; 
 for having no family to record, I would never suffer any scribbling 
 in the sacred book.” 
 
 One of the officers read aloud — “ These certify , that if suffered 
 to get free, it is by God’s help alone , to whose divine aid I humbly 
 riccommind myself. I’m forced to take the icoman’s clothes , 
 but in her pocket is a ricompinse . — Witness my hand — Harvey 
 Birch.” 
 
 “ What !” roared Betty, “ has the tief robbed a lone woman of 
 
THE BPY, 
 
 251 
 
 her all ? — hang him — catch him and hang him, Major; if there ’s 
 law or justice in the land.’ 7 
 
 “ Examine your pocket,” said one of the youngsters, who was 
 enjoying the scene, careless of the consequences. 
 
 “ Ah ! faith,” cried the washerwoman, producing a guinea, “ but 
 he is a jewel of a pidler ! Long life and a brisk trade to him, say I; 
 he is wilcome to the duds — and if he is ever hanged, many a biggei 
 rogue will go free.” 
 
 Dunwoodie turned to leave the apartment, and he saw Captain 
 Lawton standing with folded arms, contemplating the scene in pro- 
 found silence. His manner, so different from his usual impetuosity 
 and zeal, struck his commander as singular. Their eyes met, and 
 they walked together for a few minutes in close conversation, when 
 Dunwoodie returned, and dismissed the guard to their place of ren- 
 dezvous. Sergeant Hollister, however, continued along wfith Betty, 
 who, having found none of her vestments disturbed but such as the 
 guinea more than paid for, was in high good-humour. The washer- 
 woman had for a long time looked on the veteran with the eyes of 
 affection ; and she had determined within herself to remove certain 
 delicate objections which had long embarrassed her peculiar situation, 
 as respected the corps, by making the Sergeant the successor of her 
 late husband. For some time past th\< trooper had seemed to flatter 
 this preference ; and Betty, conceiving that her violence might have 
 mortified her suitor, was determined to make him all the amends in 
 her power. Besides, rough and uncouth as she was, the washer- 
 woman had still enough of the sex to know that the moments 
 of reconciliation were the moments of power. She therefore poured 
 out a glass of her morning beverage, and handed it to her companion 
 as a peace-offering. 
 
 u A few 7 warm words between frinds are a trifle, yee must 
 be knowing, Sargeant,” said the washerwoman; “it w^us Michael 
 Flanagan that I ever calumnated the most when I was loving him 
 the best.” 
 
252 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ Michael was a good soldier and a brave man,” said the trooper 
 finishing the glass ; “ our troop was covering the flank of his regi- 
 ment when he fell, and I rode over his body myself during the day * 
 poor fellow ! he lay on his back, and looked as composed as if he 
 had died a natural death after a year’s consumption.” 
 
 “ Oh ! Michael was a great consumer, and be sartain ; two such 
 as us make dreadful inroads in the stock, Sargeant. But yee’r a 
 sober discrate man, Mister Hollister, and would be a helpmate 
 indeed.” 
 
 “Why, Mrs. Flanagan, I've tarried to speak on a subject that 
 lies heavy at my heart, and I will now open my mind, if you 've lei- 
 sure to listen.” 
 
 “ Is it listen ?” cried the impatient woman ; “ and I ’d listen to 
 you, Sargeant, if the officers never ate another mouthful : but take 
 a second drop, dear, 'twill encourage you to spake freely.” 
 
 “ I am already bold enough in so good a cause,” returned the 
 veteran, rejecting her bounty. “ Betty, do you think it was really 
 the Pedler-Spy that I placed in this room, the last night ?” 
 
 “ And who should it be else, darling ?” 
 
 “ The evil one.” 
 
 “What, the divil?” 
 
 “ Ay, even Belzebub, disguised as the pedler ; and them fellows 
 tve thought to be Skinners were his imps !” 
 
 “ Well sure, Sargeant dear, yee'r but little out this time, any 
 way; for if the divil’s imps go at large in the county West-Chester, 
 sure it is the Skinners, themselves.” 
 
 “ Mrs. Flanagan, I mean in their incarnate spirits ; the evil one 
 knew that there was no one we would arrest sooner than the pedler 
 Birch, and he took on his appearance to gain admission to your 
 room.” 
 
 “ And what should the divil be wanting of me ?” cried 13etty. 
 tartly; “and isn't there divils enough in the corps already, withoui 
 one's coming from the bottomless pit to frighten a lone body?” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 253 
 
 “ ’T was in mercy to you, Betty, that he was permitted to come. 
 You see he vanished through the door in your form, which is a sym- 
 bol of your fate, unless you mend your life. Oh ! I noticed how he 
 trembled when I gave him the good book. Would any Christian, 
 think you, my dear Betty, write in a Bible in this way ; unless it 
 might be the matter of births and deaths, and such lawful chro- 
 nicles ?” 
 
 The washerwoman was pleased with the softness of her lover’s 
 manner, but dreadfully scandalised at his insinuation. She, how- 
 ever, preserved her temper, and with the quickness of her own 
 country’s people, rejoined — 
 
 “ And would the divil have paid for the clothes, think ye ? — - ay, 
 and overpaid.” 
 
 “ Doubtless the money is base,” said the Sergeant, a little stag- 
 gered at such an evidence of honesty in one of whom, as to generals, 
 he thought so meanly. “ He tempted me with his glittering coin, 
 but the Lord gave me strength to resist.” 
 
 “ The goold looks w T ell ; but I ’ll change it, any way, with Cap- 
 tain Jack, the day. He is niver a bit afeard of any divil of them 
 all !” 
 
 “ Betty, Betty,” said her companion, “do not speak so disreve- 
 rently of the evil spirit; he is ever at hand, and will owe you a 
 grudge, for your language.” 
 
 “ Pooh ! if he has any bowels at all, he won’t mind a filip or two 
 from a poor lone woman ; I ’m sure no other Christian would.” 
 
 “ But the dark one has no bowels, except to devour the children 
 of men,” said the Sergeant, looking around him in horror; “and 
 it’s best to make friends everywhere, for there is no telling what 
 may happen till it comes. But, Betty, no man could have got out 
 of this place, and passed all the sentinels without being known ; take 
 awful warning from the visit, therefore — ” 
 
 Here the dialogue was interrupted by a peremptory summons to 
 the sutler to prepare the morning’s repast, and they were obliged to 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 /; 
 
 ‘254 
 
 separate ; the woman secretly hoping that the interest the Sergeant 
 manifested was more earthly than he imagined, and the man, bent 
 on saving a soul from the fangs of the dark spirit that was prowling 
 through their camp in quest of victims. 
 
 During the breakfast several expresses arrived, one of which 
 brought intelligence of the actual force and destination of the ene- 
 my's expedition that was out on the Hudson ; and another, orders to 
 send Captain Wharton to the first post above, under the escort of a 
 body of dragoons. These last instructions, or rather commands, for 
 they admitted of no departure from their letter, completed the sum 
 of Dunwoodie’ s uneasiness. The despair and misery of Frances 
 were constantly before his eyes, and fifty times he was tempted to 
 throw himself on his horse and gallop to the Locusts ; but an uncon- 
 trollable feeling prevented. In obedience to the commands of his 
 superior, an officer, with a small party, was sent to the cottage to 
 conduct Henry Wharton to the place directed; and the gentleman 
 who was intrusted with the execution of the order was charged with 
 a letter from Dunwoodie to his friend, containing the most cheering 
 assurances of his safety, as well as the strongest pledges of his own 
 unceasing exertions in his favour. Lawton was left with part of his 
 own troop, in charge of the few wounded; and as soon as the men 
 were refreshed, the encampment broke up, the main body marching 
 towards the Hudson. Dunwoodie repeated his injunctions to Cap- 
 tain Lawton again and again — dwelt on every word that had fallen 
 from the pedler, and canvassed, in every possible manner that his 
 ingenuity could devise, the probable meaning of his mysterious 
 warnings, until no excuse remained for delaying his own departure. 
 Suddenly recollecting, however, that no directions had been given 
 for the disposal of Colonel Wellmere, instead of following the rear 
 of the column, the Major yielded to his desires, and turned down 
 the road which led to the Locusts. The horse of Dunwoodie was 
 fleet as the wind, and scarcely a minute seemed to have passed be- 
 fore he gained sight, from an eminence, of the lonely vale, and as 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 255 
 
 he was plunging into the bottom lands that formed its surface, he 
 caught a glimpse of Henry Wharton and his escort, at a distance, 
 defiling through a pass which led to the posts above. This sight 
 added to the speed of the anxious youth, who now turned the angle 
 of the hill that opened to the valley, and came suddenly on the ob- 
 ject of his search. Frances had followed the party which guarded 
 her brother at a distance ; and as they vanished from her sight, she 
 felt deserted by all that she most prized in this world. The unac- 
 countable absence of Dunwoodie, with the shock of parting from 
 Henry under such circumstances, had entirely subdued her fortitude, 
 and she had sunk on a stone by the roadside, sobbing as if her heart 
 would break. Dunwoodie sprang from his charger, threw the reins 
 over the neck of the animal, and in a moment he was by the side of 
 the weeping girl. 
 
 “ Frances — my own Frances !” he exclaimed, “ why this distress ? 
 — let not the situation of your brother create any alarm. As soon 
 as the duty I am now on is completed, I will hasten to the feet of 
 Washington, and beg his release. The Father of his Country will 
 never deny such a boon to one of his favourite pupils.” 
 
 “ Major Dunwoodie, for your interest in behalf of my poor bro- 
 ther, I thank you,” said the trembling girl, drying her eyes, and 
 rising with dignity; “but such language addressed to me, surely, is 
 improper.” 
 
 “ Improper ! are you not mine — by the consent of your father — 
 your aunt — your brother — nay, by your own consent, my sweet 
 Frances ?” 
 
 “ I wish not, Major Dunwoodie, to interfere with the prior claims 
 that any other lady may have to your affections,” said Frances, 
 struggling to speak with firmness. 
 
 , “ None other, I swear by Heaven, none other has any claim on 
 me !” cried Dunwoodie, with fervour ; “ you alone are mistress of 
 my inmost soul.” 
 
 “You have practised so much, and so successfully, Major Dun- 
 
250 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 woodie, that it is no wonder you excel in deceiving the credulity of 
 my sex,” returned Frances, attempting a smile, which the tremu- 
 lousness of her muscles smothered in its birth. 
 
 “ Am I a villain, Miss Wharton, that you receive me with such 
 language ? — when have I ever deceived you, Frances ? who has 
 practised in this manner on your purity of heart ?” 
 
 “ Why has not Major Dunwoodie honoured the dwelling of his 
 intended father with his presence lately ? Did he forget it contained 
 one friend on a bed of sickness, and another in deep distress ? Has 
 it escaped his memory that it held his intended wife ? Or is he 
 fearful of meeting more than one that can lay a claim to that title ? 
 Oh, Peyton — Peyton, how have I been deceived in you ! with the 
 foolish credulity of my youth, I thought you all that was brave, 
 noble, generous, and loyal.” 
 
 “ Frances, I see how you have deceived yourself,” cried Dun- 
 woodie, his face in a glow of fire ; “ you do me injustice ; I swear 
 by all that is most dear to me, that you do me injustice.” 
 
 “ Swear not, Major Dunwoodie,” interrupted Frances, her fine 
 countenance lighting with the lustre of womanly pride ; “ the time 
 is gone by for me to credit oaths.” 
 
 “ Miss Wharton, would you have me a coxcomb — make me con- 
 temptible in my own eyes, by boasting with the hope of raising my- 
 self in your estimation?” 
 
 “ Flatter not yourself that the task is so easy, sir,” returned 
 Frances, moving towards the cottage ; 66 we converse together in pri- 
 vate for the last time; — but — possibly — my father would welcome 
 my mother’s kinsman.” 
 
 “No, Miss Wharton, I cannot enter his dwelling now: I should 
 act in a manner unworthy of myself. You drive me from you, 
 Frances, in despair. I am going on desperate service, and may not 
 live to return. Should fortune prove severe, at least do my memory 
 justice ; remember that the last breathings of my soul will be for 
 vour happiness.” So saying, he had already placed his foot in the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 257 
 
 stirrup, but liis youthful mistress turning on him an eye that pierced 
 his soul, arrested the action. 
 
 “ Peyton — -Major Dunwoodie,” she said, “'can you ever forget 
 the sacred cause in which you are enlisted ? Duty both to your God 
 and to your country forbids you doing any thing rashly. The lattei 
 has need of your services; besides — ” but her voice became choked, 
 and she was unable to proceed. 
 
 u Besides what V ’ echoed the youth, springing to her side, and 
 offering to take her hand in his own. Frances having, however, 
 recovered herself, coldly repulsed him, and continued her walk 
 homeward. 
 
 u Is this our parting !” cried Dunwoodie, in agony ; “ am I a 
 wretch, that you treat me so cruelly ? You have never loved me, 
 and wish to conceal your own fickleness by accusations that you will 
 not explain.” 
 
 Frances stopped short in her walk, and turned on him a look of 
 so much purity and feeling, that, heart-stricken, Dunwoodie would 
 have knelt at her feet for pardon ; but motioning him for silence, 
 she once more spoke — 
 
 u Hear me, Major Dunwoodie, for the last time ; it is a bitter 
 knowledge when we first discover our own inferiority; but it is a 
 truth that I have lately learnt. Against you I bring no charges — 
 make no accusations; no, not willingly in my thoughts. Were my 
 claims to your heart just, I am not worthy of you. It is not 
 a feeble, timid girl, like me, that could make you happy. No, 
 Peyton, you are formed for great and glorious actions, deeds of 
 daring and renown, and should be united to a soul like your own ; 
 one that can rise above the weakness of her sex. I should be a 
 weight to drag you to the dust ; but with a different spirit in your 
 companion, you might soar to the very pinnacle of earthly glory. 
 To such a one, therefore, I resign you freely, if not cheerfully ; and 
 pray, oh, how fervently do I pray ! that with such a one you may 
 be happy.” 
 
258 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 u Lovely enthusiast !” cried Dunwoodie, u you know not your- 
 self, nor me. It is a woman, mild, gentle, and dependent as your- 
 self, that my very nature loves ; deceive not yourself with visionary 
 ideas of generosity, which will only make me miserable.” 
 
 “ Farewell, Major Dunwoodie,” said the agitated girl, pausing for 
 a moment to gasp for breath; u forget that you ever knew me — 
 remember the claims of your bleeding country; and be happy.” 
 
 “ Happy !” repeated the youthful soldier, bitterly, as he saw her 
 light form gliding through the gate of the lawn, and disappearing 
 behind its shrubbery ; “ yes, I am now happy, indeed !” 
 
 Throwing himself into the saddle, he plunged his spurs into his 
 horse, and soon overtook his squadron, which was marching slowly 
 over the hilly roads of the country, to gain the banks of the 
 Hudson. 
 
 But painful as were the feelings of Dunwoodie at this unex- 
 pected termination of the interview with his mistress, they were 
 but light compared with those which v r ere experienced by the 
 fond girl herself. Frances had, with the keen eye of jealous 
 love, easily detected the attachment of Isabella Singleton to Dun- 
 woodie. Delicate and retiring herself, it never could present itself 
 to her mind that this love had been unsought. Ardent in her 
 own affections, and artless in their exhibition, she had early caught 
 the eye of the young soldier; but it required all the manly 
 frankness of Dunwoodie to court her favour, and the most pointed 
 devotion to obtain his conquest. This done, his pow r er w^as durable, 
 entire, and engrossing. But the unusual occurrences of the few 
 preceding days, the altered mien of her lover during those events, 
 his unwonted indifference to herself, and chiefly the romantic 
 idolatry of Isabella, had aroused new sensations in her bosom. 
 With a dread of her lover’s integrity had been awakened the 
 never-failing concomitant of the purest affection, a distrust of her 
 own merits. In the moment of enthusiasm, the task of resigning 
 her lover to another, who might be more worthy of him, seemed 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 259 
 
 easy ; but it is in vain that the imagination attempts to deceive the 
 heart. Dunwoodie had no sooner disappeared, than our heroine 
 felt all the misery of her situation ; and if the youth found some 
 relief in the cares of his command, Frances was less fortunate in 
 the performance of a duty imposed on her by filial piety. The 
 removal of his son had nearly destroyed the little energy of Mr. 
 Wharton, who required all the tenderness of his remaining children 
 to convince him that he was able to perform the ordinary func- 
 tions of life 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Flatter and praise, commend, extol tneir graces, 
 
 Though ne’er so black, say they have angels’ faces 
 That man who hath a tongue I say is no man, 
 
 If with that tongue he cannot win a woman. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 In making the arrangements by which Captain Lawton had been 
 left, with Sergeant Hollister and twelve men, as a guard over the 
 wounded, and heavy baggage of the corps, Dunwoodie had consulted 
 not only the information which had been conveyed in the letter of 
 Colonel Singleton, but the bruises of his comrade’s body. In vain 
 Lawton declared himself fit for any duty that man could perform, 
 or plainly intimated that his men would never follow Tom Mason to 
 a charge with the alacrity and confidence with which they followed 
 himself; his commander was firm, and the reluctant Captain was 
 compelled to comply with as good a grace as he could assume. 
 Before parting, Dunwoodie repeated his caution to keep a watchful 
 eye on the inmates of the cottage; and especially enjoined him, if 
 any movements of a particularly suspicious nature were seen in 
 the neighbourhood, to break up from his present quarters, and to 
 move down with his party, and take possession of the domains of 
 Mr. Wharton. A vague suspicion of danger to the family had been 
 awakened in the breast of the Major, by the language of the pedler, 
 although he was unable to refer it to any particular source, or to 
 understand why it was to be apprehended. 
 
 For some time after the departure of the troops, the Captain was 
 walking before the door of the “ Hotel,” inwardly cursing his 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 261 
 
 fate, that condemned him to an inglorious idleness, at a moment 
 when a meeting with the enemy might be expected, and replying to 
 the occasional queries of Betty, who, from the interior of the 
 building, ever and anon demanded, in a high tone of voice, an 
 explanation of various passages in the pedler’s escape, which as 
 yet she could net comprehend. At this instant he was joined by 
 the surgeon, who had hitherto been engaged among his patients in 
 a distant building, and was profoundly ignorant of every thing that 
 had occurred, even to the departure of the troops. 
 
 “ Where are all the sentinels, John ?” he enquired, as he 
 gazed around with a look of curiosity, “and why are you here, 
 alone ?” 
 
 “Off — all off, with Dunwoodie, to the river. You and I are 
 left here to take care of a few sick men and some women/’ 
 
 “ I am glad, however,” said the surgeon, “ that Major Dun- 
 woodie had consideration enough not to move the wounded. Here, 
 you Mrs. Elizabeth Flanagan, hasten with some food, that I may 
 appease my appetite. I have a dead body to dissect, and am 
 in haste.” 
 
 “ And here, you Mister Doctor Archibald Sitgreaves,” echoed 
 Betty, showing her blooming countenance from a broken window of 
 the kitchen, “ you are ever a coming too late ; here is nothing to ate 
 but the skin of Jenny, and the body yee’r mintioning.” 
 
 “Woman!” said the surgeon, in anger, “do you take me for a 
 cannibal, that you address your filthy discourse to me, in this man- 
 ner? I bid you hasten with such food as may be proper to be 
 received into the stomach fasting.” 
 
 “And I’m sure it’s for a pop-gun that I should be taking jou 
 sooner than for a cannon-ball,” said Betty, winking at the Captain; 
 *• and I tell yee that it ’s fasting you must be, unless yee’l let me 
 cook yee a steak from the skin of Jenny The boys have ate me 
 up in tire ly.” 
 
 Lawton now interfered to preserve the peace, and assured the 
 
262 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 surgeon that he had already despatched the proper peisons in quest 
 of food for the party. A little mollified with this explanation, the 
 operator soon forgot his hunger, and declared his intention of pro- 
 ceeding to business at once. 
 
 “ And where is your subject ?” asked Lawton. 
 
 “ The pedler,” said the other, glancing a look at the sign-post. 
 “ I made Hollister put a stage so high that the neck would not he 
 dislocated by the fall, and I intend making as handsome a skeleton 
 of him, as there is in the States of North America; the fellow has 
 good points, and his bones are well knit. I will make a perfect 
 beauty of him. I have long been wanting something of this sort to 
 send as a present to my old aunt in Virginia, who was so kind to 
 me when a boy.” 
 
 “ The devil !” cried Lawton ; “ would you send the old woman a 
 dead man’s bones?” 
 
 “ Why not?” said the surgeon; “ what nobler object is there in 
 nature than the figure of a man — and the skeleton may be called his 
 elementary parts. But what has been done with the body ?” 
 
 “ Off too.” 
 
 “ Off ! and who has dared to interfere with my perquisites ?” 
 
 “ Sure, jist the divil,” said Betty; “and who’ll be taking yeer- 
 self away some of these times too, without asking yeer lave.” 
 
 “ Silence, you witch !” said Lawton, with difficulty suppressing a 
 laugh ; “ is this the manner in which to address an officer ?” 
 
 “ Who called me the filthy Elizabeth Flanagan ?” cried the wash- 
 erwoman, snapping her fingers contemptuously ; “ I can remimber a 
 frind for a year, and don’t forgit an inimy for a month.” 
 
 But the friendship, or enmity of Mrs. Flanagan was alike indif- 
 ferent to the surgeon, who could think of nothing but his loss ; and 
 Lawton was obliged to explain to his friend the apparent manner in 
 which it had happened. 
 
 “ Arnd a lucky escape it was for yee, my jewel of a doctor,” cried 
 Betty, as the Captain concluded. “ Sargeant Hollister, who saw 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 263 
 
 him face to face, as it might be, says it’s Beelzeboob, and no pidlcr, 
 unless it may be in a small matter of lies and thefts, and sich wick- 
 edness. Now a pretty figure yee would have been in cutting up 
 Beelzeboob, if the Major had hanged him. I don’t think it ’s very 
 asy he would have been under yeer knife.” 
 
 Thus doubly disappointed in his meal and his business, Sitgreaves 
 suddenly declared his intention of visiting the u Locusts,” and en- 
 quiring into the state of Captain Singleton. Lawton was ready for 
 the excursion; and mounting, they were soon on the road, though 
 the surgeon was obliged to submit to a few more jokes from the 
 washerwoman, before he could get out of hearing. For some time 
 the two rode in silence, when Lawton, perceiving that his compa- 
 nion’s temper was somewhat rutiled by his disappointments and 
 Betty’s attack, made an effort to restore the tranquillity of his 
 feelings. 
 
 “ That was a charming song, Archibald, that you commenced last 
 evening, when we were interrupted by the party that brought in the 
 pedler,” he said : “ the allusion to G alen was much to the purpose.” 
 u I knew you would like it, J ack, when you had got the fumes 
 of the wine out of your head. Poetry is a respectable art, though 
 it wants the precision of the exact sciences, and the natural benefi- 
 cence of the physical. Considered in reference to the wants of life, 
 I should define poetry as an emollient, rather than as a succulent.” 
 u And yet your ode was full of the meat of wit.” 
 u Ode is by no means a proper term for the composition ; I should 
 term it a 'classical ballad.” 
 
 “ Y ery probably,” said the trooper ; “ hearing only one verse, it 
 was difficult to class the composition.” 
 
 The surgeon involuntarily hemmed, and began to clear his throat, 
 although scarcely conscious himself to what the preparation tended. 
 But the Captain, roiling his dark eyes towards his companion, and 
 observing him to be sitting with great uneasiness on his horse, con- 
 tinued — 
 
264 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ The air is still, and the road solitary — why not give the re- 
 mainder ? It is never too late to repair a loss.” 
 
 “ My dear John, if I thought it would correct the errors you have 
 imbibed, from habit and indulgence, nothing could give me more 
 pleasure.” 
 
 “We are fast approaching some rocks on our left; the echo will 
 double my satisfaction.” 
 
 Thus encouraged, and somewhat impelled by the opinion that he 
 both sang and wrote with taste, the surgeon set about complying 
 with the request in sober earnest. Some little time was lost in 
 clearing his throat, and getting the proper pitch of his voice ; but 
 no sooner were these two points achieved, than Lawton had the 
 secret delight of hearing his friend commence — 
 
 “ 4 Hast thou ever — ’ ” 
 
 “ Hush !” interrupted the trooper ; “ what rustling noise is that 
 among the rocks?” 
 
 “It must have been the rushing of the melody. A powerful 
 voice is like the breathing of the winds. 
 
 * Hast thou ever — ’ ” 
 
 “ Listen !” said Lawton, stopping his horse. He had not done 
 speaking, when a stone fell at his feet, and rolled harmlessly across 
 the path. 
 
 “A friendly shot, that,” cried the trooper; “neither the weapon, 
 nor its force, implies much ill-will.” 
 
 “ Blows from stones seldom produce more than contusions,” said 
 the operator, bending his gaze in every direction in vain, in quest 
 of the hand from which the missile had been hurled ; “it must be 
 meteoric ; there is no living being in sight, except ourselves.” 
 
 “ It would be easy to hide a regiment behind those rooks,” re- 
 turned the trooper, dismounting, and taking the stone in his hand — 
 “ Oh ! here is the explanation along with the mystery.” So saying, 
 he tore a piece of paper that had been ingeniously fastened to the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 265 
 
 small fragment of rock which had thus singularly fallen before him; 
 and opening it, the Captain read the following words, written in no 
 very legible hand : — 
 
 “ Ji musket bullet will go farther than a stone , and things more 
 dangerous than yarbs for wounded men lie hid in the rocks of West- 
 chester. The horse may be good , but can he mount a precipice 
 u Thou sayest the truth, strange man,” said Lawton ; “ courage 
 and activity would avail but little against assassination and these 
 rugged passes.” Remounting his horse, he cried aloud — u Thanks, 
 unknown friend ; your caution will be remembered.” 
 
 A meagre hand was extended for an instant over a rock, in the 
 air, and afterwards nothing further was seen, or heard, in that quar- 
 ter, by the soldiers. 
 
 u Quite an extraordinary interruption,” said the astonished Sit- 
 greaves, u and a letter of a very mysterious meaning.” 
 
 “ Oh ! ’t is nothing but the wit of some bumpkin, who thinks to 
 frighten two of the Virginians by an artifice of this kind,” said the 
 trooper, placing the billet in his pocket ; “ but let me tell you, Mr 
 Archibald Sitgreaves, you were wanting to dissect, just now, a damn’d 
 honest fellow.” 
 
 “ It was the pedler — one of the most notorious spies in the ene- 
 my’s service ; and I must say that I think it would be an honour to 
 such a man to be devoted to the uses of science.” 
 
 “ He may be a spy — he must be one,” said Lawton, musing ) 
 u but he has a heart above enmity, and a soul that would honour a 
 soldier.” 
 
 The surgeon turned a vacant eye on his companion as he uttered 
 this soliloquy, while the penetrating looks of the trooper had already 
 discovered another pile of rocks, which, jutting forward, nearly ob- 
 structed the highway that wound directly around its base. 
 
 u What the steed cannot mount, the foot of man can overcome,” 
 exclaimed the wary partisan. Throwing himself again from his 
 saddle, and leaping a wall of stone, he began to ascend the hill at a 
 
 12 
 
266 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 pace which would soon have given him a bird's-eye view of the rocks 
 in question, together with all their crevices. This movement was 
 no sooner made, than Lawton caught a glimpse of the figure of a 
 man stealing rapidly from his approach, and disappearing on the 
 opposite side of the precipice. 
 
 “Spur, Sitgreaves — spur," shouted the trooper, dashing over 
 every impediment in pursuit, “ and murder the villain as he flies." 
 
 The former part of the request was promptly complied with, and 
 a few moments brought the surgeon in full view of a man armed 
 with a musket, who was crossing the road, and evidently seeking the 
 protection of the thick wood on its opposite side. 
 
 “ Stop, my friend — stop until Captain Lawton comes up, if you 
 please," cried the surgeon, observing him to flee with a rapidity that 
 baflled his horsemanship. But as if the invitation contained new 
 terrors, the footman redoubled his efforts, nor paused even to breathe, 
 until he had reached his goal, when, turning on his heel, he dis- 
 charged his musket towards the surgeon, and was out of sight in an 
 instant. To gain the highway, and throw himself into his saddle, 
 detained Lawton but a moment, and he rode to the side of his com- 
 rade just as the figure disappeared. 
 
 “Which way has he fled?" cried the trooper. 
 
 “John," said the surgeon, “am I not a non-combatant?" 
 
 “ Whither has the rascal fled ?" cried Lawton, impatiently. 
 
 “Where you cannot follow — into that wood. But I repeat, 
 John, am I not a non-combatant?" 
 
 The disappointed trooper, perceiving that his enemy had escaped 
 him, now turned his eyes, which were flashing with anger, upon his 
 comrade, and gradually his muscles lost their rigid compression, his 
 brow relaxed, and his look changed from its fierce expression, to the 
 covert laughter which so often distinguished his countenance. The 
 surgeon sat in dignified composure on his horse ; his thin body erect, 
 and his head elevated with the indignation of one conscious of hav- 
 ing been unjustly treated. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 267 
 
 “ Why did you suffer the villain to escape ?” demanded the Cap- 
 tain. “ Once within reach of my sabre, and I would have given 
 you a subject for the dissecting table.” 
 
 “’Twas impossible to prevent it,” said the surgeon, pointing to 
 the bars, before which he had stopped his horse. — “ The rogue 
 threw himself on the other side of this fence, and left me where 
 you see ; nor would the man in the least attend to my remonstrances, 
 or to an intimation that you wished to hold discourse with him.” 
 u He was truly a discourteous rascal ; but why did you not leap 
 the fence, and compel him to a halt ? — you see but three of the 
 bars are up, and Betty Flanagan could clear them on her cow.” 
 
 The surgeon, for the first time, withdrew his eyes from the place 
 where the fugitive had disappeared, and turned his look on his com- 
 rade. His head, however, was not permitted to lower itself in the 
 least, as he replied — 
 
 a I humbly conceive, Captain Lawton, that neither Mrs. Elizabeth 
 Flanagan, nor her cow, is an example to be emulated by Doctor 
 Archibald Sitgreaves : it would be but a sorry compliment to science, 
 to say, that a Doctor of Medicine had fractured both his legs, by 
 injudiciously striking them against a pair of bar-posts.” While 
 speaking, the surgeon raised the limbs in question to a nearly hori- 
 zontal position, an attitude which really appeared to bid defiance to 
 any thing like a passage for himself through the defile; but the 
 trooper, disregarding this ocular proof of the impossibility of the 
 movement, cried hastily — 
 
 u Here was nothing to stop you, man ; I could leap a platoon 
 through, boot and thigh, without pricking with a single spur. 
 Pshaw ! I have often charged upon the bayonets of infantry, over 
 greater difficulties than this.” 
 
 “ You will please to remember, Captain John Lawton, that I am 
 not the riding-master of the regiment — nor a drill sergeant — nor a 
 crazy cornet; no, sir — and I speak it with a due respect for the 
 commission of the continental Congress — nor an inconsiderate cap- 
 
268 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 tain, who regards his own life as little as that of his enemies. I am 
 only, sir, a poor humble man of letters, a mere Doctor of Medicine, 
 an unworthy graduate of Edinburgh, and a surgeon of dragoons; 
 nothing more, I do assure you, Captain John Lawton.” So saying, 
 he turned his horse’s head towards the cottage, and recommenced 
 „ his ride. 
 
 “Ay ! you speak the truth,” muttered the dragoon ; “ had I but 
 the meanest rider of my troop with me, I should have taken the 
 scoundrel, and given at least one victim to the laws. But, Archi- 
 bald, no man can ride well who straddles in this manner like the 
 Colossus of Rhodes. You should depend less on your stirrup, and 
 keep your seat by the power of the knee.” 
 
 “With proper deference to your experience, Captain Lawton,” 
 returned the surgeon, “I conceive myself to be no incompetent 
 judge of muscular action, whether in the knee, or any other part of 
 the human frame. And although but humbly educated, I am not 
 now to learn that the wider the base, the more firm is the super- 
 structure.” 
 
 “ Would you fill a highway, in this manner, with one pair of legs, 
 wheh half a dozen might pass together in comfort, stretching them 
 abroad like the scythes of the ancient chariot wheels ?” 
 
 The allusion to the practice of the ancients somewhat softened 
 the indignation of the surgeon, and he replied, with rather less 
 hauteur — 
 
 “ You should speak with reverence of the usages of those who have 
 gone before us, and who, however ignorant they were in matters of 
 science, and particularly that of surgery, yet furnished many brilliant 
 hints to our own improvements. Now, sir, I have no doubt that 
 Galen has operated on wounds occasioned by these very scythes that 
 you mention, although we can find no evidence of the fact in contem- 
 porary writers. Ah ! they must have given dreadful injuries, and, 
 I doubt not, caused great uneasiness to the medical gentlemen of 
 that day ” 
 
THE S P Y . 
 
 200 
 
 “ Occasionally a body must have been left in two pieces, to puzzle 
 the ingenuity of those gentry to unite. Yet, venerable and learned 
 as they were, I doubt not they did it.” 
 
 “ What ! unite two parts of the human body, that have been 
 severed by an edged instrument, to any of the purposes of animal 
 life?” 
 
 “ That have been rent asunder by a scythe, and are united to do 
 military duty,” said Lawton. 
 
 “ ? T is impossible — quite impossible,” cried the surgeon; “it is 
 in vain, Captain Lawton, that human ingenuity endeavours to baffle 
 the efforts of nature. Think, my dear sir, in this case you separate 
 all the arteries — injure all of the intestines — sever all of the 
 nerves and sinews, and, what is of more consequence, you — ” 
 
 “You have said enough, Dr. Sitgreaves, to convince a member 
 of a rival school. Nothing shall ever tempt me willingly to submit 
 to be divided in this irretrievable manner.” 
 
 “Certes, there is little pleasure in a wound which, from its 
 nature, is incurable.” 
 
 “I should think so,” said Lawton drily. 
 
 “ What do you think is the greatest pleasure in life ?” asked the 
 operator suddenly. 
 
 “That must greatly depend on taste.” 
 
 “Not at all,” cried the surgeon; “it is in witnessing, or rather 
 feeling, the ravages of disease repaired by the lights of science co- 
 operating with nature. I once broke my little finger intentionally, 
 in order that I might reduce the fracture and watch the cure : it was 
 only on a small scale, you know, dear John; still the thrilling sen- 
 sation excited by the knitting of the bone, aided by the contemplation 
 of the art of man thus acting in unison with nature, exceeded any 
 other enjoyment that I have ever experienced. Now, had it been 
 one of the more important members, such as the leg or arm, how 
 much greater must the pleasure have been !” 
 
 “ Or the neck,” said the trooper ; but their desultory discourse 
 
270 
 
 THE SP7. 
 
 / 
 
 was interrupted by their arrival at the cottage of Mr. Wharton. No 
 one appearing to usher them into an apartment, the Captain pro- 
 ceeded to the door of the parlour, where he knew visiters were com- 
 monly received. On opening it, he paused for a moment, in admi- 
 ration at the scene within. The person of Colonel Wellmere first 
 met his eye, bending towards the figure of the blushing Sarah, with 
 an earnestness of manner that prevented the noise of Lawton’s 
 entrance from being heard by either of the parties. Certain signifi- 
 cant signs, which were embraced at a glance by the prying gaze of 
 the trooper, at once made him a master of their secret; and he was 
 about to retire as silently as he had advanced, when his companion, 
 pushing himself through the passage, abruptly entered the room. 
 Advancing instantly to the chair of Wellmere, the surgeon instinct- 
 ively laid hold of his arm, and exclaimed — 
 
 u Bless me ! — a quick and irregular pulse — flushed cheek and 
 fiery eye — strong febrile symptoms, and such as must be attended 
 to.” While speaking, the doctor, who was much addicted to 
 practising in a summary way, — a weakness of most medical men 
 in military practice, — had already produced his lancet, and was 
 making certain other indications of his intentions to proceed at once 
 to business. But Colonel Wellmere, recovering from the confusion 
 of the surprise, arose from his seat haughtily, and said — 
 
 u Sir, it is the warmth of the room that lends me the colour, and 
 I am already too much indebted to your skill to give you any farther 
 trouble ; Miss Wharton knows that I am quite well, and I do assure 
 you that I never felt better or happier in my life.” 
 
 There was a peculiar emphasis on the latter part of this speech, 
 that, however it might gratify the feelings of Sarah, brought the 
 colour to her cheeks again ; and Sitgreaves, as his eye followed the 
 direction of those of his patient, did not fail to observe it. 
 
 u Your arm, if you please, madam,” said the surgeon, advancing 
 with a bow ; u anxiety and watching have done their work on your 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 271 
 
 delicate frame, and there are symptoms about you that must not be 
 neglected.” 
 
 “ Excuse me, sir,” said Sarah, recovering herself with womanly 
 pride ; u the heat is oppressive, and I will retire and acquaint Miss 
 Peyton with your presence.” 
 
 There was but little difficulty in practising on the abstracted sim- 
 plicity of the surgeon \ but it was necessary for Sarah to raise her 
 eyes to return the salutation of Lawton, as he bowed his head nearly 
 to a level with the hand that held open the door for her passage. 
 One look was sufficient ; she was able to control her steps sufficiently 
 to retire with dignity ; but no sooner was she relieved from the pre- 
 sence of all observers, than she fell into a chair, and abandoned her- 
 self to a feeling of mingled shame and pleasure. 
 
 A little nettled at the contumacious deportment of the British 
 colonel, Sitgreaves, after once more tendering services that were 
 again rejected, withdrew to the chamber of young Singleton, whither 
 Lawton had already preceded him. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Oh ! Henry, when thou deign’st to sue, 
 
 Can I thy suit withstand ? 
 
 When thou, lov’d youth, hast won my heart, 
 
 Can I refuse my hand ? 
 
 Hermit of Warkworth. 
 
 The graduate of Edinburgh found his patient rapidly improving in 
 health, and entirely free from fever. His sister, with a cheek that 
 was, if possible, paler than on her arrival, watched around his couch 
 with tender care ; and the ladies of the cottage had not, in the midst 
 of their sorrows and varied emotions, forgotten to discharge the 
 duties of hospitality. Frances felt herself impelled towards their 
 disconsolate guest, with an interest for which she could not account, 
 and with a force that she could not control. She had unconsciously 
 connected the fates of Dunwoodie and Isabella in her imagination, 
 and she felt, with the romantic ardour of a generous mind, that she 
 was serving her former lover most, by exhibiting kindness to her he 
 loved best. Isabella received her attentions with gratitude, but 
 neither of them indulged in any allusions to the latent source of 
 their uneasiness. The observation of Miss Peyton seldom pene- 
 trated beyond things that were visible, and to her the situation of 
 Henry Wharton seemed to furnish an awful excuse for the fading 
 cheeks and tearful eyes of her niece. If Sarah manifested less of 
 care than her sister, still the unpractised aunt was not at a loss to 
 comprehend the reason. Love is a holy feeling with the virtuous of 
 the female sex, and it hallows all that comes within its influence. 
 Although Miss Peyton mourned with sincerity over the danger 
 
T II E S 1 J Y. 
 
 273 
 
 which threatened her nephew, she well knew that an active cam- 
 paign was not favourable to love, and the moments that were thus 
 accidentally granted were not to be thrown away. 
 
 Several days now passed without any interruption of the usual 
 avocations of the inhabitants of the cottage, or the party at the Four 
 Corners. The former were supporting their fortitude with the cer- 
 tainty of Henry’s innocence, and a strong reliance on Funwoodie’s 
 exertions in his behalf, and the latter waiting with impatience the 
 intelligence, that was hourly expected, of a conflict, and their orders 
 to depart. Captain Lawton, however, waited for both these events 
 in vain. Letters from the major announced that the enemy, finding 
 that the party which was to co-operate with them had been defeated, 
 and was withdrawn, had retired also behind the works of Fort Wash- 
 ington, where they continued inactive, threatening constantly to strike 
 a blow in revenge for their disgrace. The trooper was enjoined to 
 vigilance, and the letter concluded with a compliment to his honour, 
 zeal, and undoubted bravery. 
 
 “ Extremely flattering, Major Dunwoodie,” muttered the dragoon, 
 as he threw down this epistle, and stalked across the floor to quiet 
 his impatience. u A proper guard have you selected for this ser- 
 vice : let me see — - 1 have to watch over the interests of a crazy, 
 irresolute old man, who does not know whether he belongs to us or 
 to the enemy ; four women, three of whom are well enough in them- 
 selves, but who are not immensely flattered by my society ; and the 
 fourth, who, good as she is, is on the wrong side of forty ; some two 
 or three blacks; a talkative housekeeper, that does nothing but chat- 
 ter about gold and despisables, and signs and omens; and poor 
 George Singleton. Well, a comrade in suffering has a claim on a 
 man, — so I’ll make the best of it.” 
 
 As he concluded this soliloquy, the trooper took a seat and began 
 to whistle, to convince himself how little he cared about the matter, 
 when, by throwing his booted leg carelessly round, he upset the 
 canteen that held his whole stock of brandy. The accident was soon 
 
 12 * 
 
274 
 
 T HE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 repaired, but in replacing tbe wooden vessel, he observed a billet 
 lying on the bench, on which the liquor had been placed. It was 
 soon opened, and he read — “ The moon will not rise till after mid- 
 night — a fit time for deeds of darkness There was no mistaking 
 the hand ; it was clearly the same that had given him the timely 
 warning against assassination, and the trooper continued, for a long 
 time, musing on the nature of these two notices, and the motives 
 that could induce the pedler to favour an implacable enemy in the 
 manner that he had latterly done. That he was a spy of the enemy, 
 Lawton knew; for the fact of his conveying intelligence to the 
 English commander-in-chief, of a party of Americans that were ex- 
 posed to the enemy, was proved most clearly against him on the 
 trial for his life. The consequences of his treason had been avoided, 
 it is true, by a lucky order from Washington, which withdrew the 
 regiment a short time before the British appeared to cut it off, but 
 still the crime was the same ; perhaps, thought the partisan, he 
 wishes to make a friend of me against the event of another capture ; 
 but, at all events, he spared my life on one occasion, and saved it on 
 another. I will endeavour to be as generous as himself, and pray 
 that my duty may never interfere with my feelings. 
 
 Whether the danger, intimated in the present note, threatened 
 the cottage or his own party, the Captain was uncertain, but he in- 
 clined to the latter opinivm, and determined to beware how he rode 
 abroad in the dark. To a man in a peaceable country, and in times 
 of quiet and order, the indifference with which the partisan regarded 
 the impending danger would be inconceivable. His reflections on 
 the subject were more directed towards devising means to entrap his 
 enemies, than to escape their machinations. But the arrival of the 
 surgeon, who had been to pay Jus daily visit to the Locusts, inter- 
 rupted his meditations. Sitgreaves brought an invitation from the 
 mistress of the mansion to Captain Lawton, desiring that the cottage 
 might be honoured with his presence at an early hour on that 
 ,vening. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 275 
 
 “Ha!” cried the trooper; “then they have received a letter, 
 also.” 
 
 “ I think nothing more probable,” said the surgeon ; “ there is a 
 chaplain at the cottage from the royal army, who has come out to 
 exchange the British wounded, and who has an order from Colonel 
 Singleton for their delivery. But a more mad project than to re- 
 move them now was never adopted.” 
 
 “ A priest, say you ! — is he a hard drinker — a real camp-idler 
 — a fellow to breed a famine in a regiment ? or does he seem a man 
 who is in earnest in his trade ?” 
 
 “ A very respectable and orderly gentleman, and not unreasonably 
 given to intemperance, judging from the outward symptoms,” re- 
 turned the surgeon ; “ and a man who really says grace in a very 
 regular and appropriate manner.” 
 
 “And does he stay the night?” 
 
 “ Certainly, he waits for his cartel ; but hasten, J ohn, we have but 
 little time to waste. I will just step up and bleed two or three of 
 the Englishmen who are to move in the morning, in order to antici- 
 pate inflammation, and be with you immediately.” 
 
 The gala suit of Captain Lawton was easily adjusted to his huge 
 frame, and his companion being ready, they once more took their 
 route towards the cottage. Roanoke had been as much benefited by 
 a few days’ rest as his master; and Lawton ardently wished, as he 
 curbed his gallant steed, on passing the well-remembered rocks, that 
 his treacherous enemy stood before him, mounted and armed as 
 himself. But no enemy, nor any disturbance whatever, interfered 
 with their progress, and they reached the Locusts just as the sun 
 was throwing his setting rays on the valley, and tinging the tops of 
 the leafless trees with gold. It never required more than a single 
 look to acquaint the trooper with the particulars of every scene that 
 was not uncommonly veiled, and the first survey that he took on 
 entering the house, told him more than the observations of a day 
 had put into the possession of Dr. Sitgreaves. Miss Peyton accosted 
 
270 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 him with a smiling welcome, that exceeded the bounds of oidinary 
 courtesy, and which evidently flowed more from feelings that were 
 connected with the heart, than from manner. Frances glided about, 
 tearful and agitated, while Mr. Wharton stood ready to receive 
 them, decked in a suit of velvet that would have been conspicuous 
 in the gayest drawing-room. Colonel Wellmere was in the uniform 
 of an officer of the household troops of his prince, and Isabella Sin- 
 gleton sat in the parlour, clad in the habiliments of joy, but with a 
 countenance that belied her appearance ; while her brother by her 
 side, looked, with a cheek of flitting colour, and an eye of intense 
 interest, like any thing but an invalid. As it was the third day 
 that he had left his room, Dr. Sitgreaves, who began to stare about 
 him in stupid wonder, forgot to reprove his patient for imprudence. 
 Into this scene Captain Lawton moved with all the composure and 
 gravity of a man whose nerves were not easily discomposed by novel- 
 ties. His compliments were received as graciously as they were 
 offered, and after exchanging a few words with the different indi- 
 viduals present, he approached the surgeon, who had withdrawn, in 
 a kind of confused astonishment, to rally his senses. 
 
 “John,” whispered the surgeon, with awakened curiosity, “what 
 means this festival?” 
 
 “ That your wig and my black head would look the better for a 
 little of Betty Flanagan’s flour ; but it is too late now, and we must 
 fight the battle armed as you see.” 
 
 “ Observe, here comes the army chaplain in his full robes, as a 
 Doctor Divinitatis; what can it mean?” 
 
 “An exchange,” said the trooper; “the wounded of Cupid are 
 to meet and settle their accounts with the god, in the way of plight- 
 ing faith to suffer from his archery no more.” 
 
 The surgeon laid a finger on the side of his ncse, and he began to 
 comprehend the case. 
 
 “ Is it not a crying shame, that a sunshine-hero, and an enemy, 
 should thus be suffered to steal away one of the fairest plants that 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 277 
 
 grows in our soil,” muttered Lawton ; u a flower fit to be placed in 
 the bosom of any man.” 
 
 “If he be not more accommodating as a husband than as a 
 patient, John, I fear me that the lady will lead a troubled life.” 
 
 u Let her,” said the trooper, indignantly ; “ she has chosen from 
 her country’s enemies, and may she meet with a foreigner’s virtues 
 in her choice.” 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by Miss Peyton, who, 
 advancing, acquainted them that they had been invited to grace the 
 nuptials of her eldest niece and Colonel Wellmere. The gentlemen 
 bowed ; and the good aunt, with an inherent love of propriety, went 
 on to add, that the acquaintance was of an old date, and the attach- 
 ment by no means a sudden thing. To this Lawton merely bowed 
 still more ceremoniously; but the surgeon, who loved to hold con- 
 verse with the virgin, replied — 
 
 “ That the human mind was differently constituted in different 
 individuals. In some, impressions are vivid and transitory; in 
 others, more deep and lasting : — indeed, there are some philoso- 
 phers who pretend to trace a connection between the physical and 
 mental powers of the animal ; but, for my part, madam, I believe 
 that the one is much influenced by habit and association, and the 
 other subject altogether to the peculiar laws of matter.” 
 
 Miss Peyton, in her turn, bowed her silent assent to this remark, 
 and retired with dignity, to usher the intended bride into the pre- 
 sence of the company. The hour had arrived when American cus- 
 tom has decreed that the vows of wedlock must be exchanged ; and 
 Sarah, blushing with a variety of emotions, followed her aunt to the 
 drawing-room. Wellmere sprang to receive the hand that, with an 
 averted face, she extended towards him, and, for the first time, the 
 English Colonel appeared fully conscious of the important part that 
 he was to act in the approaching ceremony. Hitherto his air had 
 been abstracted, and his manner uneasy; but e’very thing, excepting 
 ;he certainty of his bliss, seemed to vanish at the blaze of loveliness 
 
278 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 that now hurst on his sight. All arose from their seats, and the 
 reverend gentleman had already opened the sacred volume, when 
 the absence of Frances was noticed: Miss Peyton withdrew in 
 search of her youngest niece, whom she found in her own apartment, 
 and in tears. 
 
 “ Come, my love, the ceremony waits but for us,” said the aunt, 
 affectionate^ entwining her arm in that of her niece ; “ endeavour 
 to compose yourself, that proper honour may be done to the choice 
 of your sister.” 
 
 “ Is he — can he be worthy of her ?” 
 
 “Can he be otherwise?” returned Miss Peyton; “is he not a 
 gentleman ? — a gallant soldier, though an unfortunate one ? and 
 certainly, my love, one who appears every way qualified to make any 
 woman happy.” 
 
 Frances had given vent to her feelings, and, with an effort, she 
 collected sufficient resolution to venture to join the party below. 
 But to relieve the embarrassment of this delay, the clergyman had 
 put sundry questions to the bridegroom ; one of which was by no 
 means answered to his satisfaction. Wellmere was compelled to 
 acknowledge that he was unprovided with a ring ; and to perform 
 the marriage ceremony without one, the divine pronounced to be 
 canonically impossible. His appeal to Mr. Wharton, for the pro- 
 priety of this decision, was answered affirmatively, as it would have 
 been negatively, had the question been put in a manner to lead to 
 such a result. The owner of the Locusts had lost the little energy 
 he possessed, by the blow recently received through his son, and his 
 assent to the objection of the clergyman was as easily obtained as 
 had been his consent to the premature proposals of Wellmere. In 
 this stage of the dilemma, Miss Peyton and Frances appeared. The 
 surgeon of dragoons approached the former, and as he handed her 
 to a chair, observed — 
 
 “ It appears, madam, that untoward circumstances have prevented 
 Colonel Wellmere from providing all of the decorations that custom, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 279 
 
 antiquity, and the canons of the church have prescribed as indispen- 
 sable to enter into the honourable state of wedlock.” 
 
 Miss Peyton glanced her quiet eye at the uneasy bridegroom, and 
 perceiving him to be adorned with what she thought sufficient splen- 
 dour, allowing for the time and the suddenness of the occasion, she 
 turned her look on the speaker, as if to demand an explanation. 
 
 The surgeon understood her wishes, and proceeded at once to 
 gratify them. 
 
 u There is,” he observed, “ an opinion prevalent, that the heart 
 lies on the left side of the body, and that the connection between 
 the members of that side and what may be called the seat of life, is 
 more intimate than that which exists with their opposites. But this 
 is an error that grows out of an ignorance of the organic arrange - 
 ment of the human frame. In obedience to this opinion, the fourth 
 finger of the left hand is thought to contain a virtue that belongs to 
 no other branch of that digitated member ; and it is ordinarily en- 
 circled, during the solemnization of wedlock, with a cincture or ring, 
 as if to chain that affection to the marriage state, which is best se- 
 cured by the graces of the female character.” While speaking, 
 the operator laid his hand expressively on his heart, and he bowed 
 nearly to the floor when he had concluded. 
 
 u I know not, sir, that I rightly understand your meaning,” said 
 Miss Peyton, whose want of comprehension was sufficiently ex- 
 cusable. 
 
 *‘A ring, madam — a ring is wanting for the ceremony.” 
 
 The instant that the surgeon spoke explicitly, the awkwardness of 
 the situation was understood. She glanced her eyes at her nieces, 
 and in the younger she read a secret exultation that somewhat dis- 
 pleased her ; but the countenance of Sarah was suffused with a shame 
 that the considerate aunt well understood. Not for the world would 
 the violate any of the observances of female etiquette. It sug- 
 gested itself to all the females, at the same moment, that the wed- 
 ding-ring of the late mother and sister was reposing peacefully amid 
 
280 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 the rest of her jewellery, in a secret receptacle, that had been pro- 
 vided at an early day, to secure the valuables against the predatory 
 inroads of the marauders who roamed through the county. Into 
 this hidden vault, the plate, and whatever was most prized, made a 
 nightly retreat, and there the ring in question had long lain, forgot- 
 ten until at this moment. But it was the business of the bride- 
 groom, from time immemorial, to furnish this indispensable to wed- 
 lock, and on no account would Miss Peyton do any thing that tran- 
 scended the usual reserve of the sex on this solemn occasion ; cer- 
 tainly not until sufficient expiation for the offence had been made, 
 by a due portion of trouble and disquiet. This material fact, there- 
 fore, was not disclosed by either; the aunt consulting female pro- 
 priety; the bride yielding to shame; and Frances rejoicing that an 
 embarrassment, proceeding from almost any cause, should delay her 
 sister’s vow. It was reserved for Dr. Sitgreaves to interrupt the 
 awkward silence. 
 
 u If, madam, a plain ring, that once belonged to a sister of my 
 own — ” He paused, and hemmed - — “ If, madam, a ring of that 
 description might be admitted to this honour, I have one that could 
 be easily produced from my quarters at the Corners, and I doubt not 
 it would fit the finger for which it is desired. There is a strong 
 resemblance between — hem — between my late sister and Miss 
 Wharton, in stature and anatomical figure ; and, in all eligible sub- 
 jects, the proportions are apt to be observed throughout the whole 
 animal economy.” 
 
 A glance of Miss Peyton’s eye recalled Colonel Wellmere to a 
 sense of his duty, and springing from his chair, he assured the sur- 
 geon, that in no way could he confer a greater obligation on himself 
 than by sending for that very ring. The operator bowed a little 
 haughtily, and withdrew to fulfil his promise, by despatching a mes- 
 senger on the errand. The aunt suffered him to retire ; but unwill- 
 ngness to admit a stranger into the privacy of their domestic arrange- 
 ments, induced her to follow and tender the services of Caesar, in- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 281 
 
 stead of those of Sitgreaves’s man, who had volunteered for this 
 duty. Katy Haynes was accordingly directed to summon the black 
 to the vacant parlour, and thither Miss Peyton and the surgeon 
 repaired, to give their several instructions. 
 
 The consent to this sudden union of Sarah and Wellmere, and 
 especially at a time when the life of a member of the family was in 
 such imminent jeopardy, was given from a conviction, that the un- 
 settled state of the country would probably prevent another oppor- 
 tunity of the lovers meeting, and a secret dread on the part of Mr. 
 Wharton, that the death of his son might, by hastening his own, 
 leave his remaining children without a protector. But notwithstand- 
 ing Miss Peyton had complied with her brother’s wish to profit by 
 the accidental visit of a divine, she had not thought it necessary to 
 blazon the intended nuptials of her niece to the neighbourhood, had 
 even time been allowed : she thought, therefore, that she was 
 now communicating a profound secret to the negro and her house- 
 keeper. 
 
 u Caesar,” she commenced, with a smile, “ you are now to learn 
 that your young mistress, Miss Sarah, is to be united to Colonel 
 Wellmere this evening.” 
 
 u I tink I see him afore,” said Caesar, chuckling ; u old black man 
 can tell when a young lady make up he mind.” 
 
 u Beally, Caesar, I find I have never given you credit for half the 
 observation that you deserve; but as you already know on what 
 emergency your services are required, listen to the directions of this 
 gentleman, and take care to observe them strictly.” 
 
 The black turned in quiet submission to the surgeon, who com- 
 menced as follows : — 
 
 “ Caesar, your mistress has already acquainted you with the im- 
 portant event about to be solemnised within this habitation ; but a 
 cincture or ring is wanting to encircle the finger of the bride ; a 
 custom derived from the ancients, and which has been continued in 
 the marriage forms of several branches of the Christian church, and 
 
THE SFY, 
 
 Z82 
 
 which is even, by a species of typical wedlock, used in the installa- 
 tion of prelates, as you doubtless understand.” 
 
 “ Pr’aps massa doctor will say him over ag’in,” interrupted the 
 old negro, whose memory began to fail him, just as the other made 
 so confident an allusion to his powers of comprehension ; “ I tink I 
 get him by heart dis time.” 
 
 “It is impossible to gather honey from a rock, Caesar, and there- 
 fore I will abridge the little I have to say. Ride to the Four 
 Corners, and present this note to Sergeant Hollister, or to Mrs. 
 Elizabeth Flanagan, either of whom will furnish the necessary 
 pledge of connubial affection; and return forthwith.” 
 
 The letter which the surgeon put into the hands of his messenger, 
 as he ceased, was conceived in the following terms : — 
 
 “If the fever has left Kinder, give him nourishment. Take 
 three ounces more of blood from Watson. Have a search made 
 that the woman Flanagan has left none of her jugs of alcohol in the 
 hospital. Renew the dressings of Johnson, and dismiss Smith to 
 duty. Send the ring, which is pendent from the chain of the 
 watch, that I left with you to time the doses, by the bearer. 
 
 Archibald Sitgreayes, M. D. 
 
 “ Surgeon of Dragoons.” 
 
 “ Caesar,” said Katy, when she was alone with the black, “ put 
 the ring, when you get it, in your left pocket, for that is nearest your 
 heart ; and by no means endeavour to try it on your finger, for it is 
 unlucky.” 
 
 “ Try um on he finger ?” interrupted the negro, stretching forth 
 his bony knuckles; “tink a Miss Sally’s ring go on old Caesar finger ?” 
 
 “ ’T is not consequential whether it goes on or not,” said the 
 housekeeper ; “ but it is an evil omen to place a marriage-ring on 
 the finger of another after wedlock, and of course it may be danger 
 ous before.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 283 
 
 u I tell you, Katy, I neber tink to put um on a finger.” 
 
 “ Go then, Caesar, and do not forget the left pocket ; be careful 
 to take off your hat as you pass the grave-yard, and be expeditious ; 
 for nothing, I am certain, can be more trying to the patience, than 
 thus to be waiting for the ceremony, when a body has fully made 
 up her mind to marry.” 
 
 With this injunction Caesar quitted the house, and he was soon 
 firmly fixed in the saddle. From his youth, the black, like all of 
 his race, had been a hard rider ; but, bending under the weight of 
 sixty winters, his African blood had lost some of its native heat. 
 The night was dark, and the wind whistled through the vale with the 
 dreariness of November. When Caesar reached the grave-yard, he 
 uncovered his grizzled head with superstitious awe, and he threw 
 around him many a fearful glance, in momentary expectation of 
 seeing something superhuman. There was sufficient light to discern 
 a being of earthly mould stealing from among the graves, apparently 
 with a design to enter the highway. It is in vain that philosophy 
 and reason contend with early impressions, and poor Csesar was even 
 without the support of either of these frail allies. He was, how- 
 ever, well mounted on a coach-horse of Mr. Wharton’s, and, clinging 
 to the back of the animal with instinctive skill, he abandoned the 
 rein to the beast. Hillocks, woods, rocks, fences, and houses flew 
 by him with the rapidity of lightning, and the black had just begun 
 to think whither and on what business he was riding in this headlong 
 manner, when he reached the place where the roads met, and the 
 “ Hotel Flanagan” stood before him in its dilapidated simplicity. 
 The sight of a cheerful fire first told the negro that he had reached 
 the habitation of man, and with it came all his dread of the bloody 
 Virginians; — his duty must, however, be done, and, dismounting, 
 he fastened the foaming animal to a fence, and approached the win- 
 dow with cautious steps, to reconnoitre. 
 
 Before a blazing fire sat Sergeant Hollister and Betty Flanagan, 
 enjoying themselves over a liberal potation 
 
284 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u I tell yee, Sargeant dear,” said Betty, removing the mug from 
 her mouth, “’tis no rasonable to think it was more than the pidler 
 himself ; sure now, where was the smell of sulphur, and the wings, 
 and the tail, and the cloven foot ? — besides, Sargeant, it ’s no dacent 
 to tell a lone famale that she had Beelzeboob for a bedfellow.” 
 
 “ It matters but little, Mrs. Flanagan, provided you escape his 
 talons and fangs hereafter,” returned the veteran, following the re- 
 mark by a heavy draught. 
 
 Caesar heard enough to convince him, that little danger from this 
 pair was to be apprehended. His teeth already began to chatter, 
 and the cold without and the comfort within stimulated him greatly 
 to enter. He made his approaches with proper caution, and knocked 
 with extreme humility. The appearance of Hollister with a drawn 
 sword, roughly demanding who was without, contributed in no de- 
 gree to the restoration of his faculties ; but fear itself lent him power 
 to explain his errand. 
 
 u Advance,” said the Sergeant, throwing a look of close scrutiny 
 on the black, as he brought him to the light ; “ advance, and deliver 
 your despatches : have you the countersign ?” 
 
 u I don’t tink he know what dat be,” said the black, shaking in 
 his shoes, u dough massa dat sent me gib me many tings to carry, 
 dat he little understand.” 
 
 u Who ordered you on this duty, did you say ?” 
 
 “Well, it war he doctor, heself, so he come up on a gallop, as he 
 alway do on a doctor’s errand.” 
 
 “’Twas Doctor Sitgreaves; he never knows the countersign him- 
 self. Now, blackey, had it been Captain Lawton, he would not 
 have sent you here, close to a sentinel, without the countersign ; for 
 you might get a pistol bullet through your head, and that would be 
 cruel to you ; for although you be black, I am none of them who 
 x hinks niggers have no souls.” 
 
 a Sure a nagur has as much sowl as a white,” said Betty ; u come 
 hither, ould man, and warm that shivering carcase of yeers by the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 285 
 
 blaze of this fire. I ’m sure a Guinea nagur loves hate as much as 
 a souldier loves his drop.” 
 
 Caesar obeyed in silence, and a mulatto boy, who was sleeping on 
 a bench in the room, was bidden to convey the note of the surgeon 
 to the building where the wounded were quartered. 
 
 “ Here,” said the washerwoman, tendering to Caesar a taste of the 
 article that most delighted herself, u try a drop, smooty, ’t will warm 
 the black sowl within your crazy body, and be giving you spirits as 
 you are going homeward.” 
 
 “ I tell you, Elizabeth,” said the Sergeant, “ that the souls of 
 niggers are the same as our own; how often have I heard the good 
 Mr. Whitfield say, that there was no distinction of colour in heaven. 
 Therefore it is reasonable to believe that the soul of this here black 
 is as white as my own, or even Major Dunwoodie’s.” 
 
 “ Be sure he be,” cried Caesar, a little tartly, whose courage had 
 revived by tasting the drop of Mrs. Flanagan. 
 
 “It's a good sowl that the Major is, any way,” returned the 
 washerwoman ; “ and a kind sowl — ay, and a brave sowl too ; and 
 yee’ll say all that yeerself, Sargeant, I'm thinking.” 
 
 u For the matter of that,” returned the veteran, u there is one 
 above even Washington, to judge of souls; but this I will say, that 
 Major Dunwoodie is a gentleman who never says, Go, boys — but 
 always say?, Come, boys; and if a poor fellow is in want of a spur 
 or a martingale, and the leather-whack is gone, there is never want- 
 ing the real silver to make up the loss, and that from his own pocket 
 too.” 
 
 u Why, then, are you here idle when all that he holds most dear 
 are in danger?” cried a voice with startling abruptness; “ mount, 
 mount, and follow your captain ; arm and mount, and that instantly, 
 or you will be too late !” 
 
 This unexpected interruption produced an instantaneous confusion 
 amongst the tipplers. Cmsar fled instinctively into the fire-place, 
 where he maintained his position in defiance of a heat that would 
 

 T HE S r Y. 
 
 have roasted a white man. Sergeant Hollister turned promptly on 
 his heel 5 and seizing his sabre, the steel was glittering by the fire- 
 light, in the twinkling of an eye ; but perceiving the intruder to be 
 the pedler, who stood near the open door that led to the lean-to in 
 the rear, he began to fall back towards the position of the black, 
 with a military intuition that taught him to concentrate his forces. 
 Betty alone stood her ground, by the side of the temporary table. 
 Replenishing the mug with a large addition of the article known to 
 the soldiery by the name of u choke-dog,” she held it towards the 
 pedler. The eyes of the washerwoman had for some time been 
 swimming with love and liquor, and turning them good-naturedly 
 on Birch, she cried — 
 
 “ Faith, but yee 're wilcome, Mister Pidler, or Mister Birch, or 
 Mister Beelzeboob, or what 's yeer name. Yee 're an honest divil 
 any way, and I 'm hoping that you found the pitticoats convanient. 
 Come forward, dear, and fale the fire ; Sargeant Hollister won't be 
 hurting you, for the fear of an ill turn you may be doing him here- 
 after — will yee, sargeant, dear?” 
 
 u Depart, ungodly man !” cried the veteran, edging still nearer to 
 Csesar, but lifting his legs alternately as they scorched with the heat, 
 “ depart in peace ! There is none here for thy service, and you seek 
 the woman in vain. There is a tender mercy that will save her 
 from thy talons.” The Sergeant ceased to utter aloud, but the mo- 
 tion of his lips continued, and a few scattering words of prayer were 
 alone audible. 
 
 The brain of the washerwoman was in such a state of confusion 
 that she did not clearly comprehend the meaning of her suitor, but 
 a new idea struck her imagination, and she broke forth — 
 
 “If it 's me the man saaks, where 's the matter, pray ? am I not 
 a widowed body, and my own property ? And you talk of tinder- 
 ness, sargeant; but it's little I see of it any way : who knows but 
 Mr. Beelzeboob here is free to spake his mind ? I'm sure it is wil- 
 ling to hear I am.” 
 
THE STY. 
 
 287 
 
 “ Woman /' 7 said the pedler, “ be silent ; and you, foolish man, 
 mount — arm and mount, and fly to the rescue of your officer, if 
 you are worthy of the cause in which you serve, and would not dis- 
 grace the coat you wear / 7 The pedler vanished from the sight of 
 the bewildered trio, with a rapidity that left them uncertain whither 
 he had fled 
 
 On hearing the voice of an old friend, Csesar emerged from his 
 corner, and fearlessly advanced to the spot where Betty had reso- 
 lutely maintained her ground, though in a state of utter mental 
 confusion. 
 
 “I wish Harvey stop / 7 said the black; “if he ride down a road, 
 I should like he company; — I don 7 t tink Johnny Birch hurt he 
 own son . 77 
 
 “ Poor ignorant wretch ! 77 exclaimed the veteran, recovering his 
 voice with a long-drawn breath ; “ think you that figure was made 
 of flesh and blood ? 77 
 
 “ Harvey an’t fleshy / 7 replied the black, “ but he berry clebber 
 man . 77 
 
 “ Pooh ! sargeant dear / 7 exclaimed the washerwoman, “ talk 
 rason for once, and mind what the knowing one tells yee; call 
 out the boys, and ride a bit after Captain J ack ; rimimber, darling, 
 that he told yee, the day, to be in readiness to mount at a moments 
 warning . 77 
 
 “Ay, but not at a summons from the foul fiend. Let Captain 
 Lawton, or Lieutenant Mason, or Cornet Skipwith, say the word, 
 and who is quicker in the saddle than I ? 77 
 
 “Well, Sargeant, how often is it that yee 7 ve boasted to myself 
 that the corps was n 7 t a bit afeard to face the divil ? 77 
 
 “ No more are we, in battle array, and by daylight; but it 7 s fool- 
 hardy and irreverent to tempt Satan, and on such a night as this : 
 listen how the wind whistles through the trees ; and hark ! there is 
 the howling of evil spirits abroad . 77 
 
288 
 
 T HE S P r. 
 
 / 
 
 “ I see him,” said Csesar, opening his eyes to a width that might 
 have embraced more than an ideal form. 
 
 “ Where ?” interrupted the Sergeant, instinctively laying his hand 
 on the hilt of his sabre 
 
 “No — no/* said the black, “I see a Johnny Birch come out of 
 he grave — J ohnny walk afore he buried.” 
 
 “ Ah ! then he must have led an evil life indeed/' said Hollister; 
 the blessed in spirit lie quiet until the general muster, but wickedness 
 disturbs the soul in this life as well as in that which is to come.” 
 “And what is to come of Captain Jack?” cried Betty, angrily; 
 “is it yeer orders that yee won't mind, nor a warning given ? I '11 
 jist git my cart, and ride down and tell him that yee 're afeard of a 
 dead man and Beelzeboob ; and it is n't succour he may be expicting 
 from yee. I wonder who '11 be the orderly of the troop the morrow, 
 then ? — his name won't be Hollister, any way.” 
 
 “ Nay, Betty, nay,” said the Sergeant, laying his hand familiarly 
 on her shoulder ; “ if there must be riding to-night, let it be by him 
 whose duty it is to call out the men and to set an example. The 
 Lord have mercy, and send us enemies of flesh and blood !” 
 
 Another glass confirmed the veteran in a resolution that was only 
 excited by a dread of his Captain's displeasure, and he proceeded to 
 summon the dozen men who had been left under his command. 
 The boy arriving with the ring, Caesar placed it carefully in the 
 pocket of his waistcoat next his heart, and, mounting, shut his eyes, 
 seized his charger by the mane, and continued in a state of compara- 
 tive insensibility, until the animal stopped at the door of the warm 
 stable whence he had started. 
 
 The movements of the dragoons, being timed to the order of a 
 march, were much slower, for they were made with a watchfulness 
 that was intended to guard against surprise from the evil one 
 himself. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Be not your tongue thy own shame’s orator ; 
 
 I/ook sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty > 
 
 Apparel vice like virtue’s harbinger. 
 
 Comedy of Errors. 
 
 The situation of the party in Mr. Wharton's dwelling was suffi- 
 ciently awkward, during the hour of Caesar's absence ; for such was 
 the astonishing rapidity displayed by his courser, that the four miles 
 of road was gone over, and the events we have recorded had occurred, 
 somewhat within that period of time. Of course, the gentlemen 
 strove to make the irksome moments fly as swiftly as possible ; but 
 premeditated happiness is certainly of the least joyous kind. The 
 bride and bridegroom are immemorially privileged to be dull, and 
 but few of their friends seemed disposed, on the present occasion, to 
 dishonour their example. The English Colonel exhibited a proper 
 portion of uneasiness at this unexpected interruption of his felicity, 
 and he sat with a varying countenance by the side of Sarah, who 
 seemed to be profiting by the delay to gather fortitude for the solemn 
 ceremony. In the midst of this embarrassing silence, Dr. Sitgreaves 
 addressed himself to Miss Peyton, by whose side he had contrived 
 to procure a chair. 
 
 u Marriage, madam, is pronounced to be honourable in the sight 
 of God and man : and it may be said to be reduced, in the present 
 age, to the laws of nature and reason. The ancients, in sanctioning 
 polygamy, lost sight of the provisions of nature, and condemned 
 thousands to misery, but with the increase of science have grown 
 the wise ordinances of society, which ordain that man should be th° 
 husband of but one woman." 
 
 13 
 
290 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Wellmere glanced a fierce expression of disgust at the surgeon 
 that indicated his sense of the tediousness of the other's remarks : 
 while Miss Peyton, with a slight hesitation, as if fearful of touching 
 on forbidden subjects, replied — 
 
 “ I had thought, sir, that we were indebted to the Christian reli- 
 gion for our morals on this subject." 
 
 u True, madam, it is somewhere provided in the prescriptions of 
 the apostles, that the sexes should henceforth be on an equality in 
 this particular. But in what degree could polygamy affect holiness 
 of life ? It was probably a wise arrangement of Paul, who was much 
 of a scholar, and probably had frequent conferences, on this import- 
 ant subject, with Luke, whom we all know to have been bred to the 
 practice of medicine — ” 
 
 There is no telling how far the discursive fancy of Sitgreaves 
 might have led him, on this subject, had he not been interrupted. 
 But Lawton, who had been a close though silent observer of all that 
 passed, profited by the hint to ask abruptly — 
 
 u Pray, Colonel Wellmere, in what manner is bigamy punished 
 in England?" 
 
 The bridegroom started, and his lip blanched. Recovering him- 
 self, however, on the instant, he answered with a suavity that be- 
 came so happy a man, — 
 
 “ Death ! — as such an offence merits," he said. 
 
 “ Death and dissection," continued the operator : “ it is seldom 
 that the law loses sight of eventual utility in a malefactor. Bigamy, 
 in a man, is a heinous offence !" 
 
 “ More so than celibacy ?" asked Lawton. 
 
 u More so," returned the surgeon, with undisturbed simplicity : 
 “ he who remains in a single state may devote his life to science and 
 the extension of knowledge, if not of his species; but the wretch 
 who profits by the constitutional tendency of the female sex to cre- 
 dulity and tenderness, incurs the wickedness of a positive sin, height, 
 ened by the baseness of deception." 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 291 
 
 “ Really, sir, the ladies are infinitely obliged to yon, for attribut- 
 ing folly to them as part of their nature.” 
 
 u Captain Lawton, in man the animal is more nobly formed than 
 in woman. The nerves are endowed with less sensibility • the whole 
 frame is less pliable and yielding ; is it, therefore, surprising, that a 
 tendency to rely on the faith of her partner is more natural to woman 
 than to the other sex?” 
 
 Wellmere, as if unable to listen with any degree of patience to so 
 ill-timed a dialogue, sprang from his seat and paced the floor in dis- 
 order. Pitying his situation, the reverend gentleman, who was pa- 
 tiently awaiting the return of Caesar, changed the discourse, and a 
 few minutes brought the black himself. The billet was handed to 
 Dr. Sitgreaves; for Miss Peyton had expressly enjoined Caesar not 
 to implicate her, in any manner, in the errand on which he was des- 
 patched. The note contained a summary statement of the several 
 subjects of the surgeon’s directions, and referred him to the black 
 for the ring. The latter was instantly demanded, and promptly de- 
 livered. A transient look of melancholy crowded the brow of the 
 surgeon, as he stood a moment, and gazed silently on the bauble ; 
 nor did he remember the place, or the occasion, while he soliloquised 
 as follows : — 
 
 u Poor Anna ! gay as innocence and youth could make thee was 
 thy heart, when this cincture was formed to grace thy nuptials ; but 
 ere the hour had come, God had taken thee to himself. Years have 
 passed, my sister, but never have I forgotten the companion of my 
 infancy !” He advanced to Sarah, and, unconscious of observation, 
 placing the ring on her finger, continued — u She for whom it was 
 intended has long been in her grave, and the youth who bestowed 
 the gift soon followed her sainted spirit : take it, madam, and God 
 grant that it may be an instrument in making you as happy as you 
 deserve !” 
 
 Sarah felt a chill at her heart, as this burst of feeling escaped the 
 surgeon; but Wellmere offering his hand, she was led before the 
 
•292 
 
 THE SPY, 
 
 divine, and the ceremony began. The first words of this imposing 
 office produced a dead stillness in the apartment : and the minister 
 of God proceeded to the solemn exhortation, and witnessed the 
 plighted troth of the parties, when the investiture was to follow. 
 The ring had been left, from inadvertency, and the agitation of the 
 moment, on the finger where Sitgreaves had placed it : — the slight 
 interruption occasioned by the circumstance was over, and the cler- 
 gyman was about to proceed, when a figure gliding into the midst 
 of the party, at once put a stop to the ceremony. It was the pedler. 
 His look was bitter and ironical, while a finger, raised towards the 
 divine, seemed to forbid the ceremony to go any farther. 
 
 “ Can Colonel Wellmere waste the precious moments here, when 
 his wife has crossed the ocean to meet him ? The nights are long, 
 and the moon bright; — a few hours will take him to the city.” 
 
 Aghast at the suddenness of this extraordinary address, Wellmere 
 for a moment lost the command of his faculties. To Sarah, the 
 countenance of Birch, expressive as it was, produced no terror; but 
 the instant she recovered from the surprise of his interruption, she 
 turned her anxious gaze on the features of the man to whom she had 
 just pledged her troth. They afforded the most terrible confirma- 
 tion of all that the pedler affirmed ; the room whirled round, and 
 she fell lifeless into the arms of her aunt. There is an instinctive 
 delicacy in woman, that seems to conquer all other emotions ; and 
 the insensible bride was immediately conveyed from sight, leaving 
 the room to the sole possession of the other sex. 
 
 The confusion enabled the pedler to retreat with a rapidity that 
 would have baffled pursuit, had any been attempted, and Wellmere 
 stood with every eye fixed on him, in ominous silence. 
 
 “ ? Tis false — Tis false as hell!” he cried, striking his forehead. 
 u I have ever denied her claim ; nor will the laws of my country 
 compel me to acknowledge it.” 
 
 “But what will conscience and the laws of God do?” asked 
 Lawton. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 293 
 
 “ ’T is well, sir,” said Wellmere, haughtily , and retreating towards 
 the door — “my situation protects you now; but a time may 
 come — ■” 
 
 He had reached the entry, when a slight tap on his shoulder 
 caused him to turn his head ; — it was Captain Lawton, who, with a 
 smile of peculiar meaning, beckoned him to follow. The state of 
 Wellmere’ s mind was such, that he would gladly have gone any- 
 where to avoid the gaze of horror and detestation that glared from 
 every eye he met. They reached the stables before the trooper 
 spoke, when he cried aloud — - 
 
 “ Bring out Boanoke !” 
 
 His man appeared with the steed caparisoned for its master. 
 Lawton, coolly throwing the bridle on the neck of the animal, took 
 his pistols from the holsters, and continued — “ Here are weapons 
 that have seen good service before to-day — ay, and in honourable 
 hands, sir. These were the pistols of my father, Colonel Wellmere: 
 he used them with credit in the wars with France, and gave them tc 
 me to fight the battles of my country with. In what better way can 
 I serve her than in exterminating a wretch who would have blasted 
 one of her fairest daughters?” 
 
 “ This injurious treatment shall meet with its reward,” cried the 
 other, seizing the offered weapon ; “ the blood lie on the head of 
 him who sought it !” 
 
 “Amen ! but hold a moment, sir. You are now free, and the 
 passports of Washington are in your pocket; I give you the fire; if 
 I fall, there is a steed that will outstrip pursuit ; and I would advise 
 you to retreat without much delay, for even Archibald Sitgreaves 
 would fight in such a cause — nor will the guard above be very apt 
 to give quarter.” 
 
 “Are you ready?” asked Wellmere, gnashing his teeth with rage. 
 
 “ Stand forward, Tom, with the lights; — fire !” 
 
 Wellmere fired, and the bullion flew from the epaulette of the 
 trooper. 
 
294 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ Now the turn is mine,” said Lawton, deliberately levelling Ins 
 pistol. i 
 
 “And mine !” shouted a voice, as the weapon was struck from his 
 hand. “ By all the devils in hell, ’t is the mad Virginian ! — fall 
 on, my boys, and take him ; this is a prize not hoped for !” 
 
 Unarmed, and surprised as he was, Lawton’s presence of mind 
 did not desert him ; he felt that he was in the hands of those from 
 whom he was to expect no mercy ; and, as four of the Skinners felj 
 upon him at once, he used his gigantic strength to the utmost 
 Three of the band grasped him by the neck and arms, with an intent 
 to clog his efforts, and pinion him with ropes. The first of these he 
 threw from him, with a violence that sent him against the building, 
 where he lay stunned with the blow. But the fourth seized his 
 legs; and, unable to contend with such odds, the trooper came to 
 the earth, bringing with him all of his assailants. The struggle on 
 the ground was short but terrific ; — curses and the most dreadful 
 imprecations were uttered by the Skinners, who in vain called on 
 more of their band, who were gazing on the combat in nerveless 
 horror, to assist. A difficulty of breathing, from one of the com- 
 batants, was heard, accompanied by the stifled moanings of a 
 strangled man; and directly one of the group arose on his feet, 
 shaking himself free from the wild grasp of the others. Both Well- 
 mere and the servant of Lawton had fled ; the former to the stables, 
 and the latter to give the alarm, leaving all in darkness. The figure 
 that stood erect sprang into the saddle of the unheeded charger; 
 sparks of fire, issuing from the armed feet of the horse, gave a mo- 
 mentary light by which the captain was seen dashing like the wind 
 towards the highway. 
 
 “By hell he’s off!” cried the leader, hoarse with rage and 
 exhaustion ; “ fire ! — bring him down — fire, or you ’ll be too late.’' 
 
 The order was obeyed, and one moment of suspense followed, in 
 the vain hope of hearing the huge frame of Lawton tumbling from 
 his steed 
 
T HE S r Y . 
 
 296 
 
 “ He would not fall if you had killed him/* muttered one; “I've 
 known these Virginians sit their horses with two or three balls 
 through them ; ay, even after they were dead/’ 
 
 A freshening of the wind wafted the tread of a horse down the 
 valley , which, by its speed, gave assurance of a rider governing its 
 motion. 
 
 “ These trained horses always stop when the rider falls/' observed 
 one of the gang. 
 
 “ Then/' cried the leader, striking his musket on the ground in a 
 rage, “ the fellow is safe ! — to your business at once. A short 
 half-hour will bring down that canting Sergeant and the guard upon 
 us. 'T will be lucky if the guns don't turn them out. Quick, to 
 your posts, and fire the house in the chambers ; smoking ruins are 
 good to cover evil deeds." 
 
 “ What is to be done with this lump of earth ?" cried another, 
 pushing the body that yet lay insensible, where it had been hurled 
 by the arm of Lawton ; “ a little rubbing would bring him to. 
 
 “Let him lie," said the leader, fiercely; “had he been half a 
 man, that dragooning rascal would have been in my power; — enter 
 the house, I say, and fire the chambers. We can't go amiss here; 
 — there is plate and money enough to make you all gentlemen — 
 and revenge too." 
 
 The idea of silver in any way was not to be resisted ; and, leaving 
 their companion, who began to show faint signs of life, they rushed 
 tumultuously towards the dwelling. Wellmere availed himself of 
 the opportunity, and, stealing from the stable with his own charger, 
 he was able to gain the highway unnoticed. For an instant he hesi- 
 tated, whether to ride towards the point where he knew the guard 
 was stationed, and endeavour to i :scue the family, or, profiting by 
 his liberty, and the exchange that had been effected by the divine, 
 to seek the royal army. Shame, and a consciousness of guilt, deter- 
 mined him to take the latter course, and he rode towards New York, 
 stung with the reflection of his own baseness, and harassed with the 
 
‘^96 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 apprehension of meeting with an enraged woman, that he had mar 
 ried during his late visit to England, but whose claims, as soon as 
 his passion was sated, he had resolved never willingly to admit. In 
 the tumult and agitation of the moment, the retreat of Lawton and 
 Wellmere was but little noticed; the condition of Mr. Wharton de 
 manding the care and consolation of both the surgeon and the divine 
 The report of the fire-arms first roused the family to the sense of a 
 new danger, and but a moment elapsed before the leader, and one 
 more of the gang, entered the room. 
 
 u Surrender ! you servants of King George,” shouted the leader, 
 presenting his musket to the breast of Sitgreaves, “ or I will let a 
 little tory blood from your veins.” 
 
 u Gently — gently, my friend,” said the surgeon ; u you are 
 doubtless more expert in inflicting wounds than in healing them ; 
 the weapon that you hold so indiscreetly is extremely dangerous to 
 animal life.” 
 
 “ Yield, or take its contents.” 
 
 u Why and wherefore should I yield ? — I am a non-combatant. 
 The articles of capitulation must be arranged with Captain John 
 Lawton; though yielding, I believe, is not a subject on which you 
 will find him particularly complying.” 
 
 The fellow had by this time taken such a survey of the group, as 
 convinced him that little danger was to be apprehended from resist- 
 ance, and, eager to seize his share of the plunder, he dropped his 
 musket, and was soon busy, with the assistance of his men, in 
 arranging divers articles of plate in bags. The cottage now present- 
 ed a singular spectacle ; — the ladies were gathered around Sarah, 
 who yet continued insensible, in one of the rooms that had escaped 
 the notice of the marauders. Mr. Wharton sat in a state of perfect 
 imbecility, listening to, but not profiting by, the unmeaning words 
 of comfort that fell from the lips of the clergyman. Singleton was 
 lying on a sofa, shaking with debility, and inattentive to surrounding 
 objects ; while the surgeon was administering restoratives, and look* 
 
THE S P Y . 
 
 297 
 
 ing at the dressings, with a coolness that mocked the tumult. 
 Caesar, and the attendant of Captain Singleton, had retreated to the 
 wood in the rear of the cottage, and Katy Haynes was flying about 
 the building, busily employed in forming a bundle of valuables, from 
 which, with the most scrupulous honesty, she rejected every article 
 that was not really and truly her own. 
 
 But to return to the party at the Four Corners. When the vete- 
 ran had got his men mounted and under arms, a restless desire to 
 participate in the glory and dangers of the expedition came over the 
 washerwoman. Whether she was impelled to the undertaking by a 
 dread of remaining alone, or a wish to hasten in person to the relief 
 of her favourite, we will not venture to assert • but, as Hollister was 
 giving the orders to wheel and march, the voice of Betty was heard, 
 exclaiming — 
 
 “ Stop a bit, Sargeant dear, till two of the boys git out the cart, 
 and I’ll jist ride wid yee; ^t is like there ’ll be wounded, and it will 
 be mighty convanient to bring them home in.” 
 
 Although inwardly much pleased, with any cause of delay, to a 
 service that he so little relished, Hollister affected some displeasure 
 at the detention. 
 
 “ Nothing but a cannon-ball can take one of my lads from his 
 charger,” he said ) “ and it ’s not very likely that we shall have as 
 fair fighting as cannon and musketry, in a business of the evil one’s 
 inventing ; so, Elizabeth, you may go if you will, but the cart will 
 not be wanting.” 
 
 “Now, Sargeant dear, you lie, any way,” said Betty, who was 
 somewhat unduly governed by her potations ; “ and was n’t Captain 
 Singleton shot off his horse but tin days gone by ? ay, and Captain 
 J ack himself too ; and did n’t he lie on the ground, face uppermost, 
 and back downwards, looking grim ? and did n’t the boys tink him 
 dead, and turn and lave the rig’lars the day ?” 
 
 “You lie back again,” cried the Sergeant, fiercely : “and so does 
 any one who says that we did n’t gain the day.” 
 
 13 * 
 
208 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ For a bit or so — only I mane for a bit or so,” said the washer- 
 woman; “but Major Dunwoodie turned you, and so you licked the 
 rig’iars. But the Captain it was that fell, and I ’m thinking that 
 there’s no better rider going; so, Sargeant, it’s the cart will be 
 convanient. Here, two of you, jist hitch the mare to the tills, and 
 it ’s no whiskey that yee ’ll be wanting the morrow ; and put the 
 piece of Jenny’s hide under the pad; the baste is never the better 
 for the rough ways of the county West-Chester.” The consent of 
 the Sergeant being obtained, the equipage of Mrs. Flanagan was 
 soon in readiness to receive its burthen. 
 
 “ As it is quite uncertain whether we shall be attacked in front, 
 or in rear,” said Hollister, “ five of you shall march in advance, and 
 the remainder shall cover our retreat towards the barrack, should 
 we be pressed. ’T is an awful moment to a man of little learning, 
 Elizabeth, to command in such a service ; for my part, I wish de- 
 voutly that one of the officers were here ; but my trust is in the 
 Lord.” 
 
 “ Pooh ! man, away wid yee,” said the washerwoman, who had 
 got herself comfortably seated ; “ the divil a bit of an inimy is the^e 
 near. March on, hurry-skurry, and let the mare trot, or it’s but 
 little that Captain Jack will thank yee for the help.” 
 
 “ Although unlearned in matters of communicating with spirits, 
 or laying the dead, Mrs. Flanagan,” said the veteran, “ I have not 
 served through the old war, and five years in this, not to know how 
 to guard the baggage. Doesn’t Washington always cover the bag- 
 gage ? I am not to be told my duty by a camp follower. Fall in 
 as you are ordered, and dress, men.” 
 
 “ Well, march, any way,” cried the impatient washerwoman ; “ the 
 black is there already, and it’s tardy the Captain will think yee.” 
 
 “ Are you sure that it was really a black man that brought the 
 order ?” said the Sergeant, dropping in between the platoons, where 
 he could converse with Betty, and be at hand, to lead on an emer- 
 gency, either on an advance or on a retreat. 
 
the s p y . 
 
 299 
 
 “Nay — and I’m sure of nothing, dear. But why don’t the 
 boys prick their horses and jog a trot? the mare i« mighty unasy, 
 and it’s no warm in this cursed valley, riding as much like a fune- 
 ral party as old rags is to continental.”* 
 
 “Fairly and softly, ay, and prudently, Mrs. Flanagan; it ? s not 
 rashness that makes the good officer. If we have to encounter a 
 spirit, it ’s more than likely he ’ll make his attack by surprise ; horses 
 are not very powerful in the dark, and I have a character to lose, 
 good woman.” 
 
 “ Caractur ! and isn’t it caractur and life too that Captain Jack 
 has to lose?” 
 
 “ Halt !” cried the sergeant; “ what is that lurking near the foot 
 of the rock, on the left?” 
 
 “Sure, it’s nothing, unless it be matter of Captain Jack’s sowl 
 that’s come to haunt yee, for not being brisker on the march.” 
 
 “ Betty, your levity makes you an unfit comrade for such an ex- 
 pedition. Advance, one of you, and reconnoitre the spot; — draw 
 swords ! — rear rank, close to the front !” 
 
 “Pshaw!” shouted Betty, “is it a big fool or a big coward that 
 yee are? jist wheel from the road, boys, and I’ll shove the mare 
 down upon it in the twinkling of an eye — and it’s no ghost that 
 I fear.” 
 
 By this time one of the men had returned, and declared there was 
 nothing to prevent their advancing, and the party continued their 
 march, but with great deliberation and caution. 
 
 “ Courage and prudence are the jewels of a soldier, Mrs. Flana- 
 gan,” said the sergeant : “ without the one, the other may be said to 
 be good for nothing.” 
 
 * The paper money issued by congress was familiarly called continental 
 money. This term “ continental” was applied to the army, the congress, the 
 ships of war, and, in short, to almost every thing or interest which belonged 
 to the new government. It would seem to have been invented as the oppo 
 site of the insular position of the mother country. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 300 
 
 “ Prudence without courage: is it that you mane? — and it’s so 
 that I'm thinking myself, Sargeant. This baste pulls tight on the 
 reins any way.” 
 
 “ Be patient, good woman ; — hark ! what is that ?” said Hollister, 
 pricking up his ears at the report of Wellmere’s pistol; “I'll swear 
 that was a human pistol, and one from our regiment. — Bear rank, 
 close to the front ! — Mrs. Flanagan, I must leave you.” So saying, 
 having recovered all his faculties, by hearing a sound that he under- 
 stood, he placed himself at the head of his men with an air of mili- 
 tary pride, that the darkness prevented the washerwoman from be- 
 holding. A volley of musketry now rattled in the night wind, and 
 the sergeant exclaimed — 
 
 “ March ! — quick time !” 
 
 The next instant the trampling of a horse was heard coming up 
 the road, at a rate that announced a matter of life or death ; and 
 Hollister again halted his party, riding a short distance in front him- 
 self, to meet the rider. 
 
 “ Stand ! — who goes there ?” shouted Hollister. 
 
 “ Ha ! Hollister, is it you ?” cried Lawton, “ ever ready, and at 
 your post; but where is the guard?” 
 
 “At hand, sir, and ready to follow you through thick and thin,” 
 said the veteran, relieved at once from responsibility, and as eager 
 as a boy to be led against his enemy. 
 
 “'Tis well \” said the trooper, riding up to his men; then, speak- 
 ing a few words of encouragement, he led them down the valley at 
 a rate but little less rapid than his approach. The miserable horse 
 of the sutler was soon distanced, and Betty, thus thrown out in the 
 chase, turned to the side of the road, and observed — 
 
 “There — it's no difficult to tell that Captain Jack is wid 'em, 
 any way ; and away they go like so many nagur boys to a husking- 
 frolic; — well, I'll jist hitch the mare to this bit of a fence, and 
 walk down and see the sport afoot — it's no rasonable to expose 
 the baste to be hurted.” 
 
THE S P ¥ . 
 
 301 
 
 Led on by Lawton, tlie men followed, destitute alike of fear and 
 reflection. Whether it was a party of the refugees, or a detach- 
 ment from the royal army, that they were to assail, they were pro- 
 foundly ignorant ; but they knew that the officer in advance was dis- 
 tinguished for courage and personal prowess; and these are virtues 
 that are sure to captivate the thoughtless soldiery. On arriving near 
 the gates of the Locusts, the trooper halted his party, and made his 
 arrangements for the assault. Dismounting, he ordered eight of his 
 men to follow his example, and turning to Hollister, said — 
 
 “ Stand you here, and guard the horses; if any thing attempt to 
 pass, stop it, or cut it down, and — •” The flames at this moment 
 
 burst through the dormer-windows and cedar roof of the cottage, and 
 a bright light glared on the darkness of the night. u On !” shouted 
 the trooper, “ on ! — give quarter when you have done justice 
 
 There was a startling fierceness in the voice of the trooper that 
 reached to the heart, even amid the horrors of the cottage. The 
 leader of the Skinners dropped his plunder, and, for a moment, 
 he stood in nerveless dread ; then rushing to a window, he threw up 
 the sash ; — at this instant Lawton entered, sabre in hand, into the 
 apartment. 
 
 u Die, miscreant ! ” cried the trooper, cleaving a marauder to the 
 jaw : but the leader sprang into the lawn, and escaped his vengeance. 
 The shrieks of the females restored Lawton to his presence of mind, 
 and the earnest entreaty of the divine induced him to attend to the 
 safety of the family. One more of the gang fell in with the dra- 
 goons, and met his death ; but the remainder had taken the alarm 
 in season. Occupied with Sarah, neither Miss Singleton, nor the 
 ladies of the house, had discovered the entrance of the Skinners, 
 though the flames were raging around them with a fury that threat- 
 ened the building with rapid destruction. The shrieks of Katy and 
 the terrified consort of Caesar, together with the noise and uproar in 
 the adjacent apartment, first roused Miss Peyton and Isabella to a 
 sense of their danger. 
 
302 
 
 THE S P Y. 
 
 “ Merciful Providence !” exclaimed the alarmed aunt ; “ there is 
 a dreadful confusion in the house, and there will he bloodshed in 
 consequence of this affair.” 
 
 “ There are none to fight,” returned Isabella, with a face palei 
 than that of the other; “Dr. Sitgreaves is very peaceable in his 
 disposition, and surely Captain Lawton would not forget himself 
 so far.” 
 
 “ The southern temper is quick and fiery,” continued Miss Pey- 
 ton ; “ and your brother, feeble and weak as he is, has looked the 
 whole afternoon flushed and angry.” 
 
 u Good Heaven !” cried Isabella, with difficulty supporting her- 
 self on the couch of Sarah ; “ he is gentle as the lamb by nature, 
 though the lion is not his equal when roused.” 
 
 “ We must interfere : our presence will quell the tumult, and pos- 
 sibly save the life of a fellow-creature.” 
 
 Miss Peyton, excited to attempt what she conceived a duty worthy 
 of her sex and nature, advanced with the dignity of injured female 
 feeling, to the door, followed by Isabella. The apartment to which 
 Sarah had been conveyed was in one of the wings of the building, 
 and it communicated with the principal hall of the cottage by a long 
 and dark passage. This was now light, and across its termination 
 several figures were seen rushing with an impetuosity that prevented 
 an examination of their employment. 
 
 “ Let us advance,” said Miss Peyfon, with a firmness her face 
 belied : “ they must respect our sex.” 
 
 “ They shall,” cried Isabella, taking the lead in the enterprise. 
 Frances was left alone with her sister. A few minutes were passed 
 in silence; when a loud crash, in the upper apartments, was suc- 
 ceeded by a bright light that glared through the open door, and 
 made objects as distinct to the eye as if they were placed under a 
 noon-day sun. Sarah raised herself on her bed, and staring wildly 
 around, pressed both her hands on her forehead, endeavouring to 
 recollect herself — 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 t ‘$U3 
 
 ‘' This, then, is heaven — and you are one of its bright spirits. 
 Oh ! how glorious is its radiance ! I had thought the happiness I 
 have lately experienced was too much for earth. But we shall meet 
 again — yes — yes — we shall meet again.” 
 
 “Sarah! Sarah I” cried Frances, in terror; “my sister — my 
 only sister — Oh ! do not smile so horridly : know me, or you will 
 break my heart.” 
 
 “ Hush,” said Sarah, raising her hand for silence ; “ you may 
 disturb his rest — surely, he will follow me to the grave. Think 
 you there can be two wives in the grave ? No — no — no — one — 
 one — one — only one.” 
 
 Frances dropped her head into the lap of her sister, and wept in 
 agony. 
 
 “ Bo you shed tears, sweet angel ?” continued Sarah, soothingly ; 
 “then heaven is not exempt from grief. But where is Henry? 
 Fie was executed, and he must be here too ; perhaps they will come 
 together. Oh, how joyful will be the meeting !” 
 
 Frances sprang on her feet, and paced the apartment. The eye 
 of Sarah followed her in childish admiration of her beauty. 
 
 “You look like my sister; but all good and lovely spirits are 
 alike. Tell me, were you ever married ? Bid you ever let a stran- 
 ger steal ' your affections from father, and brother, and sister ? If 
 not, poor wretch, I pity you, although you may be in heaven.” 
 
 “Sarah — peace, peace — I implore you to be silent,” shrieked 
 Frances, rushing to her bed, “ or you will kill me at your 
 feet.” 
 
 Another dreadful crash shook the building to its centre. It was 
 the falling of the roof, and the flames threw their light abroad, so 
 as to make objects visible around the cottage, through the windows 
 of the room. Frances flew to one of them, and saw the confused 
 group that was collected on the lawn. Among them were her aunt 
 and Isabella, pointing with distraction to the flery edifice, and appa- 
 rently urging the dragoons to enter it. For the first time she com* 
 
304 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 prehended their danger ; and uttering a wild shriek, she flew through 
 the passage without consideration, or object. 
 
 A dense and suffocating column of smoke opposed her progress. 
 She paused to breathe, when a man caught her in his arms, and 
 bore her, in a state of insensibility, through the falling embers and 
 darkness, to the open air. The instant that Frances recovered her 
 recollection, she perceived that she owed her life to Lawton, and 
 throwing herself on her knees, she cried — 
 
 “ Sarah ! Sarah ! Sarah ! save my sister, and may the blessing of 
 God await you l” 
 
 Her strength failed, and she sunk on the grass, in insensibility. 
 The trooper pointed to her figure, motioned to Katy for assistance, 
 and advanced once more to the building. The fire had already com- 
 municated to the wood-work of the piazzas and windows, and the 
 whole exterior of the cottage was covered with smoke. The only 
 entrance was through these dangers, and even the hardy and impetu- 
 ous Lawton paused to consider. It was for a moment only, when 
 he dashed into the heat and darkness, where, missing the entrance, 
 he wandered for a minute, and precipitated himself back, again, upon 
 the lawn. Drawing a single breath of pure air, he renewed the ef- 
 fort, and was again unsuccessful. On a third trial, he met a man 
 staggering under the load of a human body. It was neither the 
 place, nor was there time, to question, or to make distinctions ; seiz- 
 ing both in his arms, with gigantic strength, he bore them through 
 the smoke. He soon perceived, to his astonishment, that it was the 
 surgeon, and the body of one of the Skinners, that he had saved. 
 
 “ Archibald he exclaimed, u why, in the name of justice, did 
 you bring this miscreant to light again ? His deeds are rank to 
 heaven !” 
 
 The surgeon, who had been in imminent peril, was too much be- 
 wildered to reply instantly, but wiping the moisture from his fore- 
 head, and clearing his lungs from the vapour he had inhaled, be 
 said piteously — 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 no 5 
 
 u Ah ! it is all over ! Had I been in time to have stopped the 
 effusion from the jugular, he might have been saved ; but the heat 
 was conducive to hemorrhage; life is extinct indeed. Well, are 
 there any more wounded?” 
 
 His question was put to the air, for Frances had been removed to 
 the opposite side of the building, w T here her friends were collected, 
 and Lawton once more had disappeared in the smoke. 
 
 By this time the flames had dispersed much of the suffocating 
 vapour, so that the trooper was able to find the door, and in its very 
 entrance he was met by a man supporting the insensible Sarah. 
 There was but barely time to reach the lawn again, before the fire 
 broke through the windows, and wrapped the whole building in a 
 sheet of flame. 
 
 “ God be praised !” ejaculated the preserver of Sarah ; “ it would 
 have been a dreadful death to die.” 
 
 The trooper turned from gazing at the edifice, to the speaker, and 
 to his astonishment, instead of one of his own men, he beheld the 
 pedler. 
 
 u Ha ! the spy,” he exclaimed : “ by heavens, you cross me like 
 a spectre.” 
 
 u Captain Lawton,” said Birch, leaning in momentary exhaustion 
 against the fence, to which they had retired from the heat, u I am 
 again- in your power, for I can neither flee, nor resist.” 
 
 u The cause of America is dear to me as life,” said the trooper ; 
 u but she cannot require her children to forget gratitude and honour. 
 Fly, unhappy man, while yet you are unseen, or it will exceed my 
 power to save you.” 
 
 u May God prosper you, and make you victorious over your ene- 
 mies,” said Birch, grasping the hand of the dragoon with an iron 
 strength that his meagre figure did not indicate. 
 
 u Hold !” said Lawton ; “ but a word — are you what you seem ? 
 • — can you — are } 7 ou — ” 
 
30G 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “A royal spy,” interrupted Birch, averting his face, and endea 
 vouring to release his hand. 
 
 “ Then go, miserable wretch,” said the trooper, relinquishing hi 3 
 grasp ; u either avarice or delusion has led a noble heart astray !” 
 
 The bright light from the flames reached a great distance around 
 the ruins, but the words were hardly past the lips of Lawton, before 
 the gaunt form of the pedler had glided over the visible space, and 
 plunged into the darkness beyond. 
 
 The eye of Lawton rested for a moment on the spot where he had 
 last seen this inexplicable man, and then turning to the yet insen- 
 sible Sarah, he lifted her in his arms, and bore her, like a sleeping 
 infant, to the care of her friends. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 - And now her charms are fading fast, 
 
 Her spirits now no more are gay : 
 
 Alas ! that beauty cannot last ! 
 
 That flowers so sweet so soon decay i 
 How sad appears 
 The vale of years, 
 
 How changed from youth’s too flattering scene i 
 Where are her fond admirers gone ? 
 
 Alas ! and shall there then be none 
 On whom her soul may lean?” 
 
 Cynthia’s Grave. 
 
 The walls of the cottage were all that was left of the building; and 
 these ; blackened by smoke, and stripped of their piazzas and orna- 
 ments, were but dreary memorials of the content and security that 
 had so lately reigned within. The roof, together with the rest of 
 the wood-work, had tumbled into the cellars, and a pale and hitting 
 light, ascending from their embers, shone faintly through the win- 
 dows. The early flight of the Skinners left the dragoons at liberty 
 to exert themselves in saving much of the furniture, which lay 
 scattered in heaps on the lawn, giving the finishing touch of desola- 
 tion to the scene. Whenever a stronger ray of light than common 
 shot upwards, the composed figures of Sergeant Hollister and his 
 associates, sitting on their horses in rigid discipline, were to be seen 
 in the background of the picture, together with the beast of Mrs. 
 Flanagan, which, having slipped its bridle, was quietly grazing by 
 the highway. Betty herself had advanced to the spot where the 
 Sergeant was posted, and, with an incredible degree of composure, 
 witnessed the whole of the events as they occurred. More than 
 
308 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 once she suggested to her companion, that, as the fighting seemed 
 to be over, the proper time for plunder had arrived ; but the veteran 
 acquainted her with his orders, and remained both inflexible and 
 immoveable ; until the washerwoman, observing Lawton come round 
 the wing of the building with Sarah, ventured amongst the warriors. 
 The Captain, after placing Sarah on a sofa that had been hurled 
 from the building by two of his men, retired, that the ladies might 
 succeed him in his care. Miss Peyton and her niece flew, with a 
 rapture that was blessed with a momentary forgetfulness of all but 
 her preservation, to receive Sarah from the trooper; but the vacant 
 eye, and flushed cheek, restored them instantly to their recollection. 
 
 “ Sarah, my child, my beloved niece,” said the former, folding 
 the unconscious bride in her arms, “ you are saved, and may the 
 blessing of God await him who has been the instrument.” 
 
 “ See,” said Sarah, gently pushing her aunt aside, and pointing 
 to the glimmering ruins, “ the windows are illuminated in honour 
 of my arrival. They always receive a bride thus — he told me they 
 would do no less; listen, and you will hear the bells.” 
 
 “ Here is no bride, no rejoicing, nothing but wo !” cried Frances, 
 in a manner but little less frantic than that of her sister ; “ Oh ! 
 may Heaven restore you to us — to yourself!” 
 
 “ Peace, foolish young woman,” said Sarah, with a smile of af- 
 fected pity ; “ all cannot be happy at the same moment ; perhaps 
 you have no brother, or husband, to console you ; you look beauti- 
 ful, and you will yet find one; but,” she continued, dropping her 
 voice to a whisper, “ see that he has no other wife — ’ tis dreadful 
 to think what might happen, should he be twice married.” 
 
 “ The shock has destroyed her mind,” cried Miss Peyton : “ my 
 child, my beauteous Sarah is a maniac !” 
 
 “No, no, no,” cried Frances, “it is fever; she is light-headed — 
 she must recover — she shall recover.” 
 
 The aunt caught joyfully at the hope conveyed in this suggestion, 
 and despatched Katy to request the immediate aid and advice of 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 300 
 
 Dr. Sitgreaves. The surgeon was found enquiring among the men 
 for professional employment, and inquisitively examining every 
 bruise and scratch that he could induce the sturdy warriors to ac- 
 knowledge they had received. A summons, of the sort conveyed 
 by Katy, was instantly obeyed, and not a minute elapsed before he 
 was by the side of Miss Peyton. 
 
 “ This is a melancholy termination to so joyful a commencement 
 of the night, madam,” he observed, in a soothing manner ; “ but 
 war must bring its attendant miseries; though doubtless it often 
 supports the cause of liberty, and improves the knowledge of surgi- 
 cal science.” 
 
 Miss Peyton could make no reply, but pointed to her niece, in 
 agony. 
 
 “'Tis fever,” answered Frances; “see how glassy is her eye, and 
 look at her cheek, how flushed.” 
 
 The surgeon stood for a moment, deeply studying the outward 
 symptoms of his patient, and then he silently took her hand in his 
 own. It was seldom that the hard and abstracted features of Sit- 
 greaves discovered any violent emotion; all his passions seemed 
 schooled, and his countenance did not often betray what, indeed, his 
 heart frequently felt. In the present instance, however, the eager 
 gaze of the aunt and sister quickly detected his emotions. After 
 laying his fingers for a minute on the beautiful arm, which, bared 
 to the elbow, and glittering with jewels, Sarah suffered him to retain, 
 he dropped it, and dashing a hand over his eyes, turned sorrowfully 
 away. 
 
 “Here is no fever to excite — ’t is a case, my dear madam, for 
 time and care only; these, with the blessing of God, may effect a 
 cure.” 
 
 “ And where is the wretch who has caused this ruin ?” exclaimed 
 Singleton, rejecting the support of his man, and making an effort to 
 rise from the chair, to which he had been driven by debility. “ It 
 
310 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 is in vain that we overcome our enemies, if, conquered, they can 
 inflict such wounds as this.” 
 
 “Dost think, foolish boy,” said Lawton, with a bitter smile, 
 “ that hearts can feel in a colony ? What is America but a satellite 
 of England — to move as she moves, follow where she wists, and 
 shine, that the mother country may become more splendid by her 
 radiance ? Surely you forget that it is honour enough for a colonist 
 to receive ruin from the hand of a child of Britain.” 
 
 “ I forget not that I wear a sword,” said Singleton, falling back 
 exhausted; “but was there no willing arm ready to avenge that 
 lovely sufferer — to appease the wrongs of this hoary father ?” 
 
 “ Neither arms, nor hearts are wanting, sir, in such a cause ;” 
 bustling up to his side ; “ but chance oftentimes helps the wicked. 
 By heavens I ’d give Eoanoke himself, for a clear field with the 
 miscreant !” 
 
 “ Nay ! captain dear, no be parting with the horse, any way,” said 
 Betty ; “ it is no trifle that can be had by jist asking of the right 
 person, if yee ’re in need of silver, and the baste is sure of foot, and 
 jumps like a squirrel.” 
 
 “Woman, fifty horses, ay, the best that were ever reared on the 
 banks of the Potomac, would be but a paltry price, for one blow at 
 a villain.” 
 
 “ Come,” said the surgeon, “ the night air can do no service to 
 George, or these ladies, and it is incumbent on us to remove them 
 where they can find surgical attendance and refreshment. Here is 
 nothing but smoking ruins and the miasma of the swamps.” 
 
 To this rational proposition no objection could be raised, and the 
 necessary orders were issued by Lawton to remove the whole party 
 to the Four Corners. 
 
 America furnished but few and very indifferent carriage-makers at 
 the period of which we write, and every vehicle, that in the least 
 aspired to that dignity, was the manufacture of a London mechanic. 
 When Mr. Wharton left the city, he was one of the very few who 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 311 
 
 maintained the state of a carriage; and, at the time Miss Peyton 
 and his daughters joined him in his retirement, they had been con- 
 veyed to the cottage in the heavy chariot that had once so imposingly 
 roi led through the windings of Queen Street, or emerged, with som- 
 bre dignity, into the more spacious drive of Broadway. This vehicle 
 stood, undisturbed, ’where it had been placed on its arrival, and the 
 age of the horses alone had protected the favourites of Caesar from 
 sequestration by the contending forces in their neighbourhood. With 
 a heavy heart, the black, assisted by a few of the dragoons, proceeded 
 to prepare it for the reception of the ladies. It was a cumbrous 
 vehicle, whose faded linings and tarnished hammercloth, together 
 with its panels of changing colour, denoted the want of that art 
 which had once given it lustre and beauty. The “ lion couchant” 
 of the Wha^on ^arms was reposing on the reviving splendour of a 
 blazonry that told the armorial bearings of a prince of the church ; 
 and the mitre, that already began to shine through its American 
 mask, was a symbol of the rank of its original owner. The chaise 
 which conveyed Miss Singleton was also safe, for the stable and out- 
 buildings had entirely escaped the flames : it certainly had been no 
 part of the plan of the marauders to leave so well-appointed a stud 
 behind them, but the suddenness of the attack by Lawton, not only 
 disconcerted their arrangements on this point, but on many others 
 also. A guard was left on the ground, under the command of Hol- 
 lister, wdio, having discovered that his enemy was of mortal mould, 
 took his position with admirable coolness, and no little skill, to guard 
 against surprise. He drew off his small party to such a distance 
 from the ruins, that it was effectually concealed in the darkness, 
 while at the same time the light continued sufficiently powerful to 
 discover any one who might approach the lawn with an intent to 
 plunder. 
 
 Satisfied with this judicious arrangement, Captain Lawton made 
 his dispositions for the march. Miss Peyton, her two nieces, and 
 Isabella, were placed in the chariot, while the cart of Mrs. Flanagan. 
 
312 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 amply supplied with blankets and a bed, was honoured with the 
 person of Captain Singleton. Dr. Sitgreaves took charge of the 
 chaise and Mr. Wharton. What became of the rest of the family, 
 during that eventful night, is unknown : for Caesar alone, of the 
 domestics, was to be found, if we except the housekeeper. Having 
 disposed of the whole party in this manner, Lawton gave the word 
 to march. He remained himself, for a few minutes, alone, on the 
 lawn, secreting various pieces of plate and other valuables, that he 
 was fearful might tempt the cupidity of his own men ; when, per- 
 ceiving nothing more that he conceived likely to overcome their 
 honesty, he threw himself into the saddle with the soldierly inten- 
 tion of bringing up the rear. 
 
 a Stop, stop,” cried a female voice : u will you leave me alone to 
 be murdered ? the spoon is melted, I believe, and I '11 have compen- 
 sation, if there 's law or justice in this unhappy land.” 
 
 Lawton turned an eye in the direction of the sound, and perceived 
 a female emerging from the ruins, loaded with a bundle, that vied in 
 size with the renowned pack of the pedler. 
 
 “ Who have we here,” said the trooper, “ rising like a phoenix 
 from the flames. Oh ! by the soul of Hippocrates, but it is the 
 identical she-doctor, of famous needle reputation. Well, good woman, 
 what means this outcry?” 
 
 u Outcry !” echoed Katy, panting for breath ; “ is it not dispar- 
 agement enough to lose a silver spoon, but I must be left alone in 
 this lonesome place, to be robbed, and perhaps murdered ? Harvey 
 would not serve me so : when I lived with Harvey, I was always 
 treated with respect, at least, if he was a little close with his secrets, 
 and wasteful of his money.” 
 
 u Then, madam, you once formed part of the household of Mr. 
 Harvey Birch?” 
 
 “ You may say I was the whole of his household,” returned the 
 other ; “ there was nobody but I, and he, and the old gentleman ; 
 you didn’t know the old gentleman, perhaps?” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 313 
 
 “ That happiness was denied me : how long did you live in the 
 family of Mr. Birch ?” 
 
 “ I disremember the precise time, but it must have been hard on 
 upon nine years : and what better am I for it all ?” 
 
 “ Sure enough ; I can see but little benefit that you have derived 
 from the association, truly. But is there not something unusual in 
 the movements and character of this Mr. Birch ?” 
 
 “ Unusual is an easy word for such unaccoun tables !” replied 
 Katy, lowering her voice, and looking around her; “he was a 
 wonderful disregardful man, and minded a guinea no more than I do 
 a kernel of corn. But help me to some way of joining Miss 
 Jinitt, and I will tell you prodigies of what Harvey has done, first 
 and last.” 
 
 “You will!” exclaimed the trooper, musing; “here, give me 
 leave to feel your arm above the elbow. There — you are not defi- 
 cient in bone, let the blood be as it may.” So saying, he gave the 
 spinster a sudden whirl, that effectually confused all her faculties, 
 until she found herself safely, if not comfortably, seated on the 
 crupper of Lawton’s steed. 
 
 “ Now, madam, you have the consolation of knowing that you are 
 as well mounted as Washington. The nag is sure of foot, and will 
 leap like a panther.” 
 
 “Let me get down,” cried Katy, struggling to release herself 
 from his iron grasp, and yet afraid of falling ; “ this is no 
 
 way to put a woman on a horse; besides, I can’t ride without 
 a pillion.” 
 
 “ Softly, good madam,” said Lawton ; “ for although Boanoke 
 never falls before, he sometimes rises behind. He is far from being 
 accustomed to a pair of heels beating upon his flanks like a drum- 
 major on a field day; a single touch of the spur will serve him for 
 a fortnight, and it is by no means wise to be kicking in this manner, 
 for he is a horse that but little likes to be outdone.” 
 
 “Let me down, I say,” screamed Katy; “I shall fall and be 
 
 14 
 
314 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 killed. Besides, I have nothing to hold on with; my arms are full 
 of valuables.” 
 
 “True,” returned the trooper, observing that he had brought 
 bundle and all from the ground ; “I perceive that you belong to 
 the baggage-guard ; but my sword-belt will encircle your little waist, 
 as well as my own.” 
 
 Katy was too much pleased with this compliment to make any 
 resistance, while he buckled her close to his own herculean frame, 
 and, driving a spur into his charger, they flew from the lawn with a 
 rapidity that defied further denial. After proceeding for some time, 
 at a rate that a good deal discomposed the spinster, they overtook the 
 cart of the washerwoman driving slowly over the stones, with a proper 
 consideration for the wounds of Captain Singleton. The occurrences 
 of that eventful night had produced an excitement in the young 
 soldier, that was followed by the ordinary lassitude of reaction, and 
 he lay carefully enveloped in blankets, and supported by his man, 
 but little able to converse, though deeply brooding over the past. 
 The dialogue between Lawton and his companion ceased with the 
 commencement of their motions, but a foot-pace being more favour- 
 able to speech, the trooper began anew — 
 
 “ Then, you have been an inmate in the same house with Harvey 
 Birch?” 
 
 “ For more than nine years,” said Katy, drawing her breath, ami 
 rejoicing greatly that their speed was abated. 
 
 The deep tones of the trooper’s voice were no sooner conveyed to 
 the ears of the washerwoman, than, turning her head, where she sat 
 directing the movements of the mare, she put into the discourse at 
 the first pause — 
 
 “ Belike, then, good woman, yee’r knowing whether or no he ’s 
 akin to Beelzeboob,” said Betty; “it’s Sargeant Hollister who 's 
 saying the same, and no fool is the Sargeant, any way.” 
 
 “It’s a scandalous disparagement,” cried Katy, vehemently, 
 “ no kinder soul than Harvey carries a pack ; and for a gownd or a 
 
T HE SPY. 
 
 315 
 
 tidy apron, he will never take a king's farthing from a friend. Beel- 
 zebub, indeed ! For what would he read the Bible, if he had deal- 
 ings with the evil spirit?" 
 
 “ He 's an honest divil, any way; as I was saying before, the 
 guinea was pure. But then the Sargeant thinks him amiss, and it ’s 
 no want of laming that Mister Hollister has." 
 
 u He ’s a fool !" said Katy, tartly; u Harvey might be a man of 
 substance, were he not so disregardful. How often have I told him, 
 that if he did nothing but peddle, and would put his gains to use, 
 and get married, so that things at home could be kept within doors, 
 and leave off his dealings with the rig’lars, and all incumberments, 
 that he would soon become an excellent liver. Sargeant Hollister 
 would be glad to hold a candle to him, indeed !" 
 
 u Pooh !" said Betty, in her philosophical way ; u yee’r no think- 
 ing that Mister Hollister is an officer, and stands next the cornet, in 
 the troop. But this pidler gave warning of the brush the night, 
 and it's no sure that Captain Jack would have got the day, but for 
 the reinforcement." 
 
 u How say you, Betty," cried the trooper, bending forward on his 
 saddle, u had you notice of our danger from Birch ?" 
 
 u The very same, darling ; and it 's hurry I was till the boys was 
 in motion ; not but I knew yee'r enough for the Cow-Boys any time. 
 But wid the divil on your side, I was sure of the day. I 'm only 
 wondering there 's so little plunder, in a business of Beelzeboob’s 
 contriving." 
 
 :: I 'm obliged to you for the rescue, and equally indebted to the 
 motive." 
 
 “ Is it the plunder ? But little did I tink of it till I saw the 
 moveables on the ground, some burnt, and some broke, and other 
 some as good as new. It would be convanient to have one feather- 
 bed in the corps, any way." 
 
 u By heavens, ’t was timely succour ! Had not Boanoke been 
 
310 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 swifter than their bullets, I must have fallen. The animal is worth 
 his weight in gold.” 
 
 “ It 's continental, you mane, darling. Groold weighs heavy, and 
 is no plenty in the states. If the nagur had n't been staying and 
 frighting the Sargeant with his copper-coloured looks, and a matter 
 of blarney 'bout ghosts, we should have been in time to have killed 
 all the dogs, and taken the rest prisoners.” 
 
 “ It is very well as it is, Betty,” said Lawton ; “ a day will yet 
 come, I trust, when these miscreants shall be rewarded, if not in 
 judgments upon their persons, at least in the opinions of their fel- 
 low-citizens. The time must arrive when America will learn to dis- 
 tinguish between a patriot and a robber.” 
 
 “ Speak low,” said Katy ; “ there 's some who think much of 
 themselves, that have doings with the Skinners.” 
 
 “It's more they are thinking of themselves, then, than other 
 people thinks of them,” cried Betty; “a tief's a tief, any way; 
 whether he stales for King George or for Congress.” 
 
 “•I know’d that evil would soon happen,” said Katy; “the sun 
 set to-night behind a black cloud, and the house-dog whined, although 
 I gave him his supper with my own hands ; besides, it 's not a week 
 sin' I dreamed the dream about the thousand lighted candles, and 
 the cakes being burnt in the oven.” 
 
 “ Well,” said Betty, “ it's but little I drame, any way. Jist keep 
 an asy conscience and a plenty of the stuff in yee, and ye '11 sleep 
 like an infant. The last drame I had was when the boys put the 
 thistle-tops in the blankets, and then I was thinking that Captain 
 Jack's man was currying me down, for the matter of Boanoke ; but 
 it 's no trifle I mind either in skin or stomach.” 
 
 “I'm sure,” said Katy, with a stiff erection that drew Lawton 
 back in his saddle, “ no man shall ever dare to lay hands on bed of 
 mine ; it 's undecent and despisable conduct.” 
 
 “ Pooh ! pooh !” cried Betty ; “ if you tag after a troop of horse, 
 i small bit of a joke must be borne : what would become of the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 317 
 
 states and liberty, if the boys had never a clane shirt, or a drop to 
 comfort them? Ask Captain Jack, there, if they’d fight, Mrs. 
 Beelzeboob, and they no clane linen to keep the victory in.” 
 
 “I’m a single woman, and my name is Haynes,” said Katy, 
 “and I’d thank you to use no disparaging terms when speaking 
 to me.” 
 
 “ You must tolerate a little license in the tongue of Mrs. Flana- 
 gan, madam,” said the trooper ; “ the drop she speaks of is often of 
 an extraordinary size, and then she has acquired the freedom of a 
 soldier’s manner. 
 
 “ Pooh ! Captain, darling,” cried Betty, “ why do you bother the 
 woman ? talk like yeerself, dear, and it ’s no fool of a tongue that 
 yee ’ve got in yeer own head. But it ’s here away that the Sar- 
 geant made a halt, thinking tjiere might be more divils than one 
 stirring, the night. The clouds are as black as Arnold’s heart, and 
 deuce the star is there twinkling among them. Well, the mare is 
 used to a march after nightfall, and is smelling out the road like a 
 pointer slut.” 
 
 “ It wants but little to the rising moon,” observed the trooper. 
 He called a dragoon, who was riding in advance, issued a few orders 
 and cautions relative to the comfort and safety of Singleton, and 
 speaking a consoling word to his friend himself, gave Boanoke the 
 spur, and dashed by the cart, at a rate that again put to flight all 
 the philosophy of Catharine Haynes. 
 
 “ Hood luck to yee, for a free rider and a bold !” shouted the 
 washerwoman, as he passed ; “ if yee ’re meeting Mister Beelzeboob, 
 jist back the baste up to him, and show him his consort that yee ’ve 
 got on the crupper. I’m thinking it’s no long he’d tarry to chat. 
 Well, well, it’s his life that we saved, he was saying so himself — 
 though the plunder is nothing to signify.” 
 
 The cries of Betty Flanagan were too familiar to the ears of Cap- 
 tain Lawton to elicit a reply. Notwithstanding the unusual burden 
 that Boanoke sustained, he got over the ground with great rapidity, 
 
318 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 and the distance between the cart of Mrs. Flanagan and the chariot 
 of Miss Peyton was passed in a manner that, however it answered 
 the intentions of the trooper, in no degree contributed to the comfort 
 of his companion. The meeting occurred but a short distance from 
 the quarters of Lawton, and at the same instant the moon broke 
 from behind a mass of clouds, and threw its light upon objects. 
 
 Compared with the simple elegance and substantial comfort of the 
 Locusts, the “ Hotel Flanagan” presented but a dreary spectacle. 
 In the place of carpeted floors and curtained windows,' were the 
 yawning cracks of a rudely-constructed dwelling, and boards and 
 paper were ingeniously applied to supply the place of the green 
 glass in more than half the lights. The care of Lawton had antici- 
 pated every improvement that their situation would allow, and 
 blazing fires were made before the party arrived. The dragoons, 
 who had been charged with this duty, had conveyed a few necessary 
 articles of furniture, and Miss Peyton and her companions, on alight- 
 ing, found something like habitable apartments prepared for their 
 reception. The mind of Sarah had continued to wander during the 
 ride, and, with the ingenuity of the insane, she accommodated 
 every circumstance to the feelings that were uppermost in her own 
 bosom. 
 
 u It is impossible to minister to a mind that has sustained such a 
 blow,” said Lawton to Isabella Singleton ; u time and God’s mercy 
 can alone cure it ; but something more may be done towards the 
 bodily comfort of all. You are a soldier’s daughter, and used to 
 scenes like this ; help me to exclude some of the cold air from these 
 windows.” 
 
 Miss Singleton acceded to his request, and while Lawton was en- 
 deavouring, from without, to remedy the defect of broken panes, 
 Isabella was arranging a substitute for a curtain within. 
 
 “ I hear the cart,” said the trooper, in reply to one of her inter- 
 rogatories. “ Betty is tender-hearted in the main ; believe me, poor 
 George will not only be safe, but comfortable.” 
 
T HE SPY. 
 
 319 
 
 u God bless her, for her care, and bless you all,” said Isabella, 
 fervently. “ Dr. Sitgreaves has gone down the road to meet him, I 
 know — what is that glittering in the moon?” 
 
 Directly opposite the window where they stood, were the out- 
 buildings of the farm, and the quick eye of Lawton caught at a 
 glance the object to which she alluded. 
 
 “ ’T is the glare of fire-arms,” said the trooper, springing from the 
 window towards his charger, which yet remained caparisoned at the 
 door. His movement was quick as thought, but a flash of fire was 
 followed by the whistling of a bullet, before he had proceeded a step. 
 A loud shriek burst from the dwelling, and the Captain sprang into 
 his saddle : the whole was the business of but a moment. 
 
 u Mount — mount, and follow!” shouted the trooper; and before 
 his astonished men could understand the cause of alarm, Roanoke 
 had carried him in safety over the fence which lay between him and 
 his foe. The chase was for life or death, but the distance to the 
 rocks was again too short, and the disappointed trooper saw his in 
 tended victim vanish in their clefts, where he could not follow. 
 
 “ By the life of Washington,” muttered Lawton, as he sheathed 
 his sabre, u I would have made two halves of him, had he not been 
 so nimble on the foot — but a time will come 1” So saying, he re- 
 turned to his quarters, with the indifference of a man who knew his 
 life was at any moment to be offered a sacrifice to his country. An 
 extraordinary tumult in the house induced him to quicken his speed, 
 and on arriving at the door, the panic-stricken Katy informed him 
 that the bullet, aimed at his own life, had taken effect in the bosom 
 of Miss Singleton. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Hush’d were his Gertrude’s lips ! but still their bland 
 And beautiful expression seem’d to melt 
 With love that could not die ! and still his hand 
 She presses to the heart no more that felt. 
 
 Gertrude of Wyoming. 
 
 The brief arrangements of the dragoons had prepared two apartments 
 for the reception of the ladies, the one being intended as a sleeping 
 room, and situated within the other. Into the latter Isabella was 
 immediately conveyed, at her own request, and placed on a rude bed 
 by the side of the unconscious Sarah. When Miss Peyton and 
 Frances flew to her assistance, they found her with a smile on her 
 pallid lip, and a composure in her countenance, that induced them 
 to think her uninjured. 
 
 “ God be praised !” exclaimed the trembling aunt ; “ the report 
 of fire-arms, and your fall, had led me into an error. Surely, surely, 
 there was enough of horror before ; but this has been spared us.” 
 Isabella pressed her hand upon her bosom, still smiling, but with 
 a ghastliness that curdled the blood of Frances, — 
 
 “ Is George far distant ?” she asked, “ let him know — hasten 
 him, that I may see my brother, once again.” 
 
 “ It is as I apprehended !” shrieked Miss Peyton ; “ but you 
 smile — surely you are not hurt !” 
 
 “ Quite well — quite happy,” murmured Isabella; “here is a 
 remedy for every pain.” 
 
 Sarah arose from the reclining posture she had taken, and gazed 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 321 
 
 wildly at her companion. She stretched forth her own hand, and 
 raised that of Isabella from her bosom. It was dyed in blood. 
 
 “ See/' said Sarah, “ but will it not wash away love ? Marry, 
 young woman, and then no one can expel him from your heart, un- 
 less" — she added, whispering, and bending over the other, — “you 
 find another there before you ; then die, and go to heaven — there 
 are no wives in heaven." 
 
 The lovely maniac hid her face under the clothes, and continued 
 silent during the remainder of the night. At this moment Lawton 
 entered. Inured as he was to danger in all its forms, and accus- 
 tomed to the horrors of a partisan war, the trooper could not behold 
 the ruin before him, unmoved. He bent over the fragile form of 
 Isabella, and his gloomy eye betrayed the workings of his soul. 
 
 “ Isabella," he at length uttered, “ I know you to possess a courage 
 beyond the strength of women." 
 
 “ Speak," she said, earnestly ; “ if you have any thing to say, 
 speak fearlessly." 
 
 The trooper averted his face as he replied — “None ever receive 
 a ball there, and survive." 
 
 “I have no dread of death, Lawton," returned Isabella — “I 
 thank you for not doubting me ; I felt it, from the first." 
 
 “ These are not scenes for a form like yours," added the 
 trooper : “ 't is enough that Britain calls our youth to the field ; 
 but when such loveliness becomes the victim of war, I sicken of my 
 trade." 
 
 “ Hear me, Captain Lawton," said Isabella, raising herself with 
 difficulty, but rejecting aid : “ from early womanhood to the present 
 hour have I been an inmate of camps and garrisons. I have lived 
 to cheer the leisure of an aged father, and think you I would change 
 those days of danger and privation for any ease ? No ! I have the 
 consolation of knowing, in my dying moments, that what woman 
 could do in such a cause, I have done." 
 
 “ Who could prove a recreant, and witness such a spirit ! Hun- 
 U* 
 
322 
 
 T H i2 SPY. 
 
 dreds of warriors have I witnessed in their blood, but never a firmer 
 soul among them all.” 
 
 “’Tis the soul only,” said Isabella; “my sex and strength have 
 denied me the dearest of privileges. But to you, Captain Lawton, 
 nature has been more bountiful : you have an arm and a heart to 
 devote to the cause ; and I know they are an arm and a heart that 
 will prove true to the last. And George — and — ■” she paused, her 
 lip quivered, and her eye sunk to the floor. 
 
 “And Dunwoodie !” added the trooper ; “ would you speak of 
 Dunwoodie V 
 
 “ Name him not,” said Isabella, sinking back, and concealing her 
 face in her garments : “ leave me, Lawton — prepare poor George 
 for this unexpected blow.” 
 
 The trooper continued for a little while gazing, in melancholy 
 interest, at the convulsive shudderings of her frame, which the scanty 
 covering could not conceal, and withdrew to meet his comrade. The 
 interview between Singleton and his sister was painful, and, for a 
 moment, Isabella yielded to a burst of tenderness ; but, as if aware 
 that her hours were numbered, she was the first to rouse herself to 
 exertion. At her earnest request, the room was left to herself, the 
 Captain, and Frances. The repeated applications of the surgeon, to 
 be permitted to use professional aid, were steadily rejected, and, at 
 length, he was obliged unwillingly to retire. 
 
 “Baise me,” said the dying young woman, “and let me look on 
 a face that I love, once more.” Frances silently complied, and Isa- 
 bella turned her eyes in sisterly affection upon George — “ It mat- 
 ters but little, my brother; — a few hours must close the scene.” 
 
 “ Live, Isabella, my sister, my only sister !” cried the youth, with 
 a burst of sorrow that he could not control ; “ my father ! my poor 
 father — ” 
 
 “ There is the sting of death ; but he is a soldier and a Christian. 
 Miss Wharton, I would speak of what interests you, while yet I 
 lave strength for the task.” 
 
T H E SPY. 
 
 323 
 
 a Nay/’ said Frances, tenderly, “ compose yourself; let no desire 
 to oblige me endanger a life that is precious to — to — so many,” 
 The words were nearly stifled by her emotions, for the other had 
 touched a chord that thrilled to her heart. 
 
 “ Poor, sensitive girl !” said Isabella, regarding her with tender 
 interest; “but the world is still before you, and why should I dis- 
 turb the little happiness it may afford ! Dream on, lovely innocent ! 
 and may God keep the evil day of knowledge far distant !” 
 
 “ Oh, there is even now little left for me to enjoy/’ said Frances, 
 burying her face in the clothes ; “ I am heart-stricken, in all that I 
 most loved.” 
 
 “ No!” interrupted Isabella; “you have one inducement to wish 
 for life, that pleads strongly in a woman’s breast. It is a delusion 
 that nothing but death can destroy — ” Exhaustion compelled her 
 
 to pause, and her auditors continued in breathless suspense, until, 
 recovering her strength, she laid her hand on that of Frances, and 
 continued more mildly — “ Miss Wharton, if there breathes a spirit 
 congenial to Dunwoodie’s, and worthy of his love, it is your 
 own.” 
 
 A flush of fire passed over the face of the listener, and she raised 
 her eyes, flashing with an ungovernable look of delight, to the coun 
 tenance of Isabella ; but the ruin she beheld recalled better feelings, 
 and again her head dropped upon the covering of the bed. Isabella 
 watched her emotion with a look that partook both of pity and admi- 
 ration. 
 
 “ Such have been the feelings that I have escaped,” she con- 
 tinued ; “ yes, Miss Wharton, Dunwoodie is wholly yours.” 
 
 “ Be just to yourself, my sister,” exclaimed the youth ; “ let no 
 romantic generosity cause you to forget your own character.” 
 
 She heard him, and fixed a gaze of tender interest on his face, but 
 slowiy shook her head as she replied — 
 
 “ It is not romance, but truth, that bids me speak. Oh ! how 
 much have I lived within an hour! Miss Wharton, I was born 
 
824 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 under a burning sun, and my feelings seem to have imbibed its 
 warmth; I have existed for passion, only.” 
 
 “ Say not so — say not so, I implore you,” cried the agitated 
 brother; “ think how devoted has been your love to our aged father; 
 how disinterested, how tender, your affection to me !” 
 
 “ Yes,” said Isabella, a smile of mild pleasure beaming on her 
 countenance ; “ that, at least, is a reflection which may be taken to 
 the grave.” 
 
 Neither Frances nor her brother interrupted her meditations, 
 which continued for several minutes; when, suddenly recollecting 
 herself, she continued — 
 
 “I remain selfish even to the last; with me, Miss Wharton, 
 America and her liberties was my earliest passion, and — ” again 
 she paused, and Frances thought it was the struggle of death that 
 followed ; but reviving, she proceeded — “ Why should I hesitate, 
 on the brink of the grave ! Dunwoodie was my next and my last. 
 But,” burying her face in her hands, “ it wa& a love that was un- 
 sought.” 
 
 “ Isabella !” exclaimed her brother, springing from the bed, and 
 pacing the floor in disorder. 
 
 “ See how dependent we become under the dominion of worldly 
 pride ; it is painful to George to learn that one he loves had not 
 feelings superior to her nature and education.” 
 
 “ Say no more,” whispered Frances ; “ you distress us both — say 
 no more, I entreat you.” 
 
 “ In justice to Dunwoodie I must speak ; and for the same reason, 
 my brother, you must listen. By no act or word has Dunwoodie 
 ever induced me to believe, he wished me more than a friend : nay, 
 latterly, I have had the burning shame of thinking that he avoided 
 my presence.” 
 
 “ Would he dare!” said Singleton, fiercely. 
 
 “ Peace, my brother, and listen,” continued Isabella, rousing her- 
 self with an effort that was final; “here is the innocent, the justifi 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 325 
 
 able cause We are both motherless; but that aunt — that mild, 
 plain-hearted, observing aunt, has given you the victory. Oh ! how 
 much she loses, who loses a female guardian to her youth. I have 
 exhibited those feelings which you have been taught to repress. 
 After this, can I wish to live V’ 
 
 Isabella ! my poor Isabella ! you wander in your mind.” 
 
 u But one word more — for I feel that blood, which ever flowed 
 Coo swiftly, rushing where nature never intended it to go. Woman 
 must be sought to be prized ; her life is one of concealed emotions ; 
 blessed are they 'whose early impressions make the task free from 
 hypocrisy, for such only can be happy with men like — like Dun- 
 woodie.” Her voice failed, and she sunk back on her pillow in 
 silence. The cry of Singleton brought the rest of the party to her 
 bedside, but death was already upon her countenance ; her remain- 
 ing strength just sufficed to reach the hand of George, and pressing 
 it to her bosom for a moment, she relinquished her grasp, and, with 
 a slight convulsion, expired. 
 
 Frances Wharton had thought that fate had done its worst, in 
 endangering the life of her brother, and destroying the reason of her 
 sister ; but the relief conveyed by the dying declaration of Isabella 
 taught her that another sorrow had aided in loading her heart with 
 grief. She saw the whole truth at a glance ; nor wa« the manly 
 delicacy of Dunwoodie lost upon her — every thing tended to raise 
 him in her estimation ; and, for mourning that duty and pride had 
 induced her to strive to think less of him, she was compelled to sub- 
 stitute regret that her own act had driven him from her in sorrow, 
 if not in desperation. It is not in the nature of youth, however, to 
 despair; and Frances knew a secret joy in the midst of their dis- 
 tress, that gave a new spring to her existence. 
 
 The sun broke forth, on the morning that succeeded this night of 
 desolation, in unclouded lustre, and seemed to mock the petty sor- 
 rows of those who received his rays. Lawton had early ordered his 
 steed, and was ready to mount as the first burst of light broke ever 
 
326 
 
 T HE SPY. 
 
 the hills. His orders were already given, and the trooper threw his 
 leg across the saddle, in silence ; and, casting a glance of fierce cha- 
 grin at the narrow space that had favoured the flight of the Skinner, 
 he gave Roanoke the rein, and moved slowly towards the valley. 
 
 The stillness of death pervaded the road, nor was there a single 
 vestige of the scenes of the night, to tarnish the loveliness of a glo- 
 rious morn. Struck with the contrast between man and nature, the 
 fearless trooper rode by each pass of danger, regardless of what might 
 happen ; nor did he rouse himself from his musing, until the noble 
 charger, snuffing the morning air, greeted the steeds of the guard 
 under Sergeant Hollister. 
 
 Here, indeed, was to be seen sad evidence of the midnight fray ; 
 but the trooper glanced his eye over it with the coolness of one ac- 
 customed to such sights. Without wasting the moments in useless 
 regrets, he proceeded, at once, to business — 
 
 “ Have you seen any thing ?” he demanded of the orderly. 
 
 “ Nothing, sir, that we dared to charge upon,” returned Hollister; 
 “but we mounted once, at the report of distant fire-arms.” 
 
 “’T is well,” said Lawton, gloomily. “Ah! Hollister, I would 
 give the animal I ride, to have had your single arm between the 
 wretch who drew that trigger and these useless rocks, which over- 
 hang every bit of ground, as if they grudged pasture to a single hoof.” 
 “ Under the light of day, and charging man to man, I am as good 
 as another : but I can’t say that I ’m over-fond of fighting with those 
 that neither steel nor lead can bring down.” 
 
 “ What silly crotchet is uppermost, now, in that mystified brain 
 of thine, Deacon Hollister?” 
 
 “ I like not the dark object that has been manoeuvring in the 
 skirt of the wood since the first dawn of day ; and twice, during the 
 night, it was seen marching across the fire-light, no doubt with evil 
 intent.” 
 
 “ Is it yon ball of black, at the foot of the rock-maple, that you 
 nean? In truth it moves.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 327 
 
 “But without mortal motion/* said the Sergeant, regarding it 
 with awful reverence : “ it glides along, hut no feet have been seen 
 by any who watch here.” 
 
 “ Had it wings,” cried Lawton, “ it is mine ; stand fast, until I 
 join.” The words were hardly uttered before Eoanoke was flying 
 across the plain, and apparently verifying the boast of his master. 
 
 “ Those cursed rocks !” ejaculated the trooper, as he saw the ob- 
 ject of his pursuit approaching the hill-side ; but, either from want 
 of practice or from terror, it passed the obvious shelter they offered, 
 and fled into the open plain. 
 
 “ I have you, man or devil !” shouted Lawton, whirling his sabre 
 from its scabbard. “ Halt, and take quarter !” 
 
 His proposition was apparently acceded to ; for, at the sound of 
 his powerful voice, the figure sunk upon the ground, exhibiting a 
 shapeless ball of black, without life or motion. 
 
 “ What have we here ?” cried Lawton, drawing up by its side ; 
 Y a gala suit of the good maiden, Jeanette Peyton, wandering around 
 its birth-place, or searching in vain for its discomfited mistress?” 
 He leaned forward in his stirrups, and placing the point of his sword 
 under the silken garment, by throwing aside the covering, discovered 
 part of the form of the reverend gentleman who had fled from the 
 Locusts, the evening before, in his robes of office. 
 
 “ In truth, Hollister had some ground for his alarm ; an army 
 chaplain is, at any time, a terror to a troop of horse.” 
 
 The clergyman had collected enough of his disturbed faculties, to 
 discover that it was a face he knew, and, somewhat disconcerted at 
 the terror he had manifested, and the indecent attitude in which he 
 had been found, he endeavoured to rise, and offer some explanation. 
 Lawton received his apologies good-humouredly, if not with much 
 faith in their truth; and, after a short communication upon the 
 state of the valley, the trooper courteously alighted, and they pro- 
 ceeded towards the guard. 
 
 “I am so little acquainted, sir, with the rebel uniform, that 1 
 
328 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 really was unable to distinguish, whether those men, whom you say 
 are your own, did or did not belong to the gang of marauders.” 
 
 “Apology, sir, is unnecessary,” replied the trooper, curling his 
 lip ; “ it is not your task, as a minister of God, to take note of the 
 facings of a coat. The standard under which you serve is acknow 
 ledged by us all.” 
 
 “ I serve under the standard of his gracious majesty George III.,” 
 returned the priest, wiping the cold sweat from his brow; “but 
 really the idea of being scalped has a strong tendency to unman a 
 new beginner, like myself.” 
 
 “ Scalped !” echoed Lawton, stopping short in his walk ; then 
 recollecting himself, he added, with composure, — “ If it is to Dun- 
 woodie’s squadron of Virginia light dragoons that you allude, it may 
 be well to inform you that they generally take a bit of the skull with 
 the skin.” 
 
 “ Oh ! I can have no apprehensions of gentlemen of your appear- 
 ance,” said the divine, with a smirk ; “ it is the natives that I appre- 
 hend.” 
 
 “ Natives ! I have the honour to be one, I do assure you, sir.” 
 
 “Nay, I beg that I may be understood — I mean the Indians; 
 they who do nothing but rob, and murder, and destroy.” 
 
 “And scalp !” 
 
 “Yes, sir, and scalp too,” continued the clergyman, eyeing his 
 companion a little suspiciously; “the copper-coloured, savage 
 Indians.” 
 
 “And did you expect to meet those nose-jewelled gentry in the 
 neutral ground?” 
 
 “Certainly; we understand in England that the interior swarms 
 with them.” 
 
 “And call you this the interior of America ?” cried Lawton, again 
 halting, and staring the other in the face, with a surprise too natu- 
 rally expressed to be counterfeited. 
 
 “ Surely ^ir, I conceive myself to be in the interior.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 329 
 
 “Attend/* said Lawton, pointing towards the east ; “ see you not 
 that broad sheet of water which the eye cannot compass ? thither lies 
 the England you deem worthy to hold dominion over half the world. 
 See you the land of your nativity?** 
 
 “*T is impossible to behold objects at a distance of three thousand 
 miles !** exclaimed the wondering priest, a little suspicious of his 
 companions sanity. 
 
 “ No ! what a pity it is that the powers of man are not equal to 
 his ambition. Now turn your eyes westward; observe that vast ex- 
 panse of water which rolls between the shores of America and China.** 
 
 “ I see nothing but land,** said the trembling priest ; “ there is 
 no water to be seen.** 
 
 “*Tis impossible to behold objects at a distance of three thousand 
 miles !** repeated Lawton, pursuing his walk : “ if you apprehend 
 the savages, seek them in the ranks of your prince. Rum and gold 
 have preserved their loyalty.** 
 
 “Nothing is more probable than my being deceived,** said the 
 man of peace, casting furtive glances at the colossal stature and 
 whiskered front of his companion; “but the rumours we have 
 at home, and the uncertainty of meeting with such an enemy as 
 yourself, induced me to fly at your approach.* 
 
 “*Twas not judiciously determined,** said the trooper, “as Roa- 
 noke has the heels of you greatly ; and flying from Scylla, you were 
 liable to encounter Chary bdis. Those woods and rocks cover the 
 very enemies you dread.** 
 
 “ The savages !** exclaimed the divine, instinctively placing the 
 trooper in the rear. 
 
 “ More than savages ; men who, under the guise of patriotism, 
 prowl through the community, with a thirst for plunder that is un- 
 satiable, and a love of cruelty that mocks the ingenuity of the Indian. 
 Fellows whose mouths are filled with liberty and equality, and whose 
 hearts are overflowing with cupidity and gall — gentlemen that are 
 yclep*d the Skinners.** 
 
330 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ I have heard them mentioned in our army,” said the frightened 
 divine, “ and had thought them to be the aborigines.” 
 
 “You did the savages injustice.” 
 
 They now approached the spot occupied by Hollister, who witness 
 ed with surprise the character of the prisoner made by his captain 
 Lawton gave his orders, and the men immediately commenced se- 
 curing and removing such articles of furniture as were thought worthy 
 of the trouble; and the captain, with his reverend associate, who 
 was mounted on a mettled horse, returned to the quarters of the 
 troop. 
 
 It was the wish of Singleton that the remains of his sister should 
 be conveyed to the post commanded by his father, and preparations 
 were early made to this effect. The wounded British were placed 
 under the control of the chaplain ; and towards the middle of the 
 day, Lawton saw all the arrangements so far completed, as to render 
 it probable that in a few hours he would be left, with his small 
 party ; in undisturbed possession of the Corners 
 
 While leaning in the door-way, gazing in moody silence at the 
 ground which had been the scene of the last night’s chase, his ear 
 caught the sound of a horse, and the next moment a dragoon of his 
 own troop appeared dashing up the road, as if on business of the last 
 importance. The steed was foaming, and the rider had the appear- 
 ance of having done a hard day’s service. Without speaking, he 
 placed a letter in the hand of Lawton, and led his charger to the 
 stable. The trooper knew the hand of the major, and ran his eye 
 over the following : — 
 
 “I rejoice it is the order of Washington, that the family of the 
 Locusts are to be removed above the Highlands. They are to be 
 admitted to the society of Captain Wharton, who waits only for their 
 testimony to be tried. You will communicate this order, and with 
 proper delicacy I do not doubt. The English are moving up the 
 river; and the moment you see the Whartons in safety, break up, 
 and join your troop. There will be good service to be done when 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 O') i 
 
 we meet, as Sir Henry is reported to have sent out a real soldier in 
 command. Reports must be made to the commandant at Peekskill, 
 for Colonel Singleton is withdrawn to head-quarters, to preside over 
 the inquiry upon poor Wharton. Fresh orders have been sent to 
 hang the pedler if we can take him, but they are not from the com- 
 mander-in-chief. — Detail a small guard with the ladies, and get into 
 the saddle as soon as possible. 
 
 “ Yours, sincerely, 
 
 “Peyton Dunwoodie.” 
 
 This communication entirely changed the whole arrangement. 
 There was no longer any motive for removing the body of Isabella, 
 since her father was no longer with his command, and Singleton re- 
 luctantly acquiesced in an immediate interment. A retired and 
 lovely spot was selected, near the foot of the adjacent rocks, and 
 such rude preparations were made as the time and the situation of 
 the country permitted. A few of the neighbouring inhabitants 
 collected from curiosity and interest, and Miss Peyton and Frances 
 wept in sincerity over her grave. The solemn offices of the church 
 were performed by the minister, who had so lately stood forth to 
 officiate in another and very different duty ; and Lawton bent his 
 head, and passed his hand across his brow, while the words that ac- 
 companied the first clod were uttered. 
 
 A new stimulus was given to the Whartons by the intelligence 
 conveyed in the letter of Dunw^oodie ; and Caesar, with his horses, 
 was once more put in requisition. The relics of the property were 
 entrusted to a neighbour, in whom they had confidence; and, ac- 
 companied by the unconscious Sarah, and attended by four dragoons 
 and all of the American wounded, Mr. Wharton’s party took their 
 departure. They were speedily followed by the English chaplain, 
 with his countrymen, who were conveyed to the water-side, where a 
 vessel was in waiting to receive them. Lawton joyfully witnessed 
 these movements; and as soon as the latter were out of sight, he 
 
332 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 ordered his own bugle to sound. Every thing was instantly in 
 motion. The mare of Mrs. Flanagan was again fastened to the cart ; 
 Dr. Sitgreaves exhibited his shapeless form once more on horseback • 
 and the trooper appeared in the saddle, rejoicing in his emancipation. 
 
 The word to march was given ; and Lawton, throwing a look of 
 sullen ferocity at the place of the Skinner’s concealment, and an- 
 other of melancholy regret towards the grave of Isabella, led the 
 way, accompanied by the surgeon in a brown study ; while Sergeant 
 Hollister and Betty brought up the rear, leaving a fresh southerly 
 wind to whistle through the open doors and broken windows of the 
 “ Hotel Flanagan,” where the laugh of hilarity, the joke of the 
 hardy partisan, and the lamentations of the sorrowing, had so lately 
 echoed. 
 
CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, 
 
 But winter, lingering-, chills the lap of May; 
 
 No zephyr fondly sues the mountain’s breast, 
 
 But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 The roads of West-Chester are, at this hour, below the improve- 
 ments of the country. Their condition at the time of the tale has 
 already been alluded to in these pages ; and the reader will, there- 
 fore, easily imagine the task assumed by Caesar, when he undertook 
 to guide the translated chariot of the English prelate through their 
 windings, into one of the less frequented passes of the Highlands of 
 the Hudson. 
 
 While Caesar and his steeds were contending with these difficul- 
 ties, the inmates of the carriage were too much engrossed with their 
 own cares to attend to those who served them. The mind of Sarah 
 had ceased to wander so wildly as at first • but at every advance that 
 she made towards reason, she seemed to retire a step from anima- 
 tion • from being excited and flighty, she was gradually becoming 
 moody and melancholy. There were moments, indeed, when her 
 anxious companions thought that they could discern marks of recol- 
 lection * but the expression of exquisite woe that accompanied these 
 transient gleams of reason, forced them to the dreadful alternative 
 of wishing that she might for ever be spared the agony of thought. 
 The day's march was performed chiefly in silence, and the party 
 found shelter for the night in different farm-houses. 
 
 The following morning the cavalcade dispersed. The wounded 
 
334 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 diverged towards the river, with the intention of taking water at 
 Peekskill, in order to be transported to the hospitals of the American 
 army above. The litter of Singleton was conveyed to a part of the 
 Highlands where his father held his quarters, and where it was in- 
 tended that the youth should complete his cure ; the carriage of Mr. 
 Wharton, accompanied by a waggon conveying the housekeeper and 
 what baggage had been saved, and could be transported, resumed its 
 route towards the place where Henry Wharton was held in duresse, 
 and where he only waited their arrival to be put on trial for his life. 
 
 The country which lies between the waters of the Hudson and 
 Long-Island Sound, is, for the first forty miles from their junction, a 
 succession of hills and dales. The land bordering on the latter then 
 becomes less abrupt, and gradually assumes a milder appearance, 
 until it finally melts into the lovely plains and meadows of the Con- 
 necticut. But as you approach the Hudson, the rugged aspect in- 
 creases, until you at length meet with the formidable barrier of the 
 Highlands. Here the Neutral Ground ceased. The royal army 
 held the two points of land that commanded the southern entrance 
 of the river into the mountains ; but all the remaining passes were 
 guarded by the Americans. 
 
 We have already stated that the pickets of the continental army 
 were sometimes pushed low into the country, and that the hamlet of 
 the White Plains was occasionally maintained by parties of its troops. 
 At other times, the advanced guards were withdrawn to the northern 
 extremity of the county, and, as has been shown, the intermediate 
 country was abandoned to the ravages of the miscreants who plun- 
 dered between both armies, serving neither. 
 
 The road taken by our party was not the one that communicates 
 between the two principal cities of the state, but was a retired and 
 unfrequented pass, that to this hour is but little known, and which 
 entering the hills near the eastern boundary, emerges into the plain 
 above, many miles from the Hudson. 
 
 It would have been impossible for the tired steeds of Mr. Whar- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 335 
 
 ton to drag the heavy chariot up the lengthened and steep ascents 
 which now lay before them ; and a pair of country horses were pro- 
 cured, with but little regard to their owner’s wishes, by the two 
 dragoons who still continued to accompany the party. With their 
 assistance, Caesar was enabled to advance, by slow and toilsome 
 steps, into the bosom of the hills. Willing to relieve her own me- 
 lancholy by breathing a fresher air, and also to lessen the weight, 
 Frances alighted as they reached the foot of the mountain. She 
 found that Katy had made similar preparations, with the like inten- 
 tion of walking to the summit. It was near the setting of the sun, 
 and, from the top of the mountain, their guard had declared that the 
 end of their journey might be discerned. Frances moved forward 
 with the elastic step of youth ; and, followed by the housekeeper at 
 a little distance, she soon lost sight of the sluggish carriage, that 
 was slowly toiling up the hill, occasionally halting to allow the cattle 
 to breathe. 
 
 “ Oh, Miss Fanny, what dreadful times these be 1” said Katy, 
 when they paused for breath themselves ; “ I know’d that calamity 
 was about to befall, ever sin’ the streak of blood was seen in the 
 clouds.” 
 
 “ There has been blood upon earth, Katy, though but little is 
 ever seen in the clouds.” 
 
 “Not blood in the clouds!” echoed the housekeeper; “yes, that 
 there has, often, and comets with fiery, smoking tails. Did n’t peo- 
 ple see armed men in the heavens, the year the war begun ? and, 
 the night before the battle of the Plains, was n’t there thunder, like 
 the cannon themselves ? — Ah ! Miss Fanny, I ’in fearful that no 
 good can follow rebellion against the Lord’s anointed !” 
 
 “ These events are certainly dreadful,” returned Frances, “ and 
 enough to sicken the stoutest heart. But what can be done, Katy ? 
 — Gallant and independent men are unwilling to submit to oppres- 
 sion ; and I am fearful that such scenes are but too common in war.” 
 
 “If 1 could but see any thing to fight about,” said Katy, renew 
 
336 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 mg her walk as the young lady proceeded, “ I should n’t mind it so 
 much. 'T was said the king wanted all the tea for his own family, 
 at one time ; and then again, that he meant the colonies should pay 
 over to him all their earnings. Now this is matter enough to fight 
 about — for I 'm sure that no one, however he may he lord or king, 
 has a right to the hard earnings of another. Then it was all contra- 
 dicted, and some said Washington wanted to be king himself; so 
 that, between the two, one doesn't know which to believe." 
 
 “ Believe neither — for neither is true. I do not pretend to un- 
 derstand, myself, all the merits of this war, Katy; but to me it. 
 seems unnatural, that a country like this should be ruled by another 
 so distant as England." 
 
 u So I have heard Harvey say to his father, that is dead and in 
 his grave," returned Katy, approaching nearer to the young lady, 
 and lowering her voice. “ Many is the good time that I 've listened 
 to them talking, when all the neighbourhood was asleep ; and such, 
 conversations, Miss Fanny, that you can have no idea on! — -Well, 
 to say the truth, Harvey was a mystified body, and he was like the 
 winds in the good book ; no one could tell whence he came, or whi- 
 ther he went." 
 
 Frances glanced her eye at her companion with an apparent desire 
 to hear more. 
 
 u There are rumours abroad relative to the character of Harvey," 
 she said, u that I should be sorry were true." 
 
 “ 'T is a disparagement, every word on 't," cried Katy, vehemently ; 
 u Harvey had no more dealings with Belzebub than you or I had. 
 I 'm sure if Harvey had sold himself, he would take care to be bet- 
 ter paid ; though, to speak the truth, he was always a wasteful and 
 disregardful man." 
 
 “ Nay, nay," returned the smiling Frances, u I have no such in- 
 jurious suspicion of him ; but has he not sold himself to an earthly 
 prince — one too much attached to the interests of his native island 
 to be always just to this country ?" 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 837 
 
 u To the king’s majesty !” replied Katy. u Why, Miss Fanny, 
 your own brother that is in gaol serves King George .” 
 
 True,” said Frances, u but not in secret — openly, manfully, and 
 bravely.” 
 
 “’Tis said he is a spy, and why an’tmie spy as bad as another?” 
 
 “’Tis untrue; no act of deception is worthy of my brother; nor 
 of any would he be guilty, for so base a purpose as gain, or promo- 
 tion.” 
 
 “ Well, I’m sure,” said Katy, a little appalled at the manner of 
 the young lady, “ if a body does the work, he should be paid for it. 
 Harvey is by no means partic’lar about getting his lawful dues ; and 
 I dar’st to say, if the truth was forthcoming, King George owes him 
 money this very minute.” 
 
 u Then you acknowledge his connexion with the British army,” 
 said Frances ; u I confess there have been moments when I have 
 thought differently.” 
 
 u Lord, Miss Fanny, Harvey is a man that no calculation can be 
 made on. Though I lived in his house for a long concourse of years, 
 I have never known whether he belonged above or below.* The 
 time that Burg’yne was taken, he came home, and there was great 
 doings between him and the old gentleman, but for the life I couldn’t 
 tell if ’twas joy or grief. Then, here, the other day, when the great 
 British general — I’m sure I have been so flurried with losses and 
 troubles, that I forget his name — ” 
 
 “ Andre,” said Frances. 
 
 u Yes, Ondree ; when he was hanged, acrost the Tappaan, the old 
 gentleman was near hand to going crazy about it, and didn’t sleep 
 for night nor day, till Harvey got back ; and then his money was 
 mostly golden guineas ; but the Skinners took it all, and now he is 
 
 * The American party was called the party belonging “ above,” and the 
 British that of “ below.” The terms had reference to the course of the 
 Hudson. 
 
 15 
 
338 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 a beggar, or, what's the same thing, despisable for poverty and 
 want." 
 
 To this speech Frances made no reply, but continued her walk up 
 the hill, deeply engaged in her own reflections. The allusion to 
 Andre had recalled her thoughts to the situation of her own bro- 
 ther. 
 
 They soon reached the highest point in their toilsome progress 
 to the summit, and Frances seated herself on a rock to rest and to 
 admire. Immediately at her feet lay a deep dell, but little altered 
 by cultivation, and dark with the gloom of a November sunset. 
 Another hill rose opposite to the place where she sat, at no great 
 distance, along whose rugged sides nothing was to be seen but shape- 
 less rocks, and oaks whose stinted growth showed a meagre soil. 
 
 To be seen in their perfection, the Highlands must be passed im- 
 mediately after the fall of the leaf. The scene is then the finest, for 
 neither the scanty foliage which the summer lends the trees, nor the 
 snows of winter, are present to conceal the minutest objects from the 
 eye. Chilling solitude is the characteristic of the scenery ; nor is 
 the mind at liberty, as in March, to look forward to a renewed vege- 
 tation that is soon to check, without improving, the view. 
 
 The day had been cloudy and cool, and thin fleecy clouds hung 
 around the horizon, often promising to disperse, but as frequently 
 disappointing Frances in the hope of catching a parting beam from 
 the setting sun. At length a solitary gleam struck on the base of 
 the mountain on which she was gazing, and moved gracefully up its 
 side, until, reaching the summit, it stood for a minute, forming a 
 crown of glory to the sombre pile. So strong were the rays, that 
 what was before indistinct now clearly opened to the view. With a 
 feeling of awe at being thus unexpectedly admitted, as it were, into 
 the secrets of that desert place, Frances gazed intently, until, among 
 the scattered trees and fantastic rocks, something like a rude struc- 
 ture was seen. It was low, and so obscured by the colour of its 
 materials, that but for its roof, and the glittering of a window, it 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 339 
 
 must have escaped her notice. While yet lost in the astonishment 
 created by discovering a habitation in such a spot, on moving her 
 eyes she perceived another object that increased her wonder. It 
 apparently was a human figure, but of singular mould and unusual 
 deformity. It stood on the edge of a rock, a little above the hut, 
 and it was no difficult task for our heroine to fancy it was gazing at 
 the vehicles that were ascending the side of the mountain beneath 
 her. The distance, however, was too great to distinguish with pre- 
 cision. After looking at it a moment in breathless wonder,' Frances 
 had just come to the conclusion that it was ideal, and that what she 
 saw was a part of the rock itself, when the object moved swiftly from 
 its position, and glided into the hut, at once removing every doubt as 
 to the nature of either. Whether it was owing to the recent conver- 
 sation that she had been holding with Katy, or to some fancied re- 
 semblance that she discerned, Frances thought, as the figure vanished 
 from her view, that it bore a marked likeness to Birch, moving under 
 the weight of his pack. She continued to gaze towards the myste- 
 rious residence, when the gleam of light passed away, and at the 
 same instant the tones of a bugle rang through the glens and hoi 
 lows, and were re-echoed in every direction. Springing on her feet, 
 the alarmed girl heard the trampling of horses, and directly a party 
 in the well-known uniform of the Virginians came sweeping round 
 the point of a rock near her, and drew up at a short distance. Again 
 the bugle sounded a lively strain, and before the agitated Frances 
 had time to rally her thoughts, Dunwoodie dashed by the party of 
 dragoons, threw himself from his charger, and advanced to her side. 
 
 His manner was earnest and interested, but in a slight degree 
 constrained. In a few words he explained that he had been ordered 
 up, with a party of Lawton’s men, in the absence of the Captain 
 himself, to attend the trial of Henry, which was fixed for the mor- 
 row ; and that, anxious for their safety in the rude passes of the 
 mountain, he had ridden a mile or two in quest of the travellers. 
 Frances explained, with trembling voice, the reason of her being in 
 
340 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 advance, and taught him momentarily to expect the arrival of hei 
 father. The constraint of his manner had, however, unwillingly on 
 her part, communicated itself to her own deportment, and the 
 approach of the chariot was a relief to both. The Major handed 
 her in, spoke a few words of encouragement to Mr. Wharton and 
 Miss Peyton, and again mounting, led the way towards the plains 
 of Fishkill, which broke on their sight, on turning the rock, with the 
 effect of enchantment. A short half-hour brought them to the door 
 of the farm-house, which the care of Dunwoodie had already pre- 
 pared for their reception, and where Captain Wharton was anxiously 
 expecting their arrival. 
 
CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 These limbs are strengthen’d with a soldier’s toil, 
 
 Nor has this cheek been ever blanch’d with feai — 
 
 But this sad tale of thine enervates all 
 Within me that I once could boast as man ; 
 
 Chill trembling agues seize upon my frame, 
 
 And tears of childish sorrow pour, apace, 
 
 Through scarred channels that were mark’d by wounds. 
 
 Duo. 
 
 The friends of Henry Wharton had placed so much reliance on his 
 innocence, that they were unable to see the full danger of his situa- 
 tion. As the moment of trial, however, approached, the uneasiness 
 of the youth himself increased ; and after spending most of the night 
 with his afflicted family, he awoke, on the following morning, from 
 a short and disturbed slumber, to a clearer sense of his condition, 
 and a survey of the means that were to extricate him from it with 
 life. The rank of Andre, and the importance of the measures he 
 was plotting, together with the powerful intercessions that had been 
 made in his behalf, occasioned his execution to be stamped with 
 greater notoriety than the ordinary events of the war. But spies 
 were frequently arrested ; and the instances that occurred of sum- 
 mary punishment for this crime were numerous. These were facts 
 that were well known to both Dunwoodie and the prisoner; and to 
 their experienced judgments the preparations for the trial were 
 indeed alarming. Notwithstanding their apprehensions, they suc- 
 ceeded so far in concealing them, that neither Miss Peyton nor 
 Frances was aware of their extent. A strong guard was stationed 
 in the out-building of the farm-house where the prisoner was quar- 
 
342 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 tered, and several sentinels watched the avenues that approached the 
 dwelling. Another was constantly near the room of the British 
 officer. A court was already detailed to examine into the cir di- 
 stances ; and upon their decision the fate of Henry rested. 
 
 The moment at length arrived, and the different actors in the 
 approaching investigation assembled. Frances experienced a feeling 
 like suffocation, as, after taking her seat in the midst of her family, 
 her eyes wandered over the group who were thus collected. The 
 judges, three in number, sat by themselves, clad in the vestments 
 of their profession, and maintained a gravity worthy of the occasion, 
 and becoming in their rank. In the centre was a man of advanced 
 years, and whose whole exterior bore the stamp of early and long- 
 tried military habits. This was the president of the court; and 
 Frances, after taking a hasty and unsatisfactory view of his associates, 
 turned to his benevolent countenance as to the harbinger of mercy 
 to her brother. There was a melting and subdued expression in the 
 features of the veteran, that, contrasted with the rigid decency and 
 composure of the others, could not fail to attract her notice. His 
 attire was strictly in conformity to the prescribed rules of the ser- 
 vice to which he belonged ; but while his hair was erect and military, 
 his fingers trifled, with a kind of convulsive and unconscious motion, 
 with a bit of crape that entwined the hilt of the sword on which his 
 body partly reclined, and which, like himself, seemed a relic of older 
 times. There were the workings of an unquiet soul within ; but his 
 military front blended awe with the pity that its exhibition excited. 
 His associates were officers selected from the eastern troops, who held 
 the fortresses of West Point and the adjacent passes; they were men 
 who had attained the meridian of life, and the eye sought in vain 
 the expression of any passion or emotion on which it might seize as 
 an indication of human infirmity. In their demeanour, there was a 
 mild, but a grave, intellectual reserve. If there was no ferocity nor 
 harshness to chill, neither was there compassion nor interest to 
 attract. They were men who had long acted under the dominion 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 343 
 
 of a prudent reason, and whose feelings seemed trained to a perfect 
 submission to their judgments. 
 
 Before these arbiters of his fate Henry Wharton was ushered, 
 under the custody of armed men. A profound and awful silence 
 succeeded his entrance, and the blood of Frances chilled as she 
 noted the grave character of the whole proceedings. There was but 
 little of pomp in the preparations, to impress her imagination ; but 
 the reserved, business-like air of the whole scene made it seem, in- 
 deed, as if the destinies of life awaited the result Two of the judges 
 sat in grave reserve, fixing their inquiring eyes on the object of their 
 investigation; but the president continued gazing around with uneas} r , 
 convulsive motions of the muscles of the face, that indicated a rest- 
 lessness, foreign to his years and duty. It was Colonel Singleton, 
 who, but the day before, had learned the fate of Isabella, but who 
 stood forth in the discharge of a duty that his country required at 
 his hands. The silence, and the expectation in every eye, at length 
 struck him, and making an effort to collect himself, he spoke, in the 
 tones of one used to authority. 
 
 “ Bring forth the prisoner,” he said, with a wave of the 
 hand. 
 
 The sentinels dropped the points of their bayonets towards the 
 judges, and Henry Wharton advanced, with a firm step, into the 
 centre of the apartment. All was now anxiety and eager curiosity. 
 Frances turned for a moment in grateful emotion, as the deep and 
 perturbed breathing of Dunwoodie reached her ears ; but her bro- 
 ther again concentrated all her interest in one feeling of intense care. 
 In the back-ground were arranged the inmates of the family who 
 owned the dwelling, and behind them, again, was a row of shining 
 faces of ebony, glistening with pleased wonder. Amongst these was 
 the faded lustre of Caesar Thompson’s countenance. 
 
 “ You are said,” continued the president, u to be Henry Wharton, 
 a captain in his Britannic majesty’s 60th regiment of foot.” 
 
 “ I am.” 
 
344 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ I like your candour, sir ; it partakes of the honourable feelings 
 of a soldier, and cannot fail to impress your judges favourably.” 
 
 “ It would be prudent,” said one of his companions, “ to advise 
 the prisoner that he is bound to answer no more than he deems ne- 
 cessary : although we are a court of martial law, yet, in this respect, 
 we own the principles of all free governments.” 
 
 A nod of approbation from the silent member was bestowed on 
 this remark, and the president proceeded with caution, referring to 
 the minutes he held in his hand. 
 
 “It is an accusation against you, that, being an officer of the 
 enemy, you passed the pickets of the American army at the White 
 Plains, in disguise, on the 29th of October last, whereby you are 
 suspected of views hostile to the interests of America, and have 
 subjected yourself to the punishment of a spy.” 
 
 The mild, but steady tones of the speaker, as he slowly repeated 
 the substance of this charge, were full of authority. The accusation 
 was so plain, the facts so limited, the proof so obvious, and the 
 penalty so well established, that escape seemed impossible. But 
 Henry replied, with earnest grace — 
 
 “That I passed your pickets in disguise, is true; but — ” 
 “Peace!” interrupted the president; “the usages of war are 
 stern enough in themselves ; you need not aid them to your own 
 condemnation.” 
 
 “ The prisoner can retract that declaration, if he please,” remark- 
 ed another judge. “ His confession, if taken, goes fully to prove 
 the charge.” 
 
 “ I retract nothing that is true,” said Henry, proudly. 
 
 The two nameless judges heard him in silent composure, yet there 
 was no exultation mingled with their gravity. The president now 
 appeared, however, to take new interest in the scene. 
 
 “Your sentiment is noble, sir,” he said; “I only regret that a 
 youthful soldier should so far be misled by loyalty as to lend him- 
 self to the purposes of deceit.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 345 
 
 “ Deceit !” echoed Wharton ; “ I thought it prudent to guard 
 against capture from my enemies.” 
 
 “ A soldier, Captain Wharton, should never meet his enemy but 
 openly, and with arms in his hands. 1 have served two kings of 
 England, as I now serve my native land; but never did I approach 
 a foe, unless under the light of the sun, and with honest notice that 
 an enemy was nigh.” 
 
 “ You are at liberty to explain what your motives were in entering 
 the ground held by our army in disguise,” said the other judge, with 
 a slight movement of the muscles of his mouth. 
 
 “ I am the son of this aged man before you,” continued Henry. 
 “ It was to visit him that I encountered the danger. Besides, the 
 country below is seldom held by your troops, and its very name 
 implies a right to either party to move at pleasure over its terri- 
 tory.” 
 
 “ Its name, as a neutral ground, is unauthorised by law ; it is an 
 appellation that originates with the condition of the country. But 
 wherever an army goes, it carries its rights along, and the first is, 
 the ability to protect itself. 
 
 “ I am no casuist, sir,” returned the youth; “ but I feel that my 
 father is entitled to my affection, and I would encounter greater 
 risks to prove it to him in his old age.” 
 
 “ A very commendable spirit,” cried the veteran ; “ come, gentle- 
 men, this business brightens. I confess, at first, it was very bad , 
 but no man can censure him for desiring to see his parents.” 
 
 “ And have you proof that such only was your intention ?” 
 
 “Yes — here,” said Henry, admitting a ray of hope; “here is 
 proof — my father, my sister, Major Dunwoodie, all know it.” 
 
 “ Then, indeed,” returned his immovable judge, “ we may be able 
 to save you. It would be well, sir, to examine further into this 
 business.” 
 
 “ Certainly,” said the president, with alacrity; “ let the elder Mr. 
 Wharton approach and take the oath.” 
 
 * 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 *46 
 
 The father made an effort at composure, and, advancing with a 
 feeble step, he complied with the necessary forms of the court. 
 
 “ You are the father of the prisoner ?” said Colonel Singleton, in 
 a subdued voice, after pausing a moment in respect for the agitation 
 of the witness. 
 
 “ He is my only son.” 
 
 “ And what do you know of his visit to your house, on the 29th 
 day of October last ?” 
 
 “ He came, as he told you. to see me and his sisters.” 
 
 “Was he in disguise?” asked the other judge. 
 
 “He did not wear the uniform of the 60th.” 
 
 “ To see his sisters, too !” said the president with great emotion. 
 “Have you daughters, sir?” 
 
 “I have two — both are in this house.” 
 
 “Had he a wig?” interrupted the officer. 
 
 “ There was some such thing, I do believe, upon his head.” 
 
 “ And how long had you been separated ?” asked the president. 
 
 “ One year and two months.” 
 
 “ Hid he wear a loose great-coat of coarse materials ?” inquired 
 the officer, referring to the paper that contained the charges. 
 
 “ There was an over-coat.” 
 
 “ And you think that it was to see you, only, that he came out ?” 
 “Me, and my daughters.” 
 
 “ A boy of spirit,” whispered the president to his silent comrade. 
 “ I see but little harm in such a freak ; 'twas imprudent, but then it 
 •vas kind.” 
 
 “ Ho you know that your son was intrusted with no commission 
 from Sir Henry Clinton, and that the visit to you was not merely a 
 cloak to other designs?” 
 
 “ How can I know it ?” said Mr. Wharton, in alarm ) “ would Sir 
 Henry intrust me with such a business ?” 
 
 “ Know you any thing of this pass ?” exhibiting the paper that 
 Hunwoodie had retained when Wharton was taken. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 347 
 
 “ Nothing — upon my honour, nothing/’ cried the father shrink- 
 ing from the paper as from contagion. 
 
 “On your oath?” 
 
 “ Nothing.” 
 
 “ Have you other testimony ? — this does not avail you, Captain 
 Wharton. You have been taken in a situation where your life is 
 forfeited ; the labour of proving your innocence rests with yourself. 
 Take time to reflect, and be cool.” 
 
 There was a frightful calmness in the manner of this judge that 
 appalled the prisoner. In the sympathy of Colonel Singleton, he 
 could easily lose sight of his danger ; but the obdurate and collected 
 air of the others was ominous of his fate. He continued silent, cast- 
 ing imploring glances towards his friend. Dunwoodie understood the 
 appeal, and offered himself as a witness. He was sworn, and desired 
 to relate what he knew. His statement did not materially alter the 
 case, and Dunwoodie felt that it could not. To him personally but 
 little was known, and that little rather militated against the safety 
 of Henry than otherwise. His account was listened to in silence, 
 and the significant shake of the head that was made by the sile i . 
 member spoke too plainly what effect it had produced. 
 
 “ Still you think that the prisoner had no other object than what 
 he has avowed ?” said the president, when he had ended. 
 
 “None other, I will pledge my life,” cried the major, with fervour. 
 
 “ Will you swear it ?” asked the immovable judge. 
 
 “ How can I ? God alone can tell the heart ; but I have known 
 this gentleman from a boy ; deceit never formed part of his character. 
 He is above it.” 
 
 “ You say that he escaped, and was retaken in open arms ?” said 
 the president. 
 
 “ He was; nay, he received a wound in the combat. You see he 
 yet moves his arm with difficulty. Would he, think you, sir, have 
 trusted himself where he could fall again into our hands, unless con- 
 rcious of innocence?” 
 
348 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 “ Would Andre have deserted a field of battle, Major Dunwoodie, 
 had he encountered such an event, near Tarrytown ?” asked his deli- 
 berate examiner. “ Is it not natural to youth to seek glory ?” 
 
 “ Do you call this glory ?” exclaimed the major; “ an ignomini- 
 ous death, and a tarnished name.” 
 
 “ Major Dunwoodie,” returned the other, still with inveterate 
 gravity, “ you have acted nobly ; your duty has been arduous and 
 severe, but it has been faithfully and honourably discharged ; ours 
 must not be less so.” 
 
 During the examination, the most intense interest prevailed among 
 the hearers. With that kind of feeling which could not separate the 
 principle from the cause, most of the auditors thought that if Dun- 
 woodie failed to move the hearts of Henry’s judges, no other pos- 
 sessed the power. Caesar thrust his misshapen form forward ; and 
 his features, so expressive of the concern he felt, and so different 
 from the vacant curiosity pictured in the countenances of the other 
 blacks, caught the attention of the silent judge. For the first time 
 he spoke — 
 
 “Let that black be brought forward.” 
 
 It was too late to retreat, and Caesar found himself confronted 
 with a row of rebel officers, before he knew what was uppermost in 
 his thoughts. The others yielded the examination to the one who 
 suggested it, and using all due deliberation, he proceeded accordingly. 
 
 “Yoju know the prisoner?” 
 
 “ I tink he ought,” returned the black, in a manner as sententious 
 as that of his examiner. 
 
 “ Did he give you the wig, when he threw it aside ?” 
 
 “ I don’t want ’em,” grumbled Caesar ; “ got a berry good hair 
 he’ self.” 
 
 “Were you employed in carrying any letters or messages while 
 Captain Wharton was in your master’s house ?’’ 
 
 “ I do what a tell me,” returned the black. 
 
 “But what did they tell you to do?” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 349 
 
 “Sometime a one ting — sometime anoder.” 
 
 “ Enough,” said Colonel Singleton, with dignity ; “ you have the 
 noble acknowledgment of a gentleman, what more can you obtain 
 from this slave ? Captain Wharton, you perceive the unfortunate im- 
 pression against you. Have you other testimony to adduce ?” 
 
 To Henry there now remained but little hope ; his confidence in 
 his security was fast ebbing, but with an indefinite expectation of 
 assistance from the loveliness of his sister, he fixed an earnest gaze 
 on the pallid features of Frances. She arose, and with a tottering 
 step moved towards the judges ; the paleness of her cheek continued 
 but for a moment, and gave place to a flush of fire, and with a light, 
 but firm tread, she stood before them. Raising her hand to her 
 polished forehead, Frances threw aside her exuberant locks, and dis- 
 played a picture of beauty and innocence to their view that might 
 have moved even sterner natures. The president shrouded his eyes 
 for a moment, as if the wild eye and speaking countenance recalled 
 the image of another. The movement was transient, and recover- 
 ing himself, he said, with an earnestness that betrayed his secret 
 wishes — 
 
 “ To you, then, your brother previously communicated his inten- 
 tion of paying your family a secret visit ?” 
 
 “No ! — no !” said Frances, pressing her hand on her brain, as if 
 to collect her thoughts ; “ he told me nothing — we knew not of the 
 visit until he arrived ; but can it be necessary to explain to gallant 
 men, that a child would incur hazard to meet his only parent, and 
 that in times like these, and in a situation like ours ?” 
 
 “ But was this the first time ? Hid he never even talk of doing so 
 before?” enquired the colonel leaning towards her with paternal 
 interest. 
 
 “ Certainly — certainly,” cried Frances, catching the expression 
 of his own benevolent countenance. “ This is but the fourth of his 
 visits.” 
 
 “ I knew it !” exclaimed the veteran, rubbing his hands with dc- 
 
850 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 light • “ an adventurous, warm-hearted son — I warrant me, gentle 
 men, a fiery soldier in the field ! In what disguises did he come ?” 
 u In none, for none were then necessary ; the royal troops covered 
 the country, and gave him safe passage.” 
 
 “And was this the first of his visits out of the uniform of hi3 
 regiment ?” asked the colonel, in a suppressed voice, avoiding the 
 penetrating looks of his companions. 
 
 “ Oh ! the very first,” exclaimed the eager girl ; u his first offence, 
 I do assure you, if offence it be.” 
 
 “ But you wrote him — you urged the visit • surely, young lady, 
 you wished to see your brother ?” added the impatient colonel. 
 
 “ That we wished it, and prayed for it, — oh, how fervently we 
 prayed for it! — is true; but to have held communion with the 
 royal army would have endangered our father, and we dared not.” 
 
 “ Did he leave the house until taken, or had he intercourse with 
 any out of your own dwelling?” 
 
 “With none — no one, excepting our neighbour, the pedlei 
 Birch.” 
 
 “ With whom ?” exclaimed the colonel, turning pale, and shrink- 
 ing as from the sting of an adder. 
 
 Dunwoodie groaned aloud, and striking his head with his hand, 
 cried, in piercing tones, “ He is lost !” and rushed from the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 “ But Harvey Birch,” repeated Frances, gazing wildly at the door 
 through which her lover had disappeared. 
 
 “ Harvey Birch !” echoed all the judges. The two immovable 
 members of the court exchanged looks, and threw an inquisitive 
 glance at their prisoner. 
 
 “ To you, gentlemen, it can be no new intelligence to hear that 
 Harvey Birch is suspected of favouring the royal cause,” said Henry, 
 again advancing before the judges ; “ for he has already been con- 
 demned by your tribunals to the fate that I now see awaits myself. 
 I will therefore explain, that it was by his assistance I procured the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 351 
 
 disguise, and passed your pickets; but to my dying moment, and 
 with my dying breath, I will avow, that my intentions were as pure 
 as the innocent being before you.” 
 
 “ Captain Wharton,” said the president, solemnly, “ the enemies 
 of American liberty have made mighty and subtle efforts to over- 
 throw our power. A more dangerous man, for his means and edu- 
 cation, is not ranked among our foes than this pedler of West-Ches- 
 ter. He is a spy — artful, delusive, and penetrating, beyond the 
 abilities of any of his class. Sir Henry could not do better than to 
 associate him with the officer in his next attempt. He would have 
 saved Andre. Indeed, young man, this is a connection that may 
 prove fatal to you !” 
 
 The honest indignation that beamed on the countenance of the 
 aged warrior, was met by a look of perfect conviction on the part of 
 his comrades. 
 
 “ I have ruined him !” cried Frances, clasping her hands in ter- 
 ror ; “ do you desert us ? then he is lost, indeed !” 
 
 “ Forbear ! — lovely innocent — forbear !” said the colonel, with 
 strong emotion; “you injure none, but distress us all.” 
 
 “ Is it then such a crime to possess natural affection ?” said Fran- 
 ces, wildly; “would Washington — the noble, upright, impartial 
 Washington, judge so harshly? delay, till Washington can hear his 
 tale.” 
 
 “ It is impossible,” said the president, covering his eyes, as if to 
 hide her beauty from his view. 
 
 “ Impossible ! oh ! but for a week suspend your judgment. On 
 my knees I entreat you, as you will expect mercy yourself, when no 
 human power can avail you, give him but a day.” 
 
 “ It is impossible,” repeated the colonel, in a voice that w T as nearly 
 choked ; “ our orders are peremptory, and too long delay has been 
 given already.” 
 
 He turned from the kneeling suppliant, but could not, or would 
 not, extricate the hand that she grasped with frenzied fervour. 
 
352 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ Remand your prisoner/’ said one of the judges to the officer 
 who had the charge of Henry “ Colonel Singleton, shall we 
 withdraw V ’ 
 
 “ Singleton ! Singleton !” echoed Frances ; “ then you are a 
 father, and know how to pity a father’s woes : you cannot, will not, 
 wound a heart that is now nearly crushed. Hear me, Colonel Sin- 
 gleton ; as God will listen to your dying prayers, hear me, and spare 
 my brother !” 
 
 “ Remove her,” said the colonel, gently endeavouring to extricate 
 his hand; but none appeared disposed to obey. Frances eagerly 
 strove to read the expression of his averted face, and resisted all his 
 efforts to retire. 
 
 “ Colonel Singleton ! how lately was your own son in suffering 
 and in danger ! under the roof of my father he was cherished — under 
 my father’s roof he found shelter and protection. Oh ! suppose that 
 son the pride of your age, the solace and protection of your infant 
 children, and then pronounce my brother guilty, if you dare !” 
 
 “ What right has Heath to make an executioner of me !” ex- 
 claimed the veteran fiercely, rising with a face flushed like fire, and 
 every vein and artery swollen with suppressed emotion. “ But I 
 forget myself; come, gentlemen, let us mount; our painful duty 
 must be done.” 
 
 “ Mount not ! go not !” shrieked Frances ; “ can you tear a son 
 Prom his parent ? a brother from his sister, so coldly ? Is this the 
 cause I have so ardently loved ? Are these the men that I have 
 been taught to reverence ? But you relent, you do hear me, you 
 will pity and forgive.” 
 
 “Lead on, gentlemen,” said the colonel, motioning towards the 
 door, and erecting himself into an air of military grandeur, in the 
 vain hope of quieting his feelings. 
 
 “ Lead not on, but hear me,” cried Frances, grasping his hand 
 convulsively ; “ Colonel Singleton, you are a father ! — pity — mercy 
 — mercy for the son ! mercy for the daughter! Yes — you had a 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 353 
 
 daughter. On this bosom she poured out her last breath; these 
 hands closed her eyes ; these very hands, that are now clasped in 
 prayer, did those offices for her that you condemn my poor, poor 
 brother, to require.” 
 
 One mighty emotion the veteran struggled with, and quelled ; but 
 with a groan that shook his whole frame. He even looked around 
 in conscious pride at his victory ; but a second burst of feeling con- 
 quered. His head, white with the frost of seventy winters, sunk 
 upon the shoulder of the frantic suppliant. The sword that had 
 been his companion in so many fields of blood dropped from hi3 
 nerveless hand, and as he cried — 
 
 “ May God bless you for the deed !” he wept aloud. 
 
 Long and violent was the indulgence that Colonel Singleton 
 yielded to his feelings. On recovering, he gave the senseless Fran- 
 ces into the arms of her aunt, and, turning with an air of fortitude 
 to his comrades, he said — 
 
 u Still, gentlemen, we have our duty as officers to discharge ; — 
 our feelings as men may be indulged hereafter. What is your plea- 
 sure with the prisoner?” 
 
 One of the judges placed in his hand a written sentence, that he 
 had prepared while the colonel was engaged with Frances, and de- 
 clared it to be the opinion of himself and his companion. 
 
 It briefly stated that Henry Wharton had been detected in passing 
 the lines of the American army as a spy, and in disguise. That 
 thereby, according to the laws of war, he was liable to suffer death, 
 and that this court adjudged him to the penalty ; recommending him 
 to be executed by hanging, before nine o’clock on the following 
 morning. 
 
 It was not usual to inflict capital punishments, even on the enemy, 
 without referring the case to the commander-in-chief, for his appro- 
 bation ; or, in his absence, to the officer commanding for the time 
 being. But, as Washington held his head-quarters at New-Wind- 
 
354 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 sor, on tlie western bank of the Hudson, sufficient time was yet be- 
 fore them to receive his answer. 
 
 “This is short notice /' ’ said the veteran, holding the pen in his 
 hand, in a suspense that had no object; “not a day to fit one so 
 young for heaven?” 
 
 “ The royal officers gave Hale* but an hour,” returned his com- 
 rade; “we have granted the usual time. But Washington has the 
 power to extend it, or to pardon.” 
 
 “ Then to Washington will I go,” cried the Colonel, returning the 
 paper with his signature ; “ and if the services of an old man like 
 me, or that brave boy of mine, entitle me to his ear, I will yet save 
 the youth.” 
 
 So saying, he departed, full of his generous intentions in favour 
 of Henry Wffiarton. 
 
 The sentence of the court was communicated, with proper tender- 
 ness, to the prisoner ; and after giving a few necessary instructions 
 to the officer in command, and despatching a courier to head-quarters 
 with their report, the remaining judges mounted, and rode to their 
 own quarters, with the same unmoved exterior, but with the con- 
 sciousness of the same dispassionate integrity, that they had main- 
 tained throughout the trial. 
 
 * An American officer of this name was detected within the British lines, 
 in disguise, in search of military information. He was tried and executed, 
 as stated in the text, as soon as the preparations could be made. It is said 
 that he was reproached under the gallows with dishonouring the rank he held 
 by his fate. “What a death for an officer to die !” said one of his captors 
 — “ Gentlemen, any death is honourable when a man dies in a cause like 
 that of America,” was his answer. 
 
 Andre was executed amid the tears of his enemies ; Hale died unpitied, 
 and with reproaches in his ears ; and yet one was the victim of ambition, and 
 the othei of devotion to his country. Posterity will do justice between them. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Have you no countermand for Claudio yet 1 
 But he must die to-morrow 1 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 A few hours were passed by the prisoner, after his sentence was 
 received, in the bosom of his family. Mr. Wharton wept in hope- 
 less despondency over the untimely fate of his son ; and Frances, 
 after recovering from her insensibility, experienced an anguish of 
 feeling to which the bitterness of death itself would have been com- 
 paratively light. Miss Peyton alone retained a vestige of hope, or 
 presence of mind to suggest what might be proper to be done under 
 their circumstances. The comparative composure of the good aunt 
 arose in no degree from any want of interest in the welfare of her 
 nephew, but it was founded in a kind of instinctive dependence on 
 the character of Washington. He was a native of the same colony 
 with herself ; and although his early military services, and her fre- 
 quent visits to the family of her sister, and subsequent establishment 
 at its head, had prevented their ever meeting, still she was familiar 
 with his domestic virtues, and well knew that the rigid inflexibility 
 for which his public acts were distinguished formed no part of his 
 reputation in private life. He was known in Virginia as a consis- 
 tent, but just and lenient master ; and she felt a kind of pride in 
 associating in her mind her countryman with the man who led the 
 armies, and in a great measure controlled the destinies, of America. 
 She knew that Henry was innocent of the crime for which he was 
 condemned to suffer, and, with that kind of simple faith that is ever 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 &c>6 
 
 to be found in the most ingenuous characters, could not conceive of 
 those constructions and interpretations of law that inflicted punish- 
 ment without the actual existence of crime. But even her confiding 
 hopes were doomed to meet with a speedy termination. Towards 
 noon, a regiment of militia, that was quartered on the banks of the 
 river, moved up to the ground in front of the house that held our 
 heroine and her family, and deliberately pitched their tents, with the 
 avowed intention of remaining until the following morning, to give 
 solemnity and effect to the execution of a British spy. 
 
 Dunwoodie had performed all that was required of him by his 
 orders, and was at liberty to retrace his steps to his expecting squad- 
 ron, which was impatiently waiting his return, to be led against a 
 detachment of the enemy, that was known to be slowly moving up 
 the banks of the river, in order to cover a party of foragers in its 
 rear. He was accompanied by a small party of Lawton’s troop, under 
 the expectation that their testimony might be required to convict the 
 prisoner; and Mason, the lieutenant, was in command. But the 
 confession of Captain Wharton had removed the necessity of examin- 
 ing any witnesses on behalf of the people.* The major, from an 
 unwillingness to encounter the distress of Henry’s friends, and a 
 dread of trusting himself within its influence, had spent the time we 
 have mentioned in walking by himself, in keen anxiety, at a short 
 distance from the dwelling. Like Miss Peyton, he had some reliance 
 on the mercy of Washington, although moments of terrific doubt and 
 despondency were continually crossing his mind. To him the rules 
 of service were familiar, and he was more accustomed to consider his 
 general in the capacity of a ruler, than as exhibiting the charac- 
 teristics of the individual. A dreadful instance had too recently 
 occurred, which fully proved that Washington was above the weak- 
 ness of sparing another in mercy to himself. While pacing, with 
 hurried steps, through the orchard, labouring under these constantly 
 
 * In America, justice is administered in the name of “ the good people,” 
 fcc. &c. ; the sovereignty residing w.ih them. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 357 
 
 recurring doubts, enlivened by transient rays of hope, Mason ap- 
 proached, accoutred completely for the saddle. 
 
 u Thinking you might have forgotten the news brought this morn- 
 ing from below, sir, I have taken the liberty to order the detachment 
 under arms/' ’ said the lieutenant, very coolly, cutting down with his 
 sheathed sabre the mullen tops that grew within his reach. 
 
 “ What news V ’ cried the major, starting. 
 
 u Only that John Bull is out in West-Chester, with a train of 
 waggons, which if he fills, will compel us to retire through these 
 cursed hills, in search of provender. These greedy Englishmen are 
 so shut up on York Island, that when they do venture out, they 
 seldom leave straw enough to furnish the bed of a Yankee heiress.” 
 “ Where did the express leave them, did you say ? The intelli- 
 gence has entirely escaped my memory.” 
 
 “ On the heights above Sing-Sing,” returned the lieutenant, with 
 no little amazement. u The road below looks like a hay-market, and 
 all the swine are sighing forth their lamentations, as the corn passes 
 them towards Kingsbridge. George Singleton’s orderly, who brought 
 up the tidings, says that our horses were holding consultation if they 
 should not go down without their riders, and eat another meal, for 
 it is questionable with them whether they can get a full stomach 
 again. If they are suffered to get back with their plunder, we shall 
 not be able to find a piece of pork at Christmas fat enough to fry 
 itself.” 
 
 “ Peace, with all this nonsense of Singleton’s orderly, Mr. Mason,” 
 cried Dunwoodie, impatiently ; “ let him learn to wait the orders of 
 his superiors.” 
 
 “I beg pardon in his name, Major Dunwoodie,” said the subal- 
 tern; “but, like myself, he was in error. We both thought it was 
 the order of General Heath, to attack and molest the enemy when- 
 ever he ventured out of his nest.” 
 
 H Recollect yourself, Lieutenant Mason,” said the major, “ or I 
 may have to teach you that your orders pass through me.” 
 
358 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ I know it, Major Dunwoodie — I know it; and I am sorry that 
 your memory is so bad as to forget that I never have yet hesitated 
 to obey them.” 
 
 “ Forgive me, Mason,” cried Dunwoodie, taking both his hands ; 
 “ I do know you for a brave and obedient soldier ; forget my hu- 
 mour. But this business — Had you ever a friend ?” 
 
 “Nay, nay,” interrupted the lieutenant; “forgive me and my 
 honest zeal. I knew of the orders, and was fearful that censure 
 might fall on my officer. But remain, and let a man breathe a 
 syllable against the corps, and every sword will start from the scab- 
 bard of itself; besides, they are still moving up, and it is a long 
 road from Croton to Kingsbridge. Happen what may, I see plainly 
 that we shall be on their heels before they are housed again.” 
 
 “ Oh ! that the courier was returned from head-quarters !” ex- 
 claimed Dunwoodie. “ This suspense is insupportable.” 
 
 “ You have your wish,” cried Mason; “ here he is at the moment, 
 and riding like the bearer of good news. God send it may be so ; 
 for I can’t say that I particularly like myself to see a brave young 
 fellow dancing upon nothing.” 
 
 Dunwoodie heard but very little of this feeling declaration ; for, 
 ere half of it was uttered, he had leaped the fence, and stood before 
 the messenger. 
 
 “What news?” cried the major, the moment that the soldier 
 stopped his horse. 
 
 “ Good !” exclaimed the man ; and feeling no hesitation to intrust 
 an officer so well known as Major Dunwoodie, he placed the paper 
 in his hands, as he added, “ but you can read it, sir, for yourself.” 
 Dunwoodie paused not to read ; but flew, with the elastic spring 
 of joy, to the chamber of the prisoner. The sentinel knew him, and 
 he was suffered to pass without question. 
 
 “ Oh ! Peyton,” cried Frances, as he entered the apartment, “ you 
 look like a messenger from heaven ! bring you tidings of mercy ?” 
 “Here, Frances — here, Henry — here, dear cousin Jeanette/' 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 359 
 
 cried the youth, as with trembling hands he broke the seal ; “ here 
 is the letter itself, directed to the captain of the guard. But 
 listen — ! ” 
 
 All did listen with intense anxiety ; and the pang of blasted hope 
 was added to their misery, as they saw the glow of delight which had 
 beamed on the countenance of the major give place to a look of 
 horror. The paper contained the sentence of the court, and under- 
 neath was written these simple words — 
 
 “ Approved — Gteo. Washington.” 
 
 “ He ’s lost, he ’s lost !” cried Frances, sinking into the arms of 
 her aunt. 
 
 “ My son ! my son !” sobbed the father, “ there is mercy in hea- 
 ven, if there is none on earth. May Washington never want that 
 mercy he thus denies to my innocent child !” 
 
 “ Washington !” echoed Bunwoodie, gazing around him in vacant 
 horror. “ Yes, ’tis the act of Washington himself; these are his 
 characters; his very name is here, to sanction the dreadful deed.” 
 
 “ Cruel, cruel Washington !” cried Miss Peyton; “how has fami- 
 liarity with blood changed his nature !” 
 
 “ Blame him not,” said Bunwoodie ; “ it is the general, and not 
 the man ; my life on it, he feels the blow he is compelled to inflict.” 
 “ I have been deceived in him,” cried Frances. “ He is not the 
 saviour of his country ; but a cold and merciless tyrant. Oh ! Pey- 
 ton, Peyton ! how have you misled me in his character !” 
 
 “Peace, dear Frances; peace for God’s sake; use not such lan- 
 guage. He is but the guardian of the law.” 
 
 “ You speak the truth, Major Bunwoodie,” said Henry, recover- 
 ing from the shock of having his last ray of hope extinguished, and 
 advancing from his seat by the side of his father. “ I, who am to 
 suffer, blame him not. Every indulgence has been granted me that 
 I can ask. On the verge of the grave, I cannot continue unjust. At 
 such a moment, with so recent an instance of danger to your cause 
 from treason, I wonder not at Washington’s unbending justice. No 
 
360 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 thing now remains but to prepare for that fate which so speedily 
 awaits me. To you, Major Dunwoodie, I make my first request.” 
 
 “Name it,” said the major, giving utterance with difficulty. 
 
 Henry turned, and pointing to the group of weeping mourners 
 near him, he continued — 
 
 “ Be a son to this aged man ; help his weakness, and defend him 
 from any usage to which the stigma thrown upon me may subject 
 him. He has not many friends amongst the rulers of this country ; 
 let your powerful name be found among them.” 
 
 “It shall.” 
 
 “ And this helpless innocent,” continued Henry, pointing to where 
 Sarah sat, unconscious of what was passing, — “ I had hoped for an 
 opportunity to revenge her wrongs ;” a flush of excitement passed 
 over his features ; “ but such thoughts are evil — I feel them to be 
 wrong. Under your care, Peyton, she will find sympathy and re- 
 fuge.” 
 
 u She shall,” whispered Dunwoodie. 
 
 “ This good aunt has claims upon you already ; of her I will not 
 speak : but here,” taking the hand of Frances, and dwelling upon 
 her countenance with an expression of fraternal affection — “ here is 
 the choicest gift of all. Take her to your bosom, and cherish her as 
 you would cultivate innocence and virtue.” 
 
 The major could not repress the eagerness with which he extended 
 his hand to receive the precious boon ; but Frances, shrinking from 
 his touch, hid her face in the bosom of her aunt. 
 
 “ No, no, no !” she murmured ; “ none can ever be any thing to 
 me who aid in my brother’s destruction.” 
 
 Henry continued gazing at her in tender pity for several moments, 
 before he again resumed a discourse that all felt was most peculiarly 
 his own. 
 
 “ I have been mistaken, then. I did think, Peyton, that your 
 worth, your noble devotion to a cause that you have been taught to 
 revere, that your kindness to our father when in imprisonment, your 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 361 
 
 friendship for me, — in short, that your character was understood and 
 valued by my sister.” 
 
 “It is — it is,” whispered Frances, burying her face still deeper 
 in the bosom of her aunt. 
 
 “ I believe, dear Henry,” said Funwoodie, “ this is a subject that 
 had better not be dwelt upon now.” 
 
 “You forget,” returned the prisoner, with a faint smile, “how 
 much I have to do, and how little time is left to do it in.” 
 
 “I apprehend,” continued the major, with a face of fire, “that 
 Miss Wharton has imbibed some opinions of me that would make a 
 compliance with your request irksome to her — opinions that it is 
 now too late to alter.” 
 
 “No, no. no,” cried Frances, quickly; “you are exonerated, 
 Peyton — with her dying breath she removed my doubts.” 
 
 “ Generous Isabella !” murmured Funwoodie ; “ but still, Henry, 
 spare your sister now ; nay, spare even me.” 
 
 “ I speak in pity to myself,” returned the brother, gently removing 
 Frances from the arms of her aunt. “ What a time is this to leave 
 two such lovely females without a protector ! — Their abode is 
 destroyed, and misery will speedily deprive them of their last male 
 friend,” looking at his father; “can I die in peace with the know- 
 ledge of the danger to which they will be exposed ?” 
 
 “You forget me,” said Miss Peyton, shrinking at the idea of 
 celebrating nuptials at such a moment. 
 
 “No, my dear aunt, I forget you not, nor shall I, until I cease to 
 remember; but you forget the times and the danger. The good 
 woman who lives in this house has already despatched a messenger 
 for a man of God, to smooth my passage to another world. — 
 Frances, if you would wish me to die in peace, to feel a security 
 that will allow me to turn my whole thoughts to heaven, you will let 
 this clergyman unite you to Funwoodie.” 
 
 Frances shook her head, but remained silent. 
 
 “I ask for no joy — no demonstration of a felicity that you will 
 
 16 
 
THE Spy. 
 
 / 
 
 362 
 
 not, cannot feel, for months to come ; but obtain a right to his power 
 ful name — give him an undisputed title to protect you — ” 
 
 Again the maid made an impressive gesture of denial. 
 
 “ For the sake of that unconscious sufferer — ” pointing to Sarah, 
 “ for your sake — for my sake — my sister — ■” 
 
 “ Peace, Henry, or you will break my heart,” cried the agitated 
 girl; “not for worlds would I at such a moment engage in the 
 solemn vows that you wish. It would render me miserable for life.” 
 “You love him not,” said Henry, reproachfully. “I cease to 
 importune you to do what is against your inclinations.” 
 
 Frances raised one hand to conceal her countenance, as she 
 extended the other towards Dunwoodie, and said earnestly — 
 
 “Now you are unjust to me — before, you were unjust to your- 
 self.” 
 
 “Promise me, then,” said Wharton, musing awhile in silence, 
 “ that as soon as the recollection of my fate is softened, you will give 
 my friend that hand for life, and I am satisfied.” 
 
 “ I do promise,” said Frances, withdrawing the hand that Dun- 
 woodie delicately relinquished, without even presuming to press it to 
 his lips. 
 
 “Well, then, my good aunt,” continued Henry, “will you leave 
 me for a short time alone with my friend ? I have a few melancholy 
 commissions with which to intrust him, and would spare you and 
 my sister the pain of hearing them.” 
 
 “ There is yet time to see Washington again,” said Miss Peyton, 
 moving towards the door ; and then, speaking with extreme dignity, 
 she continued — “I will go myself : surely he must listen to a 
 woman from his own colony ! — and we are in some degree con- 
 nected with his family.” 
 
 “ Why not apply to Mr. Harper ?” said Frances, recollecting the 
 parting words of their guest for the first time. 
 
 “ Harper !” echoed Dunwoodie, turning towards her with the 
 swiftness of lightning; “what of him? do you know him?” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 363 
 
 “ It is in vain/’ said Henry, drawing him aside ; “ Frances clings 
 co hope with the fondness of a sister. Retire, my love, and leave 
 me with my friend.” 
 
 But Frances read an expression in the eye of Dunwoodie that 
 chained her to the spot. After struggling to command her feelings, 
 she continued — 
 
 “ He stayed with us for two days — he was with us when Henry 
 was arrested.” 
 
 “And — and — did you know him ?” 
 
 “ Nay,” continued Frances, catching her breath as she witnessed 
 the intense interest of her lover, “ we knew him not ; he came to us 
 in the night, a stranger, and remained with us during the severe 
 storm ; but he seemed to take an interest in Henry, and promised 
 him his friendship.” 
 
 “ What !” exclaimed the youth, in astonishment ; “ did he know 
 your brother?” 
 
 “ Certainly ; — it was at his request that Henry threw aside his 
 disguise.” 
 
 “But,” said Dunwoodie, turning pale with suspense, “he knew 
 him not as an officer of the royal army ?” 
 
 “Indeed he did,” cried Miss Peyton; “and he cautioned us 
 against this very danger.” 
 
 Dunwoodie caught up the fatal paper, that still lay where it had 
 fallen from his own hands, and studied its characters intently. Some- 
 thing seemed to bewilder his brain. He passed his hand over his 
 forehead, while each eye was fixed on him in dreadful suspense — 
 all feeling afraid to admit those hopes anew that had once been so 
 sadly destroyed. 
 
 “ What said he ? what promised he ?” at length Dunwoodie asked, 
 with feverish impatience. 
 
 “ He bid Henry apply to him when in danger, and promised to 
 requite the son for the hospitality of the father.” 
 
 “ Said he this, knowing him to be a British officer ?” 
 
364 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ Most certainly ; and with a view to this very danger/' 
 
 “ Then/' cried the youth aloud, and yielding to his rapture, “ then 
 you are safe — then will I save him ; yes, Harper will never forget 
 his word." 
 
 “ But has he the power ?" said Frances ; “ can he move the stub- 
 born purpose of Washington?" 
 
 “ Can he ! If he cannot," shouted the youth, “ if he cannot, who 
 can ? — Greene, and Heath, and young Hamilton, are nothing, com- 
 pared to this Harper. But," rushing to his mistress, and pressing 
 her hands convulsively, “ repeat to me — you say you have his pro- 
 mise ?" 
 
 “ Surely, surely, Peyton ; — his solemn, deliberate promise, know- 
 ing all of the circumstances." 
 
 “Best easy," cried Dunwoodie, holding her to his bosom for a 
 moment, “rest easy, for Henry is safe." 
 
 He waited not to explain, but darting from the room, he left the 
 family in amazement. They continued in silent wonder until they 
 heard the feet of his charger, as he dashed from the door with the 
 speed of an arrow. 
 
 A long time was spent after this abrupt departure of the youth, 
 by the anxious friends he had left, in discussing the probability of 
 his success. The confidence of his manner had, however, communi- 
 cated to his auditors something of his own spirit. Each felt that 
 the prospects of Henry were again brightening, and with their reviv- 
 ing hopes they experienced a renewal of spirits, which in all but 
 Henry himself amounted to pleasure : with him, indeed, his state 
 was too awful to admit of trifling, and for a few hours he was con- 
 demned to feel how much more intolerable was suspense than even 
 the certainty of calamity. Not so with Frances. She, with all the 
 reliance of affection, reposed in security on the assurance of Dun 
 woodie, without harassing herself with doubts that she possessed not 
 the means of satisfying; but believing her lover able to accomplish 
 every thing that man could do, and retaining a vivid recollection of 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 365 
 
 the manner and benevolent appearance of Harper, sbe abandoned 
 herself to all the felicity of renovated hope. 
 
 The joy of Miss Peyton was more sobered, and she took frequent 
 occasions to reprove her niece for the exuberance of her spirits, be- 
 fore there was a certainty that their expectations were to be realised 
 But the slight smile that hovered around the lips of the virgin con- 
 tradicted the very sobriety of feeling that she inculcated. 
 
 “ Why, dearest aunt,” said Frances, playfully, in reply to one of 
 her frequent reprimands, “ would you have me repress the pleasure 
 that I feel at Henry’s deliverance, when you yourself have so often 
 declared it to be impossible that such men as ruled in our country 
 could sacrifice an innocent man ?” 
 
 “Nay, I did believe it impossible, my child, and yet think so; 
 but still there is a discretion to be shown in joy as well as in sor- 
 row.” 
 
 Frances recollected the declaration of Isabella, and turned an eye 
 filled with tears of gratitude on her excellent aunt, as she replied — - 
 
 “ True : but there are feelings that will not yield to reason. Ah ! 
 here are those monsters, who have come to witness the death of a 
 fellow-creature, moving around yon field, as if life was, to them, 
 nothing but a military show.” 
 
 “ It is but little more to the hireling soldier,” said Henry, endea- 
 vouring to forget his uneasiness. 
 
 “ You gaze, my love, as if you thought a military show of some 
 importance,” said Miss Peyton, observing her niece to be looking 
 from the window with a fixed and abstracted attention. But Frances 
 answered not. 
 
 From the window where she stood, the pass that they had tra- 
 velled through the Highlands was easily to be seen ; and the moun- 
 tain which held on its summit the mysterious hut was directly before 
 her. Its side was rugged and barren ; huge and apparently impas- 
 sable barriers of rocks presenting themselves through the stunted 
 oaks, which, stripped of their foliage, were scattered over its surface. 
 
366 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 The base of the hill was not half a mile from the house, and the 
 object which attracted the notice of Frances, was the figure of a man 
 emerging from behind a rock of remarkable formation, and as sud- 
 denly disappearing. This manoeuvre was several times repeated, as 
 if it were the intention of the fugitive (for such by his air he seemed 
 to be) to reconnoitre the proceedings of the soldiery, and assure him- 
 self of the position of things on the plain. Notwithstanding the 
 distance, Frances instantly imbibed the opinion that it was Birch. 
 Perhaps this impression was partly owing to the air and figure of the 
 man, but in a great measure to the idea that presented itself on for- 
 merly beholding the object at the summit of the mountain. That 
 they were the same figure she was confident, although this wanted 
 the appearance which, in the other, she had taken for the pack of 
 the pedler. Harvey had so connected himself with the mysterious 
 deportment of Harper, within her imagination, that, under circum- 
 stances of less agitation than those in which she had laboured since 
 her arrival, she would have kept her suspicions to herself. Frances, 
 therefore, sat ruminating on this second appearance in silence, and 
 endeavouring to trace what possible connection this extraordinary 
 man could have with the fortunes of her own family. Pie had cer- 
 tainly saved Sarah, in some degree, from the blow that had partially 
 alighted on her, and in no instance had he proved himself to be hos- 
 tile to their interests. 
 
 After gazing for a long time at the point where she had last seen 
 the figure, in the vain expectation of its re-appearance, she turned to 
 her friends in the apartment. Miss Peyton was sitting by Sarah, 
 who gave some slight additional signs of observing what passed, but 
 who still continued insensible either to joy or grief. 
 
 u I suppose, by this time, my love, that you are well acquainted 
 with the manoeuvres of a regiment,” said Miss Peyton ; u it is no 
 bad quality in a soldier's wife, at all events.” 
 
 “ I am not a wife yet,” said Frances, colouring to the eyes ; “ and 
 we have little reason to wish for another wedding in our family.” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 367 
 
 u Frances !” exclaimed her brother, starting from his seat, and 
 pacing the floor in violent agitation, u touch not the chord again, I 
 entreat you. While my fate is uncertain, I would wish to be at 
 peace with all men.” 
 
 “ Then let the uncertainty cease,” cried Frances, springing to the 
 door, u for here comes Peyton with the joyful intelligence of your 
 release.” 
 
 The words were hardly uttered, before the door opened, and the 
 Major entered. In his air there was the appearance of neither suc- 
 cess, nor defeat, but there was a marked display of vexation. He 
 took the hand that Frances, in the fulness of her heart, extended 
 towards him, but instantly relinquishing it, threw himself into a 
 chair, in evident fatigue. 
 
 u You have failed,” said Wharton, with a bound of his heart, but 
 an appearance of composure. 
 
 u Have you seen Harper ?” cried Frances, turning pale. 
 
 “ I have not ) I crossed the river in one boat as he must have 
 been coming to this side, in another. I returned without delay, and 
 traced him for several miles into the Highlands, by the western pass, 
 but there I unaccountably lost him. I have returned here to relieve 
 your uneasiness ; but see him I will this night, and bring a respite 
 for Henry.” 
 
 “ But saw you Washington?” asked Miss Peyton. 
 
 Dunwoodie gazed at her a moment in abstracted musing, and the 
 question was repeated. He answered gravely, and with some re- 
 serve — 
 
 u The Commander-in-chief had left his quarters.” 
 
 “ But, Peyton,” cried Frances, in returning terror, u if they should 
 not see each other, it will be too late. Harper alone will not be 
 sufficient.” 
 
 Her lover turned his eyes slowly on her anxious countenance, and 
 dwelling a moment on her features, said, still musing — 
 
 “ You say that he promised to assist Henry.” 
 
368 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u Certainly, of his own accord, and in requital for the hospitalitj 
 he had received.” 
 
 Dunwoodie shook his head, and began to look grave. 
 u I like not that word hospitality — it has an empty sound ; there 
 must be something more reasonable to tie Harper. I dread some 
 mistake : repeat to me all that passed.” 
 
 Frances, in a hurried and earnest voice, complied with his re- 
 quest. She related particularly the manner of his arrival at the 
 Locusts, the reception that he received, and the events that passed, 
 as minutely as her memory could supply her with the means. As 
 she alluded to the conversation that occurred between her father and 
 his guest, the Major smiled, but remained silent. She then gave a 
 detail of Henry’s arrival, and the events of the following day. She 
 dwelt upon the part where Harper had desired her brother to throw 
 aside his disguise, and recounted, with wonderful accuracy, his re- 
 marks upon the hazard of the step that the youth had taken. She 
 even remembered a remarkable expression of his to her brother, 
 u that he was safer from Harper’s knowledge of his person, than he 
 would be without it.” Frances mentioned, with the warmth of 
 youthful admiration, the benevolent character of his deportment to 
 herself, and gave a minute relation of his adieus to the whole 
 family. 
 
 Dunwoodie at first listened with grave attention ; evident satisfac- 
 tion followed as she proceeded. When she spoke of herself, in con- 
 nection with their guest, he smiled with pleasure, and as she concluded 
 he exclaimed, with delight — 
 
 “We are safe! — we are safe!” 
 
 But he was interrupted, as will be seen in the following chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The owlet loves the gloom of night, 
 
 The lark salutes the day, 
 
 The timid dove will coo at hand — 
 
 But falcons soar away. 
 
 Song in Duo. 
 
 In a country settled, like these states, by a people who fled then- 
 native land and much-loved firesides, victims of consciences and 
 religious zeal, none of the decencies and solemnities of a Christian 
 death are dispensed with, when circumstances will admit of their 
 exercise. The good woman of the house was a strict adherent to the 
 forms of the church to which she belonged ; and having herself been 
 awakened to a sense of her depravity, by the ministry of the divine 
 who harangued the people of the adjoining parish, she thought it 
 was from his exhortations only that salvation could be meted out to 
 the short-lived hopes of Henry Wharton. Not that the kind-hearted 
 matron was so ignorant of the doctrines of the religion which she 
 professed, as to depend, theoretically, on mortal aid for protection ; 
 but she had, to use her own phrase, u sat so long under the preach- 
 ing of good Mr. ,” that she had unconsciously imbibed a 
 
 practical reliance on his assistance, for that which her faith should 
 have taught her could come from the Deity alone. With her, the 
 consideration of death was at all times awful; and the instant that 
 the sentence of the prisoner was promulgated, she despatched Caesar, 
 mounted on one of her husband's best horses, in quest of her clerical 
 monitor. This step had been taken without consulting either Henry 
 or his friends ; and it was only when the services of Caesar were 
 
 16 * 
 
370 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 required on some domestic emergency, that she explained the nature 
 of his absence. The youth heard her, at first, with an unconquer- 
 able reluctance to admit of such a spiritual guide ; but as our view 
 of the things of this life becomes less vivid, our prejudices and habits 
 cease to retain their influence ; and a civil bow of thanks was finally 
 given, in requital for the considerate care of the well-meaning woman. 
 
 The black returned early from his expedition, and, as well as could 
 be gathered from his somewhat incoherent narrative, a minister of 
 G-od might be expected to arrive in the course of the day. The in- 
 terruption that we mentioned in our preceding chapter was occasioned 
 by the entrance of the landlady. At the intercession of Dunwoodie, 
 orders had been given to the sentinel who guarded the door of Henry’s 
 room, that the members of the prisoner’s family should, at all times, 
 have free access to his apartment : Caesar was included in this arrange- 
 ment, as a matter of convenience, by the officer in command ; but 
 strict enquiry and examination was made into the errand of every 
 other applicant for admission. The Major had, however, included 
 himself among the relatives of the British officer; and one pledge, 
 that no rescue should be attempted, was given in his name, for them 
 all. A short conversation was passing between the woman of the 
 house and the corporal of the guard, before the door that the sentinel 
 had already opened in anticipation of the decision of his non-com- 
 missioned commandant. 
 
 “ Would you refuse the consolations of religion to a fellow-crea 
 ture about to suffer death ?” said the matron, with earnest zeal. 
 u Would you plunge a soul into the fiery furnace, and a minister at 
 hand to point out the strait and narrow path ?” 
 
 u I ’ll tell you what, good woman,” returned the corporal, gently 
 pushing her away ; u I ’ve no notion of my back being a highway 
 for any man to walk to heaven upon. A pretty figure I should 
 make at the pickets, for disobeying orders. J ust step down and ask 
 Lieutenant Mason, and you may bring in the whole congregation. 
 We have not taken the guard from the foot-soldiers, but an hour, 
 
THE S P V . 
 
 371 
 
 and I shouldn’t like to have it said that we know less of our duty 
 than the militia.” 
 
 “ Admit the woman/’ said Dunwoodie, sternly, observing, for the 
 first time, that one of his own corps was on post. 
 
 The corporal raised his hand to his cap, and fell back in silence ; 
 the soldier stood to his arms, and the matron entered. 
 
 u Here is a reverend gentleman below, come to soothe the parting 
 soul, in the place of our own divine, who is engaged with an appoint- 
 ment that could not be put aside; ’tis to bury old Mr. .” 
 
 “ Show him in,” said Henry, with feverish impatience. 
 
 “ But will the sentinel let him pass ? I would not wish a friend of 
 
 Mr. to be rudely stopped on the threshold, and he a stranger.” 
 
 All eyes were now turned on Dunwoodie, who, looking at his 
 watch, spoke a few words with Henry, in an under tone, and hastened 
 from the apartment, followed by Frances. The subject of their con- 
 versation was a wish expressed by tlm prisoner for a clergyman of his 
 own persuasion, and a promise from the Major, that one should be 
 sent from Fishkill town, through which he was about to pass, on his 
 way to the ferry to intercept the expected return of Harper. Mason 
 soon made his bow at the door, and willingly complied with the 
 wishes of the landlady; and the divine was invited to make his ap- 
 pearance accordingly. 
 
 The person who was ushered into the apartment, preceded by 
 Caesar, and followed by the matron, was a man beyond the middle 
 age, or who might rather be said to approach the downhill of life. 
 In stature he was above the size of ordinary men, though his exces- 
 sive leanness might contribute in deceiving as to his height; his 
 countenance was sharp and unbending, and every muscle seemed set 
 in rigid compression. No joy, or relaxation, appeared ever to have 
 dwelt on features that frowned habitually, as if in detestation of the 
 vices of mankind. The brows were beetling, dark, and forbidding, 
 giving the promise of eyes of no less repelling expression ; but the 
 organs were concealed beneath a pair of enormous green goggles, 
 
372 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 through which they glared around with a fierceness that denounced 
 the coming day of wrath. All was fanaticism, uncharitableness, and 
 denunciation. Long, lank hair, a mixture of grey and black, fell 
 down his neck, and in some degree obscured the sides of his face, 
 and, parting on his forehead, fell in either direction in straight and 
 formal screens. On the top of this ungraceful exhibition was laid, 
 impending forward, so as to overhang in some measure the whole 
 fabric, a large hat of three equal cocks. His coat was of a rusty 
 black, and his breeches and stockings were of the same colour ; his 
 shoes without lustre, and half concealed beneath huge plated buckles. 
 
 He stalked into the room, and giving a stiff nod with his head, 
 took the chair offered him by the black, in dignified silence. For 
 several minutes no one broke this ominous pause in the conversation ; 
 Henry feeling a repugnance to his guest, that he was vainly endea- 
 vouring to conquer, and the stranger himself drawing forth occa- 
 sional sighs and groans, that threatened a dissolution of the unequal 
 connection between his sublimated soul and its ungainly tenement 
 During this deathlike preparation, Mr. Wharton, with a feeling 
 nearly allied to that of his son, led Sarah from the apartment. His 
 retreat was noticed by the divine, in a kind of scornful disdain, who 
 began to hum the air of a popular psalm tune, giving it the full 
 richness of the twang that distinguishes the Eastern* psalmody. 
 
 “ Caesar,” said Miss Peyton, “ hand the gentleman some refresh- 
 ment; he must need it after his ride.” 
 
 “ My strength is not in the things of life,” said the divine, speak- 
 ing in a hollow, sepulchral voice. “ Thrice have I this day held 
 forth in my master’s service, and fainted not; still it is prudent to 
 help this frail tenement of clay, for, surely, ‘ the labourer is worthy 
 of his hire/” 
 
 Opening a pair of enormous jaws, he took a good measure of the 
 
 * By “ Eastern” is meant the states of New England, which, being origi- 
 nally settled by Puritans, still retain many distinct shades of character. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 SIS 
 
 proffered brandy, and suffered it to glide downwards, with that sort 
 of facility with which man is prone to sin. 
 
 u I apprehend, then, sir, that fatigue will disable you from per- 
 forming the duties, which kindness has induced you to attempt.” 
 
 “ Woman!” exclaimed the stranger, with energy, u when was 1 
 ever known to shrink from a duty? But c judge not, lest ye be 
 judged/ and fancy not that it is given to mortal eyes to fathom the 
 intentions of the Deity.” 
 
 “ Nay,” returned the maiden, meekly, and slightly disgusted with 
 his jargon, “ I pretend not to judge of either events, or the inten- 
 tions of my fellow-creatures, much less of those of Omnipotence.” 
 
 “*Tis well, woman — Tis well,” cried the minister, waving his 
 head with supercilious disdain ; “ humility becometh thy sex, and 
 lost condition ; thy weakness driveth thee on headlong, like c unto 
 the besom of destruction/ ” 
 
 Surprised at this extraordinary deportment, but yielding to that 
 habit which urges us to speak reverently on sacred subjects, even 
 when perhaps we had better continue silent, Miss Peyton re- 
 plied — 
 
 u There is a power above, that can and will sustain us all in well- 
 doing, if we seek its support in humility and truth.” 
 
 The stranger turned a lowering look at the speaker, and then 
 composing himself into an air of self-abasement, he continued in the 
 same repelling tones — 
 
 “It is not every one that crieth out for mercy, that will be heard. 
 The ways of Providence are not to be judged by men — ‘ Many are 
 called, but few chosen/ It is easier to talk of humility, than to feel 
 it. Are you so humble, vile worm, as to wish to glorify Grod by 
 your own damnation ? If not, away with you for a publican and a 
 pharisee !” 
 
 Such gross fanaticism was uncommon in America, and Miss Pey- 
 ton began to imbibe the impression that her guest was deranged ; 
 but remembering that he had been sent by a well-known divine, and 
 
374 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 one of reputation, she discarded the idea, and, with some forbear, 
 ance, observed — 
 
 “ I may deceive myself, in believing that mercy is proffered tc 
 all, but it is so soothing a doctrine, that I would not willingly be 
 undeceived / 7 
 
 “ Mercy is only for the elect / 7 cried the stranger, with an unac- 
 countable energy; “and you are in the 1 valley of the shadow of 
 death . 7 Are you not a follower of idle ceremonies, which belong to 
 the vain church, that our tyrants would gladly establish here, along 
 with their stamp-acts and tea-laws ? Answer me that, woman ; and 
 remember, that Heaven hears your answer : are you not of that 
 idolatrous communion ? 77 
 
 “ I worship at the altars of my fathers , 77 said Miss Peyton, mo- 
 tioning to Henry for silence ; “ but bow to no other idol than my 
 own infirmities / 7 
 
 “Yes, yes, I know ye, self-righteous and papal as ye are — fol- 
 lowers of forms, and listeners to bookish preaching; think you, 
 woman, that holy Paul had notes in his hand to propound the word 
 to the believers ? 77 
 
 “ My presence disturbs you , 77 said Miss Peyton, rising : “ I will 
 leave you with my nephew, and offer those prayers in private that I 
 did wish to mingle with his . 77 
 
 So saying, she withdrew, followed by the landlady, who was not a 
 little shocked, and somewhat surprised, by the intemperate zeal of 
 her new acquaintance ; for, although the good woman believed that 
 Miss Peyton and her whole church were on the high road to destruc- 
 tion, she was by no means accustomed to hear such offensive and 
 open avowals of their fate. 
 
 Henry had with difficulty repressed the indignation excited by 
 this unprovoked attack on his meek and unresisting aunt; but as 
 the door closed on her retiring figure, he gave way to his feelings — 
 
 “ I must confess, sir , 77 he exclaimed with heat, “ that in receiving 
 a minister of God, I thought I was admitting a Christian ; and one 
 
THE S P V . 
 
 37o 
 
 who, by feeling his own weaknesses, knew how to pity the frailties 
 of others. You have wounded the meek spirit of an excellent woman, 
 and I acknowledge but little inclination to mingle in prayer with so 
 intolerant a spirit.” 
 
 The minister stood erect, with grave composure, following with his 
 eyes, in a kind of scornful pity, the retiring females, and suffered 
 the expostulation of the youth to be given, as if unworthy of his 
 notice. A third voice, however, spoke — 
 
 “ Such a denunciation would have driven many women into fits ; 
 but it has answered the purpose well enough, as it is.” 
 
 u Who ? s that ?” cried the prisoner, in amazement, gazing around 
 the room in quest of the speaker — 
 
 “It is I, Captain Wharton,” said Harvey Birch, removing the 
 spectacles, and exhibiting his piercing eyes, shining under a pair of 
 false eye-brows. 
 
 “ Good Heavens — Harvey !” 
 
 “ Silence !” said the pedler, solemnly; “’tis a name not to be 
 mentioned, and least of all here, within the heart of the American 
 army.” Birch paused and gazed around him for a moment, with an 
 emotion exceeding the base passion of fear, and then continued in a 
 gloomy tone, “ There are a thousand halters in that very name, and 
 little hope would there be left me of another escape, should I be 
 again taken. This is a fearful venture that I am making; but I 
 could not sleep in quiet, and know that an innocent man was about 
 to die the death of a dog, when I might save him.” 
 
 “No,” said Henry, with a glow of generous feeling on his cheek ; 
 “ if the risk to yourself be so heavy, retire as you came, and leave 
 me to my fate. Dunwoodie is making, even now, powerful exertions 
 in my behalf ; and if he meets with Mr. Harper in the course of the 
 night, my liberation is certain.” 
 
 “ Harper !” echoed the pedler, remaining with his hands raised, 
 in the act of replacing the spectacles ; “ what do you know of Har- 
 per ? and why do you think he will do you service ?” 
 
37(3 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 u I have his promise ; — you remember our recent meeting in my 
 father’s dwelling, and he then gave an unasked promise to assist 
 me.” 
 
 “ Yes — but do you know him? that is — why do you think he 
 has the power ? or what reason have you for believing he will re- 
 member his word?” 
 
 u If there ever was the stamp of truth, or simple, honest benevo- 
 lence, in the countenance of man, it shone in his,” said Henry; 
 “ besides, Dunwoodie has powerful friends in the rebel army, and it 
 would be better that I take the chance where I am, than thus to 
 expose you to certain death, if detected.” 
 
 u Captain Wharton,” said Birch, looking guardedly around, and 
 speaking with impressive seriousness of manner, “ if I fail you, all 
 fail you. No Harper nor Dunwoodie can save your life; unless you 
 get out with me, and that within the hour, you die to-morrow on the 
 gallows of a murderer. Yes, such are their laws; the man who 
 fights, and kills, and plunders, is honoured ; but he who serves his 
 country as a spy, no matter how faithfully, no matter how honestly, 
 lives to be reviled, or dies like the vilest criminal !” 
 
 u You forget, Mr. Birch,” said the youth, a little indignantly, 
 “ that I am not a treacherous, lurking spy, who deceives to betray ; 
 but innocent of the charge imputed to me.” 
 
 The blood rushed over the pale, meagre features of the pedler, 
 until his face was one glow of fire ; but it passed quickly away, and 
 he replied — 
 
 u I have told you truth. Caesar met me, as he was going on his 
 errand this morning, and with him I have laid the plan which, if 
 executed as I wish, will save you — otherwise you are lost ; and I 
 again tell you, that no other power on earth, not even Washington, 
 can save you.” 
 
 u I submit,” said the prisoner, yielding to his earnest manner, and 
 goaded by the fears that were thus awakened anew. 
 
 The pedler beckoned him to be silent and walking to the door, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 377 
 
 opened it, with the stiff, formal air, with which he had entered the 
 apartment. 
 
 “ Friend, let no one enter,” he said to the sentinel; “we are 
 about to go to prayer, and would wish to be alone.” 
 
 “ I don’t know that any will wish to interrupt you,” returned the 
 soldier, with a waggish leer of his eye ; “ but, should they be so 
 disposed, I have no power to stop them, if they be of the prisoner’s 
 friends; I have my orders, and must mind them, whether the Eng- 
 lishman goes to heaven, or not.” 
 
 “ Audacious sinner !” said the pretended priest, “ have you not 
 the fear of God before your eyes ! I tell you, as you will dread 
 punishment at the last day, to let none of the idolatrous communion 
 enter, to mingle in the prayers of the righteous.” 
 
 “ Whew — ew — ew — what a noble commander you ’d make for 
 Sergeant Hollister ! you ’d preach him dumb in a roll-call. Hark’ee, 
 I ’ll thank you not to make such a noise when you hold forth, as to 
 drown our bugles, or you may get a poor fellow a short horn at his 
 grog, for not turning out to the evening parade : if you want to be 
 alone, have you no knife to stick over the door-latch, that you must 
 have a troop of horse to guard your meeting-house ?” 
 
 The pedler took the hint, and closed the door immediately, using 
 the precaution suggested by the dragoon. 
 
 “ You overact your part,” said young Wharton, in constant appre- 
 hension of discovery ; “ your zeal is too intemperate.” 
 
 “For a foot-soldier and them Eastern militia, it might be,” said 
 Harvey, turning a bag upside down, that Caesar now handed him ; 
 “ but these dragoons are fellows that you must brag down. A faint 
 heart, Captain Wharton, would do but little here ; but come, here is 
 a black shroud for your good-looking countenance,” taking, at the 
 same time, a parchment mask, and fitting it to the face of Henry. 
 “ The master and the man must change places for a season.” 
 
 “ I don’t tink he look a bit like me,” said Caesar, with disgust, as 
 he surveyed his young master with his new complexion. 
 
378 
 
 /l 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ Stop a minute, Caesar/' * said the pedler, with the lurking drol- 
 lery that at times formed part of his manner, “ till we get on the 
 wool/’ 
 
 “ He worse than ebber now,” cried the discontented African. “ A 
 tint coloured man like a sheep ! I nebber^see sich a lip, Harvey; 
 he most as big as a sausage !” 
 
 Great pains had been taken in forming the different articles used 
 in the disguise of Captain Wharton, and when arranged, under the 
 skilful superintendence of the pedler, they formed together a trans- 
 formation that would easily escape detection, from any but an extra- 
 ordinary observer. 
 
 The mask was stuffed and shaped in such a manner as to preserve 
 the peculiarities, as well as the colour, of the African visage ; and 
 the wig was so artfully formed of black and white wool, as to imitate 
 the pepper-and-salt colour of Caesar’s own head, and. to exact plaudits 
 from the black himself, who thought it an excellent counterfeit in 
 every thing but quality. 
 
 “ There is but one man in the American army who could detect 
 you, Captain Wharton,” said the pedler, surveying his work with 
 satisfaction, “ and he is just now out of our way.” 
 
 “And who is he?” 
 
 “ The man who made you prisoner. He would see your white 
 skin through a plank. But strip, both of you ; your clothes must 
 be exchanged from head to foot/'' 
 
 Caesar, who had received minute instructions from the pedler in 
 their morning interview, immediately commenced throwing aside 
 his coarse garments, which the youth took up and prepared to 
 invest himself with; unable, however, to repress a few signs of 
 loathing. 
 
 In the manner of the pedler there was an odd mixture of care 
 and humour ; the former was the result of a perfect knowledge of 
 their danger, and the means necessary to be used in avoiding it ; and 
 the latter proceeded from the unavoidably ludicrous circumstances 
 
THE SPY, 
 
 3 7 *? 
 
 before him, acting on an indifference which sprung from habit, and 
 long familiarity with such scenes as the present. 
 
 “ Here, Captain,” he said, taking up some loose wool, and begin- 
 ning to stuff the stockings of Caesar, which were already on the leg 
 of the prisoner ; “ some judgment is necessary in shaping this limb. 
 You will have to display it on horseback; and the southern dragoons 
 are so used to the brittle-shins, that should they notice your well- 
 turned calf, they ’d know at once it never belonged to a black.” 
 
 “ Golly !” said Caesar, with a chuckle, that exhibited a mouth 
 open from ear to ear, “ massy Harry breeches fit.” 
 
 “Any thing but your leg,” said the pedler, coolly pursuing the 
 toilet of Henry. “ Slip on the coat, Captain, over all. Upon my 
 word, you ’d pass well at a pinkster frolic ; and here, Caesar, place 
 this powdered wig over your curls, and be careful and look out of the 
 window, whenever the door is open, and on no account speak, or you 
 will betray all.” 
 
 “ I s’pose Harvey tink a color’d man an’t got a tongue like oder 
 folk,” grumbled the black, as he took the station assigned to him. 
 
 Every thing now was arranged for action, and the pedler very de- 
 liberately went over the whole of his injunctions to the two actors in 
 the scene. The Captain he conjured to dispense with his erect mili- 
 tary carriage, and for a season to adopt the humble paces of his 
 father’s negro; and Caesar he enjoined to silence and disguise, so 
 long as he could possibly maintain them. Thus prepared, he opened 
 the door, and called aloud to the sentinel, who had retired to the 
 farthest end of the passage, in order to avoid receiving any of that 
 spiritual comfort, which he felt was the sole property of another. 
 
 “ Let the woman of the house be called,” said Harvey, in the 
 solemn key of his assumed character ; “ and let her come alone. The 
 prisoner is in a happy train of meditation, and must not be led from 
 his devotions.” 
 
 Caesar sunk his face between his hands; and when the soldier 
 looked into the apartment, he thought he saw his charge in deep ab- 
 
380 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 straetion. Casting a glance of huge contempt at the divine, he called 
 aloud for the good woman of the house. She hastened at the sum- 
 mons, with earnest zeal, entertaining a secret hope that she was to 
 be admitted to the gossip of a death-bed repentance. 
 
 “ Sister,” said the minister, in the authoritative tones of a master, 
 “ have you in the house ‘ The Christian Criminal’s last Moments, or 
 Thoughts on Eternity, for them who die a violent Death ?’ ” 
 
 “ I never heard of the book !” said the matron in astonishment. 
 
 “’Tis not unlikely; there are many books you have never heard 
 of : it is impossible for this poor penitent to pass in peace, without 
 the consolations of that volume. One hour’s reading in it, is worth 
 an age of man’s preaching.” 
 
 “ Bless me, what a treasure to possess ! — when was it put 
 out?” 
 
 “ It was first put out at Geneva in the Greek language, and then 
 translated at Boston. It is a book, woman, that should be in the 
 hands of every Christian, especially such as die upon the gallows. 
 Have a horse prepared instantly for this black, who shall accompany 
 
 me to my Brother , and I will send down the volume yet in 
 
 season. — Brother, compose thy mind ; you are now in the narrow 
 path to glory.” 
 
 Caesar wriggled a little in his chair, but he had sufficient recollec- 
 tion to conceal his face with hands that were, in their turn, concealed 
 by gloves. The landlady departed, to comply with this very rea- 
 sonable request, and the group of conspirators were again left to 
 themselves. 
 
 “This is well,” said the pedler; “but the difficult task is to de- 
 ceive the officer who commands the guard — he is lieutenant to 
 Lawton, and has learned some of the Captain’s own cunning in these 
 things. Remember, Captain Wharton,” continued he, with an air 
 of pride, “ that now is the moment when every thing depends on 
 our coolness.” 
 
 “ My fate can be made but little worse than it is at present, my 
 
THE SPY 
 
 381 
 
 worthy fellow/’ said Henry; “but for your sake I will do all tha 
 in me lies.” 
 
 “ And wherein can I be more forlorn and persecuted than I no 
 am?” asked the pedler, with that wild incoherence which often 
 crossed his manner. “ But I have promised one to save you, and to 
 him I never have yet broken my word.” 
 
 “ And who is he ?” said Henry, with awakened interest 
 
 “No one.” 
 
 The man soon returned, and announced that the horses were at 
 the door. Harvey gave the Captain a glance, and led the way down 
 the stairs, first desiring the woman to leave the prisoner to himself, 
 in order that he might digest the wholesome mental food that he 
 had so lately received. 
 
 A rumour of the odd character of the priest had spread from the 
 sentinel at the door to his comrades; so that when Harvey and 
 Wharton reached the open space before the building, they found a 
 dozen idle dragoons loitering about, with the waggish intention of 
 quizzing the fanatic, and employed in affected admiration of the 
 steeds. 
 
 “ A fine horse !” said the leader in this plan of mischief ; “ but a 
 little low in flesh ; I suppose from hard labour in your calling.” 
 
 “ My calling may be laboursome to both myself and this faithful 
 beast, but then a day of settling is at hand, that will reward me for 
 all my outgoings and incomings,” said Birch, putting his foot in the 
 stirrup, and preparing to mount. 
 
 “You work for pay, then, as we fight for’t?” cried another of 
 the party. 
 
 “ Even so — ‘is not the labourer worthy of his hire ?’ ” 
 
 “ Come, suppose you give us a little preaching ; we have a leisure 
 moment just now, and there’s no telling how much good you might 
 do a set of reprobates like us, in a few words; here, mount this 
 horseblock, and take your text where you please.” 
 
 The men now gathered in eager delight around the pedler, who, 
 
382 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 glancing his eye expressively towards the Captain, who had been 
 suffered to mount, replied — 
 
 “ Doubtless, for such is my duty. But Caesar, you can ride up 
 the road and deliver the note — the unhappy prisoner will be want- 
 ing the book, for his hours are numbered.” 
 
 “ Ay — ay, go along, Caesar, and get the book,” shouted half a 
 dozen voices, all crowding eagerly around the ideal priest, in antici- 
 pation of a frolic. 
 
 The pedler inwardly dreaded, that, in their unceremonious hand- 
 ling of himself and garments, his hat and wig might be displaced, 
 when detection would be certain ; he was therefore fain to comply 
 with their request. Ascending the horseblock, after hemming once 
 or twice, and casting several glances at the Captain, who continued 
 immoveable, he commenced as follows : 
 
 u I shall call your attention, my brethren, to that portion of Scrip- 
 ture which you will find in the second book of Samuel, and which 
 is written in the following words : — ( Jlnd the king lamented over 
 Abner , and said , Died Abner as a fool dieth ? Thy hands were 
 not bound , nor thy feet put into fetters : as a man falleth before 
 wicked men , so fellest thou. And all the people wept again over 
 him ? Caesar, ride forward, I say, and obtain the book as directed; 
 thy master is groaning in spirit even now for the want of it.” 
 
 u An excellent text !” cried the dragoons. “ Go on — go on — 
 let the snowball stay ; he wants to be edified as well as another.” 
 
 “ What are you at there, scoundrels ?” cried Lieutenant Mason, 
 as he came in sight from a walk he had taken to sneer at the even- 
 ing parade of the regiment of militia ; u away with every man of 
 you to your quarters, and let me find that each horse is cleaned and 
 littered, when I come round.” The sound of the officer’s voice ope- 
 rated like a charm, and no priest could desire a more silent congre- 
 gation, although he might possibly have wished for one that was 
 more numerous. Mason had not done speaking, when it was re- 
 duced to the image of Csesar only. The pedler took that opportu- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 383 
 
 nity to mount, but be had to preserve the gravity of his movements, 
 for the remark of the troopers upon the condition of their beasts was 
 but too just, and a dozen dragoon horses stood saddled and bridled 
 at hand, ready to receive their riders, at a moment’s warning. 
 
 “Well, have you bitted the poor fellow within,” said Mason, 
 “ that he can take his last ride under the curb of divinity, old gen- 
 tleman ?” 
 
 “ There is evil in thy conversation, profane man,” cried the priest, 
 raising his hands, and casting his eyes upwards in holy horror ; “ so 
 I will depart from thee unhurt, as Daniel was liberated from the 
 lions’ den.” 
 
 “ Off with you, for a hypocritical, psalm-singing, canting rogue in 
 disguise,” said Mason, scornfully; “by the life of Washington ! it 
 worries an honest fellow to see such voracious beasts of prey ravaging 
 a country for which he sheds his blood. If I had you on a Virginia 
 plantation for a quarter of an hour, I ’d teach you to worm the to- 
 bacco, with the turkeys.” 
 
 “ I leave you, and shake the dust off my shoes, that no remnant 
 of this wicked hole may tarnish the vestments of the godly.” 
 
 “ Start, or I will shake the dust from your jacket, designing 
 knave ! A fellow to be preaching to my men ! There ’s Hollister 
 put the devil in them by his exhorting ; the rascals were getting too 
 conscientious to strike a blow that would rase the skin. But hold ! 
 whither do you travel, master blackey, in such godly company ?” 
 
 “ He goes,” said the minister, hastily speaking for his companion, 
 “ to return with a book of much condolence and virtue to the sinful 
 youth above, whose soul will speedily become white, even as his out- 
 wards are black and unseemly. Would you deprive a dying man of 
 the consolation of religion ?” 
 
 “No, no, poor fellow, his fate is bad enough; a famous good 
 breakfast his prim body of an aunt gave us. But harkee, Mr. Reve- 
 lations, if the youth must die secundum artem , let it be unde • a 
 gentleman’s directions; and my advice is, that you never trust that 
 
384 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 skeleton of yours among us again, or I will take the skin off and 
 leave you naked.” 
 
 “ Out upon thee for a reviler and scoffer of goodness !” said Birch, 
 moving slowly, and with a due observance of clerical dignity, down 
 the road, followed by the imaginary Caesar ; “ but I leave thee, and 
 that behind me that will prove thy condemnation, and take from 
 thee a hearty and joyful deliverance.” 
 
 “Damn him,” muttered the trooper; “the fellow rides like a 
 stake, and his legs stick out like the cocks of his hat. I wish I had 
 him below these hills, where the law is not over-particular, I ’d — ” 
 
 “ Corporal of the guard ! — corporal of the guard !” shouted the 
 sentinel in the passage to the chambers, “ corporal of the guard ! — 
 corporal of the guard !” 
 
 The subaltern flew up the narrow stairway that led to the room 
 of the prisoner, and demanded the meaning of the outcry. 
 
 The soldier was standing at the open door of the apartment, look- 
 ing in with a suspicious eye on the supposed British officer. On 
 observing his lieutenant, he fell back with habitual respect, and 
 replied, with an air of puzzled thought — 
 
 “I don’t know, sir; but just now the prisoner looked queer. 
 Ever since the preacher has left him, he don’t look as he used to do 
 — but,” gazing intently over the shoulder of his officer, “ it must be 
 him, too ! There is the same powdered head, and the darn in the 
 coat, where he was hit the day we had the last brush with the 
 enemy.” 
 
 “And then all this noise is occasioned by your doubting whether 
 that poor gentleman is your prisoner, or not, is it, sirrah ? Who the 
 devil do you think it can be, else ?” 
 
 “ I don’t know who else it can be,” returned the fellow, sullenly; 
 “ but he is grown thicker and shorter, if it is he ; and see for your- 
 self, sir, he shakes all over, like a man in an ague.” 
 
 This was but too true. Caesar was an alarmed auditor of this short 
 conversation, and, from congratulating himself upon the dexterous 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 385 
 
 escape of his young master, his thoughts were very naturally begin- 
 ning to dwell upon the probable consequences to his own person. The 
 pause that succeeded the last remark of the sentinel, in no degree con- 
 tributed to the restoration of his faculties. Lieutenant Mason was 
 busied in examining with his own eyes the suspected person of the 
 black, and Cassar was aware of the fact, by stealing a look through 
 a passage under one of his arms, that he had left expressly for the 
 purpose of reconnoitring. Captain Lawton would have discovered 
 the fraud immediately, but Mason was by no means so quick-sighted 
 as his commander. He therefore turned rather contemptuously to 
 the soldier, and, speaking in an under-tone, observed — 
 
 a That anabaptist, methodistical, quaker, psalm-singing rascal has 
 frightened the boy, with his farrago about flames and brimstone. 
 I T1 step in and cheer him with a little rational conversation.” 
 
 u I have heard of fear making a man white,” said the soldier, 
 drawing back, and staring as if his eyes would start from their sock- 
 ets, “ but it has changed the royal captain to a black !” 
 
 The truth was, that Caesar, unable to hear what Mason uttered in 
 a low voice, and having every fear aroused in him by what had al- 
 ready passed, incautiously removed the wig a little from one of his 
 ears, in order to hear the better, without in the least remembering 
 that its colour might prove fatal to his disguise. The sentinel had 
 kept his eyes fastened on his prisoner, and noticed the action. The 
 attention of Mason was instantly drawn to the same object; and, 
 forgetting all delicacy for a brother officer in distress, or, in short, 
 forgetting every thing but the censure that might alight on his corps, 
 the lieutenant sprang forward and seized the terrified African by the 
 throat ; for no sooner had Caesar heard his colour named, than he 
 knew his discovery was certain ; and at the first sound of Mason’s 
 heavy boot on the floor, he arose from his seat, and retreated preci- 
 pitately to a corner of the room. 
 
 “ Who are you ?” cried Mason, dashing the head of the old man 
 against the angle of the wall at each interrogatory, u who the devil 
 
 17 
 
386 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 are you, and where is the Englishman ? Speak, thou thundercloud ! 
 Answer me, you jackdaw, or I '11 hang you on the gallows of the 
 spy !” 
 
 Caesar continued firm. Neither the threats nor the blows could 
 extract any reply, until the Lieutenant, by a very natural transition 
 in the attack, sent his heavy boot forward in a direction that brought 
 it in direct contact with the most sensitive part of the negro - — his 
 shin. The most obdurate heart could not have exacted further 
 patience, and Caesar instantly gave in. The first words he spoke 
 were — 
 
 “ Golly ! Massa, you t’ink I got no feelin' ?” 
 
 “ By Heavens !” shouted the Lieutenant, “ it is the negro himself ! 
 Scoundrel ! where is your master, and who was the TDriest ?” While 
 speaking, he made a movement, as if about to renew the attack ; but 
 Caesar cried aloud for mercy, promising to tell all that he knew. 
 
 “ Who was the priest ?” repeated the dragoon, drawing back his 
 formidable leg, and holding it in threatening suspense — 
 
 “ Harvey, Harvey !” cried Caesar, dancing from one leg to the 
 other, as he thought each member in turn might be assailed. 
 
 “ Harvey who, you black villain V’ cried the impatient Lieutenant, 
 as he executed a full measure of vengeance by letting his leg fly. 
 
 “ Birch !” shrieked Caesar, falling on his knees, the tears rolling 
 in large drops over his shining face. 
 
 “ Harvey Birch 1" echoed the trooper, hurling the black from him, 
 and rushing from the room. u To arms ! to arms ! Fifty guineas 
 lor the life of the pedler spy — give no quarter to either. Mount, 
 mount ! to arms ! to horse !” 
 
 During the uproar occasioned by the assembling of the dragoons, 
 who all rushed tumultuously to their horses. Caesar rose from the 
 floor, where he had been thrown by Mason, and began to examine 
 into his injuries. Happily for himself, he had alighted on his head, 
 and consequently sustained no material damage. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 Away went Gilpin, neck or nought, 
 
 Away went hat and wig ; 
 
 He little dreamt, when he set out, 
 
 Of running such a rig. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 The road which it was necessary for the pedler and the English 
 captain to travel, in order to reach the shelter of the hills, lay, for a 
 half-mile, in full view from the door of the building that had so re- 
 cently been the prison of the latter ; running for the whole distance 
 over the rich plain, that spreads to the very foot of the mountains, 
 which here rise in a nearly perpendicular ascent from their bases ) 
 it then turned short to the right, and was obliged to follow the wind 
 ings of nature, as it won its way into the bosom of the Highlands. 
 
 To preserve the supposed difference in their stations, Harvey rode 
 a short distance ahead of his companion, and maintained the sober, 
 dignified pace, that was suited to his assumed character. On their 
 right, the regiment of foot, that we have already mentioned, lay in 
 tents ; and the sentinels who guarded their encampment were to be 
 seen moving with measured tread under the skirts of the hills them- 
 selves. 
 
 The first impulse of Henry was, certainly, To urge the beast he 
 rode to his greatest speed at once, and by a coup-de-main not only 
 accomplish his escape, but relieve himself from the torturing sus- 
 pense of his situation. But the forward movement that the youth 
 made for this purpose was instantly checked by the pedler. 
 
 u Hold up \” he cried, dexterously reining his own horse across 
 
388 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 the path of the other ; “ would you ruin us both ? Fall into the 
 place of a black, following his master. Did you not see their blooded 
 chargers, all saddled and bridled, standing in the sun before the 
 house ? How long do you think that miserable Dutch horse you 
 are on would hold his speed, if pursued by the Virginians ? Every 
 foot that we can gain, without giving the alarm, counts a day in our 
 lives. Ride steadily after me, and on no account look back. They 
 are as subtle as foxes, ay, and as ravenous for blood as wolves !” 
 Henry reluctantly restrained his impatience, and followed the di- 
 rection of the pedler. His imagination, however, continually alarmed 
 him with the fancied sounds of pursuit; though Birch, who occa- 
 sionally looked back under the pretence of addressing his companion, 
 assured him that all continued quiet and peaceful. 
 
 “ But,” said Henry, “ it will not be possible for Csesar to remain 
 long undiscovered. Had we not better put our horses to the gallop, 
 and by the time they can reflect on the cause of our flight, we can 
 reach the corner of the woods ?” 
 
 “ Ah ! you little know them, Captain Wharton,” returned the 
 pedler ; “ there is a sergeant at this moment looking after us, as if 
 he thought all was not right ; the keen-eyed fellow watches me like 
 a tiger lying in wait for his leap. When I stood on the horseblock, 
 he half suspected that something was wrong. Nay, check your 
 beast — we must let the animals walk a little, for he is laying his 
 hand on the pommel of his saddle. If he mounts, we are gone. 
 The foot-soldiers could reach us with their muskets.” 
 
 “ What does he now ?” asked Henry, reining his horse to a walk, 
 but at the same time pressing his heels into the animals sides, to 
 be in readiness for a spring. 
 
 “He turns from his charger, and looks the other way; now trot 
 Dn gently — not so fast — not so fast. Observe the sentinel in the 
 field, a little ahead of us — he eyes us keenly.” 
 
 “Never mind the footman,” said Henry, impatiently; “he :an 
 do nothing but shoot us — whereas these dragoons may make me a 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 389 
 
 captive again. Surely, Harvey, there are horse moving down the 
 road behind us. Do you see nothing particular ?” 
 
 “ Humph !” ejaculated the pedler; “ there is something particular 
 indeed, to be seen behind the thicket on our left. Turn your head 
 a little, and you may see and profit by it too.” 
 
 Henry eagerly seized this permission to look aside, and the blood 
 curdled to his heart as he observed that they were passing a gallows, 
 which unquestionably had been erected for his own execution. He 
 turned his face from the sight, in undisguised horror. 
 
 “ There is a warning to be prudent,” said the pedler, in the sen- 
 tentious manner that he often adopted. 
 
 “ It is a terrific sight, indeed !” cried Henry, for a moment veiling 
 his eyes with his hand, as if to drive a vision from before him. 
 
 The pedler moved his body partly around, and spoke with ener- 
 getic but gloomy bitterness — “And yet, Captain Wharton, you see 
 it where the setting sun shines full upon you; the air you breathe 
 is clear, and fresh from the hills before you. Every step that you 
 take leaves that hated gallows behind ; and every dark hollow, and 
 every shapeless rock in the mountains, offers you a hiding place from 
 the vengeance of your enemies. But I have seen the gibbet raised, 
 when no place of refuge offered. Twice have I been buried in dun- 
 geons, where, fettered and in chains, I have passed nights in torture, 
 looking forward to the morning’s dawn that was to light me to a 
 death of infamy. The sweat has started from limbs that seemed 
 already drained of their moisture; and if I ventured to the hole 
 that admitted air through grates of iron to look out upon the smiles 
 of nature, which Grod has bestowed for the meanest of his creatures, 
 the gibbet has glared before my eyes, like an evil conscience harrow- 
 ing the soul of a dying man. Four times have I been in their power, 
 besides this last; but — twice — did I think my hour had come. It 
 is hard to die at the best, Captain Wharton; but to spend your last 
 moments alone and unpitied, to know that none near you so much as 
 think of the fate that is to you the closing of all that is earthly ; to 
 
390 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 think. that in a few hours, you are to be led from the gloom, whielr 
 as you dwell on what follows, becomes dear to you, to the face of 
 day, and there to meet all eyes fixed upon you, as if you were a wild 
 beast; and to lose sight of every thing amidst the jeers and scoffs 
 of your fellow-creatures — that, Captain Wharton, that indeed is to 
 die 1” 
 
 Henry listened in amazement, as his companion uttered this speed) 
 with a vehemence altogether new to him ; both seemed to have for- 
 gotten their danger and their disguises. 
 
 “ What ! were you ever so near death as that ?” 
 
 “ Have I not been the hunted beast of these hills for three years 
 past?” resumed Harvey; “and once they even led me to the foot 
 of the gallows itself, and I escaped only by an alarm from the royal 
 troops. Had they been a quarter of an hour later, I must have 
 died. There was I placed in the midst of unfeeling men, and gaping 
 women and children, as a monster to be cursed. When I would 
 pray to God, my ears were insulted with the history of my crimes ; 
 and when, in all that multitude, I looked around for a single face 
 that showed me any pity, I could find none — no, not even one ; all 
 cursed me as a wretch who would sell his country for gold. The 
 sun was brighter to my eyes than common — but it was the last time 
 I should see it. The fields were gay and pleasant, and every thing 
 seemed as if this world was a kind of heaven. Oh ! how sweet life 
 was to me at that moment ! *T was a dreadful hour, Captain Whar- 
 ton, and such as you have never known. You have friends to feel 
 for you, but I had none but a father to mourn my loss, when he 
 might hear of it; but there was no pity, no consolation near, to 
 soothe my anguish. Every thing seemed to have deserted me. I 
 even thought that iie had forgotten that I lived.” 
 
 “ Whsft. ! did you feel that God himself had forsaken you, Harvey ?” 
 “ God never forsakes his servants,” returned Birch, with reverence, 
 and exhibiting naturally a devotion that hitherto he had only assumed. 
 “And who did you mean by he?” 
 
T HE S P V. 
 
 391 
 
 The pedler raised himself in his saddle to the stiff and upright 
 posture that was suited to his outward appearance, The look of fire, 
 that for a short time glowed on his countenance, disappeared in the 
 solemn lines of unbending self-abasement, and, speaking as if ad- 
 dressing a negro, he replied — 
 
 u In heaven there is no distinction of colour, my brother ; there- 
 fore you have a precious charge within you, that you must hereafter 
 render an account of ;” dropping his voice — “ this is the last sentinel 
 near the road ; look not back, as you value your life.” 
 
 Henry remembered his situation, and instantly assumed the hum- 
 ble demeanour of his adopted character. The unaccountable energy 
 of the pedler’ s manner was soon forgotten in the sense of his own 
 immediate danger; and with the recollection of his critical situation, 
 returned all the uneasiness that he had momentarily forgotten. 
 
 “ What see you, Harvey ?” he cried, observing the pedler to gaze 
 towards the building they had left, with ominous interest ; “ what 
 see you at the house ?” 
 
 “ That which bodes no good to us,” returned the pretended priest. 
 “ Throw aside the mask and wig ; you will need all your senses with- 
 out much delay ; throw them in the road : there are none before us 
 that I dread, but there are those behind who will give us a fearful 
 race !” 
 
 “ Nay, then,” cried the Captain, casting the implements of his 
 disguise into the highway, “ let us improve our time to the utmost. 
 W e want a full quarter to the turn ; why not push for it, at once ?” 
 u Be cool ; they are in alarm, but they will not mount without an 
 officer, unless they see us fly — now he comes, he moves to the sta- 
 bles ; trot briskly ; a dozen are in their saddles, but the officer stops 
 to tighten his girths; they hope to steal a march upon us; he is 
 mounted; now ride, Captain Wharton, for your life, andjkeep at my 
 heels. If you quit me, you will be lost !” 
 
 A second request was unnecessary. The instant that Harvey put 
 Ills horse to his speed. Captain Wharton was at his heels, urging the 
 
392 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 miserable animal he rode to the utmost. Birch had selected his own 
 beast; and although vastly inferior to the high-fed and blooded 
 chargers of the dragoons, still it was much superior to the little 
 pony that had been thought good enough to carry Caesar Thompson 
 on an errand. A very few jumps convinced the Captain that his 
 companion was fast leaving him, and a fearful glance thrown behind, 
 informed the fugitive that his enemies were as speedily approaching. 
 With that abandonment that makes misery doubly grievous, when it 
 is to be supported alone, Henry cried aloud to the pedler not to de- 
 sert him. Harvey instantly drew up, and suffered his companion to 
 run alongside of his own horse. The cocked hat and wig of the 
 pedler fell from his head the moment that his steed began to move 
 briskly, and this developement of their disguise, as it might be 
 termed, was witnessed by the dragoons, who announced their obser- 
 vation by a boisterous shout, that seemed to be uttered in the very 
 ears of the fugitives ; so loud was the cry, and so short the distance 
 between them. 
 
 “ Had we not better leave our horses ?” said Henry, u and make 
 for the hills across the fields, on our left ? — the fence will stop our 
 pursuers.” 
 
 u That way lies the gallows,” returned the pedler; “ these fellows 
 go three feet to our two, and would mind the fences no more than 
 we do these ruts ; but it is a short quarter to the turn, and there are 
 tw r o roads behind the wood. They may stand to choose until they 
 can take the track, and we shall gain a little upon them there.” 
 
 “ But this miserable horse is blown already,” cried Henry, urging 
 his beast with the end of his bridle, at the same time that Harvey 
 aided his efforts by applying the lash of a heavy riding-whip he 
 carried ; u he will never stand it for half a mile farther.” 
 
 “ A quarter will do; a quarter will do,” said the pedler; “a single 
 quarter will save us, if you follow my directions.” 
 
 Somewhat cheered by the cool and confident manner of his com- 
 panion, Henry coi tinued silently urging his horse forward. A few 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 393 
 
 moments brought them to the desired turn, and as they doubled 
 round a point of low under-brush, the fugitives caught a glimpse 
 of their pursuers scattered along the high-way. Mason and the 
 sergeant, being better mounted than the rest of the party, were 
 much nearer to their heels than even the pedler thought could be 
 possible. 
 
 At the foot of the hills, and for some distance up the dark valley 
 that wound among the mountains, a thick underwood of saplings had 
 been suffered to shoot up, where the heavier growth was felled for 
 the sake of the fuel. At the sight of this cover, Henry again urged 
 the pedler to dismount, and to plunge into the woods ; but his re- 
 quest was promptly refused. The two roads, before mentioned, met 
 at a very sharp angle, at a short distance from the turn, and both 
 were circuitous, so that but little of either could be seen at a time. 
 The pedler took the one which led to the left, but held it only a 
 moment; for, on reaching a partial opening in the thicket, he darted 
 across into the right-hand path, and led the way up a steep ascent, 
 which lay directly before them. This manoeuvre saved them. On 
 reaching the fork, the dragoons followed the track, and passed the 
 spot where the fugitives had crossed to the other road, before they 
 missed the marks of the footsteps. Their loud Ties were heard by 
 Henry and the pedler, as their wearied and breathless animals toiled 
 up the hill, ordering their comrades in the rear to ride in the right 
 direction. The Captain again proposed to leave their horses and 
 dash into the thicket. 
 
 “Not yet, not yet,” said Birch, in a low voice; “the road falls 
 from the top of this hill as steep as it rises; first let us gain the top.” 
 While speaking, they reached the desired summit, and both threw 
 themselves from their horses, Henry plunging into the thick under- 
 wood, which covered the side of the mountain for some distance above 
 them. Harvey stopped to give each of their beasts a few severe 
 blows of his whip, that drove them headlong down the path on the 
 other side of the eminence, and then followed his example. 
 
 17 * 
 
394 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 The pedler entered the thicket with a little caution, and avoided, 
 as much as possible, rustling or breaking the branches in his way 
 There was but time only to shelter his person from view, when a 
 dragoon led up the ascent; and on reaching the height, he cried 
 aloud — 
 
 “ I saw one of their horses turning the hill this minute.” 
 
 “ Drive on ; spur forward, my lads,” shouted Mason ; “ give the 
 Englishman quarter, but cut down the pedler, and make an end of 
 him.” 
 
 Henry felt his companion gripe his arm hard, as he listened in a 
 great tremor to this cry, which was followed by the passage of a 
 dozen horsemen, with a vigour and speed that showed too plainly 
 how little security their over-tired steeds could have afforded 
 them. 
 
 “ Now,” said the pedler, rising from the cover to reconnoitre, and 
 standing for a moment in suspense, “ all that we gain is (dear gain ; 
 for, as we go up, they go down. Let us be stirring.” 
 
 “ But will they not follow us, and surround this mountain ?” said 
 Henry, rising, and imitating the laboured but rapid progress of his 
 companion ; “ remember, they have foot as well as horse, and, at any 
 rate, we shall starve in the hills.” 
 
 “ Fear nothing, Captain Wharton,” returned the pedler, with con- 
 fidence ; “ this is not the mountain that I would be on, but necessity 
 has made me a dexterous pilot among these hills. I will lead you 
 where no man will dare to follow. See, the sun is already setting 
 behind the tops of the western mountains, and it will be two hours 
 to the rising of the moon. Who, think you, will follow us far, on a 
 November night, among these rocks and precipices ?” 
 
 “ Listen !” exclaimed Henry; “the dragoons are shouting to each 
 other ; they miss us already.” 
 
 “ Come to the point of this rock, and you may see them,” said 
 Harvey, composedly seating himself down to rest. “ Nay, they can 
 see us — observe, they are pointing up with their fingers There ! 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 395 
 
 one has fired his pistv>l, but the distance is too great even for a 
 musket.” 
 
 “They will pursue utf,” cried the impatient Henry; “let us be 
 moving.” 
 
 “ They will not think of such a thing,” returned the pedler, pick 
 ing the chicker-berries that grew on the thin soil where he sat, and 
 very deliberately chewing them, leaves and all, to refresh his mouth. 
 “ What progress could they make here, in their heavy boots and 
 spurs, and long swords? No, no — they may go back and turn out 
 the foot, but the horse pass through these defiles, when they can 
 keep the saddle, with fear and trembling. Come, follow me, Cap- 
 tain Wharton ; we have a troublesome march before us, but I will 
 bring you where none will think of venturing this night.” 
 
 So saying, they both arose, and were soon hid from view amongst 
 the rocks and caverns of the mountain. 
 
 The conjecture of the pedler was true. Mason and his men dashed 
 down the hill, in pursuit, as they supposed, of their victims, but on 
 reaching the bottom lands, they found only the deserted horses of 
 the fugitives. Some little time was spent in examining the woods 
 near them, and in endeavouring to take the trail on such ground as 
 might enable the horse to pursue, when one of the party descried 
 the pedler and Henry seated on the rock already mentioned. 
 
 “He’s off,” muttered Mason, eyeing Harvey, with fury; “he’s 
 off, and we are disgraced. By heavens, Washington will not trust 
 us with the keeping of a suspected tory, if we let the rascal trifle in 
 this manner with the corps; and there sits the Englishman, too, 
 looking down upon us with a smile of benevolence ! I fancy that ] 
 can see it. Well, well, my lad, you are comfortably seated, I wil) 
 confess, and that is something better than dancing upon nothing : 
 but you are not to the west of the Harlaem river yet, and I’ll try 
 your wind before you tell Sir Henry what you have seen, or I’m no 
 soldier.” 
 
396 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ Shall I fire, and frighten the pedler ?” asked one of the men, 
 drawing his pistol from the holster. 
 
 “ Ay, startle the birds from their perch — let us see how they can 
 use the wing.” The man fired the pistol, and Mason continued — 
 “’Fore George, I believe the scoundrels laugh at us. But home- 
 ward, or we shall have them rolling stones upon our heads, and the 
 Boyal Gazettes teeming with an account of a rebel regiment routed 
 by two loyalists. They have told bigger lies than that, before 
 now.” 
 
 The dragoons moved sullenly after their officer, who rode towards 
 their quarters, musing on the course it behoved him to pursue in the 
 present dilemma. It was twilight when Mason’s party reached the 
 dwelling, before the door of which were collected a great number of 
 the officers and men, busily employed in giving and listening to the 
 most exaggerated accounts of the escape of the spy. The mortified 
 dragoons gave their ungrateful tidings with the sullen air of disap- 
 pointed men; and most of the officers gathered round Mason, to 
 consult of the steps that ought to be taken. Miss Peyton and Fran- 
 ces were breathless and unobserved listeners to all that passed be- 
 tween them, from the window of the chamber immediately above 
 their heads. 
 
 “ Something must be done, and that speedily,” observed the com- 
 manding officer of the regiment, which lay encamped before the 
 house : “ this English officer is doubtless an instrument in the great 
 blow aimed at us by the enemy lately ; besides, our honour is in- 
 volved in his escape.” 
 
 “Let us beat the woods!” cried several at once ; “by morning 
 we shall have them both again.” 
 
 “Softly, softly, gentlemen,” returned the Colonel; “no man can 
 travel these hills after dark, unless used to the passes. Nothing but 
 horse can do service in this business, and I presume Lieutenant 
 Mason hesitates to move without the orders of his major.” 
 
 “I certainly dare not,” replied the subaltern, gravely shaking his 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 397 
 
 head, u unless you will take the responsibility of an order ; but Ma- 
 jor Dunwoodie will be back again in two hours, and we can carry 
 the tidings through the hills before daylight ; so that by spreading 
 patrols across, from one river to the other, and offering a reward to 
 the country people, their escape will yet be impossible, unless they 
 can join the party that is said to be out on the Hudson.” 
 
 u A very plausible plan,” cried the Colonel, u and one that must 
 succeed; but let a messenger be despatched to Dunwoodie, or he 
 may continue at the ferry until it proves too late ; though doubtless 
 the runaways will lie in the mountains to-night.” 
 
 To this suggestion Mason acquiesced, and a courier was sent to the 
 Major with the important intelligence of the escape of Henry, and 
 an intimation of the necessity of his presence to conduct the pursuit. 
 After this arrangement, the officers separated. 
 
 When Miss Peyton and her niece first learnt the escape of Cap- 
 tain Wharton, it was with difficulty they could credit their senses. 
 They both relied so implicitly on the success of Dunwoodie’ s exer- 
 tions, that they thought the act, on the part of their relative, ex- 
 tremely imprudent ; but it was now too late to mend it. While 
 listening to the conversation of the officers, both were struck with 
 the increased danger of Henry’s situation, if re-captured, and they 
 trembled to think of the great exertions that would be made to ac- 
 complish this object. Miss Peyton consoled herself, and endeavoured 
 to cheer her niece, with the probability that the fugitives would 
 pursue their course with unremitting diligence, so that they might 
 reach the Neutral Ground before the horse would carry down the 
 tidings of their flight. The absence of Dunwoodie seemed to her 
 all-important, and the artless lady was anxiously devising some pro- 
 ject that might detain her kinsman, and thus give her nephew the 
 longest possible time. But very different were the reflections of 
 Prances. She could no longer doubt that the figure she had seen 
 on the hill was Birch, and she felt certain that, instead of flying to 
 
398 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 the friendly forces below, her brother would be taken to the myste- 
 rious hut to pass the night. 
 
 Frances and her aunt held a long and animated discussion by 
 themselves, when the good spinster reluctantly yielded to the repre- 
 sentation of her niece, and, folding her in her arms, she kissed her 
 cold cheek, and, fervently blessing her, allowed her to depart on an 
 errand of fraternal love. 
 
 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 And here, forlorn and lost, 1 tread. 
 
 With fainting- steps, and slow; 
 
 Where wilds, immeasurably spread, 
 
 Seem length’ning- as I go. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 The night had set in dark and chilling, as Frances Wharton, with a 
 beating heart but light step, moved through the little garden that 
 lay behind the farm-house which had been her brother’s prison, and 
 took her way to the foot of the mountain, where she had seen the 
 figure of him she supposed to be the pedler. It was still early, but 
 the darkness and the dreary nature of a November evening would, 
 at any other moment, or with less inducement to exertion, have 
 driven her back in terror to the circle she had left. Without pausing 
 to reflect, however, she flew over the ground with a rapidity that 
 seemed to bid defiance to all impediments, nor stopped even to 
 breathe, until she had gone half the distance to the rock that she 
 had marked as the spot where Birch made his appearance on that 
 very morning. 
 
 The good treatment of their women is the surest evidence that a 
 people can give of their civilization ; and there is no nation which 
 has more to boast of, in this respect, than the Americans. Frances 
 felt but little apprehension from the orderly and quiet troops who 
 were taking their evening’s repast on the side of the highway, oppo- 
 site to the field through which she was flying. They were her coun- 
 trymen, and she knew that her sex would be respected by the Eastern 
 militia, who composed this body; but in the volatile and reckless 
 
400 
 
 THE spy. 
 
 character of the Southern horse she had less confidence. Outrages 
 of any description were seldom committed by the really American 
 soldiery; but she recoiled, with exquisite delicacy, from even the 
 appearance of humiliation. When, therefore, she heard the footsteps 
 of a horse moving slowly up the road, she shrank, timidly, into a 
 little thicket of wood which grew around the spring that bubbled 
 from the side of a hillock near her. The vidette, for such it proved 
 to be, passed her without noticing her form, which was so enveloped 
 as to be as little conspicuous as possible, humming a low air to him- 
 self, and probably thinking of some other fair that he had left on the 
 banks of the Potomac. 
 
 Frances listened anxiously to the retreating footsteps of his horse, 
 and, as they died upon her ear, she ventured from her place of se- 
 crecy, and advanced a short distance into the field, where, startled 
 at the gloom, and appalled with the dreariness of the prospect, she 
 paused to reflect on what she had undertaken. Throwing back the 
 hood of her cardinal, she sought the support of a tree, and gazed to- 
 wards the summit of the mountain that was to be the goal of her 
 enterprise. It rose from the plain like a huge pyramid, giving no- 
 thing to the eye but its outlines. The pinnacle could be faintly 
 discerned in front of a lighter back-ground of clouds, between which 
 a few glimmering stars occasionally twinkled in momentary bright- 
 ness, and then gradually became obscured by the passing vapour 
 that was moving before the wind, at a vast distance below the clouds 
 themselves. Should she return, Henry and the pedler would most 
 probably pass the night in fancied security upon that very hill, to- 
 wards which she was straining her eyes, in the vain hope of observing 
 some light that might encourage her to proceed. The deliberate, and 
 what to her seemed cold-blooded, project of the officer for the re- 
 capture of the fugitives, still rang in her ears, and stimulated her to 
 go on ; but the solitude into which she must venture, the time, the 
 actual danger of the ascent, and the uncertainty of her finding the 
 but, or what was still more disheartening, the chance that it might 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 401 
 
 be occupied by unknown tenants, and those of the worst description 
 • — urged her to retreat. 
 
 The increasing darkness was each moment rendering objects less 
 and less distinct, and the clouds were gathering more gloomily in the 
 rear of the hill, until its form could no longer be discerned. Frances 
 threw back her rich curls with both hands on her temples, in order 
 to possess her senses in their utmost keenness ; but the towering hill 
 was entirely lost to the eye. At length she discovered a faint and 
 twinkling blaze in the direction in which she thought the building 
 stood, that by its reviving and receding lustre, might be taken for 
 the glimmering of a fire. But the delusion vanished, as the horizon 
 again cleared, and the star of evening shone forth from a cloud, after 
 struggling hard, as if for existence. She now saw the mountain to 
 the left of the place where the planet was shining, and suddenly a 
 streak of mellow light burst upon the fantastic oaks that were thinly 
 scattered over its summit, and gradually moved down its side, until 
 the whole pile became distinct under the rays of the rising moon. 
 Although it would have been physically impossible for our heroine 
 to advance without the aid of the friendly light, which now gleamed 
 on the long line of level land before her, yet she was not encouraged 
 to proceed. If she could see the goal of her wishes, she could also 
 perceive the difficulties that must attend her reaching it. 
 
 While deliberating in distressing incertitude, now shrinking with 
 the timidity of her sex and years from the enterprise, and now re- 
 solving to rescue her brother at every hazard, Frances turned her 
 looks towards the east, in earnest gaze at the clouds which constantly 
 threatened to involve her again in comparative darkness. Had an 
 adder stung her, she could not have sprung with greater celerity 
 than she recoiled from, the object against which she was leaning, and 
 which she, for the first time, noticed. The two upright posts, with a 
 cross-beam on their tops, and a rude platform beneath, told but toe 
 plainly the nature of the structure ; even the cord was suspended 
 from an iron staple, and was swinging, to and fro, in the night air. 
 
402 
 
 T HE SPY. 
 
 Frances hesitated no longer, but rather flew than ran across the 
 meadow, and was soon at the base of the rock, where she hoped to 
 find something like a path to the summit of the mountain. Here 
 she was compelled to pause for breath, and she improved the leisure 
 by surveying the ground about her. The ascent was quite abrupt, 
 but she soon found a sheep-path that wound among the shelving 
 rocks and through the trees, so as to render her labour much less 
 tiresome than it otherwise would have been. Throwing a fearful 
 glance behind, the determined girl commenced her journey upwards. 
 Young, active, and impelled by her generous motive, she moved up 
 the hill with elastic steps, and very soon emerged from the cover of 
 the woods, into an open space of more level ground, that had evi- 
 dently been cleared of its timber, for the purpose of cultivation. But 
 either the war, or the sterility of the soil, had compelled the adven- 
 turer to abandon the advantages that he had obtained over the wil- 
 derness, and already the bushes and briers were springing up afresh, 
 as if the plough had never traced its furrows through the mould 
 which nourished them. 
 
 Frances felt her spirits invigorated by these faint vestiges of the 
 labour of man, and she walked up the gentle acclivity, with renewed 
 hopes of success. The path now diverged in so many different direc- 
 tions, that she soon saw it would be useless to follow their windings, 
 and abandoning it, at the first turn, she laboured forward towards 
 what she thought was the nearest point of the summit. The cleared 
 ground was soon past, and woods and rocks, clinging to the preci- 
 pitous sides of the mountain, again opposed themselves to her pro- 
 gress. Occasionally, the path was to be seen running along the verge 
 of the clearing, and then striking off into the scattering patches of 
 grass and herbage, but in no instance could she trace it upward. 
 Tufts of wool, hanging to the briers, sufficiently denoted the origin 
 of these tracks, and Frances rightly conjectured that whoever de- 
 scended the mountain, would avail himself of their existence, to 
 lighten the labour. Seating herself on a stone, the wearied girl 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 403 
 
 again paused to rest and to reflect : the clouds were rising before 
 the moon ; and the whole scene at her feet lay pictured in the softest 
 colours. 
 
 The white tents of the militia were stretched in regular lines, im- 
 mediately beneath her. The light was shining in the window of hei 
 aunt, who, Frances easily fancied, was watching the mountain, racked 
 with all the anxiety she might be supposed to feel for her niece. 
 Lanterns were playing about in the stable-yard, where she knew the 
 horses of the dragoons were kept, and believing them to be preparing 
 for their night march, she again sprang upon her feet, and renewed 
 her toil. 
 
 Our heroine had to ascend more than a quarter of a mile farther, 
 although she had already conquered two-tliirds of the height of the 
 mountain. But she was now without a path, or any guide to direct 
 her in her course. Fortunately, the hill was conical, like most of 
 the mountains in that range, and, by advancing upwards, she was 
 certain of at length reaching the desired hut, which hung, as it were, 
 on the very pinnacle. Nearly an hour did she struggle with the 
 numerous difficulties that she was obliged to overcome, when, having 
 been repeatedly exhausted with her efforts, and, in several instances, 
 in great danger from falls, she succeeded in gaining the small piece 
 of table-land on the summit. 
 
 Faint with her exertions, which had been unusually severe for so 
 slight a frame, she sank on a rock, to recover her strength and forti- 
 tude for the approaching interview. A few moments sufficed for this 
 purpose, when she proceeded in quest of the hut. All of the neigh- 
 bouring hills were distinctly visible by the aid of the moon, and 
 Frances was able, where she stood, to trace the route of the high- 
 way, from the plains into the mountains. By following this line 
 with her eyes, she soon discovered the point whence she had seen 
 the mysterious dwelling, and directly opposite to that point she well 
 (mew tne hut must stand. 
 
 The chilling air sighed through the leafless branches of the gnarled 
 
404 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 /. 
 
 and crooked oaks, as with a step so light as hardly to rustle the dry 
 leaves on which she trod, Frances moved forward to that part of the 
 hill where she expected to find this secluded habitation ; but nothing 
 could she discern that in the least resembled a dwelling of any sort. 
 In vain she examined every recess of the rocks, or inquisitively ex- 
 plored every part of the summit that she thought could hold the 
 tenement of the pedler. No hut, nor any vestige of a human being, 
 could she trace. The idea of her solitude struck on the terrified 
 mind of the affrighted girl, and approaching to the edge of a shelv- 
 ing rock, she bent forward to gaze on the signs of life in the vale, 
 when a ray of keen light dazzled her eyes, and a warm air diffused 
 itself over her whole frame. Recovering from her surprise, Frances 
 looked on the ledge beneath her, and at once perceived that she stood 
 directly over the object of her search. A hole through its roof 
 afforded a passage to the smoke, which as it blew aside, showed her 
 a clear and cheerful fire crackling and snapping on a rude hearth of 
 stone. The approach to the front of the hut was by a winding path 
 around the point of the rock on which she stood, and by this she 
 advanced to its door. 
 
 Three sides of this singular edifice, if such it could be called, were 
 composed of logs laid alternately on each other, to a little more than 
 the height of a man ; and the fourth was formed by the rock against 
 which it leaned. The roof was made of the bark of trees, laid in 
 long strips from the rock to its eaves; the fissures between the logs 
 had been stuffed with clay, which in many places had fallen out, and 
 dried leaves were made use of as a substitute to keep out the wind. 
 A single window of four panes of glass was in front, but a board 
 carefully closed it, in such a manner as to emit no light, from the 
 fire within. After pausing some time to view this singularly con- 
 structed hiding-place, for such Frances well knew it to be, she ap- 
 plied her eye to a crevice to examine the inside. There was no lamp 
 or candle, but the blazing fire of dry wood made the interior of the 
 hut light enough to read by. In one corner lay a bed of straw, with 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 405 
 
 a pair of blankets thrown carelessly over it, as if left where they 
 had last been used. Against the walls and rock were suspended, 
 from pegs forced intu the crevices, various garments, and such as 
 were apparently fitted for all ages and conditions, and for either sex. 
 British and American uniforms hung peaceably by the side of each 
 other ; and on the peg that supported a gown of striped calico, such 
 as was the usual country wear, was also depending a well-powdered 
 wig : in short, the attire was numerous, and as various as if a whole 
 parish were to be equipped from this one wardrobe. 
 
 In the angle against the rock, and opposite to the fire which was 
 burning in the other corner, was an open cupboard, that held a plate 
 or two, a mug, and the remains of some broken meat. Before the 
 fire was a table, with one of its legs fractured, and made of rough 
 boards ; these, with a single stool, composed the furniture, if we ex- 
 cept a few articles of cooking. A book that, by its size and shape, 
 appeared to be a Bible, was lying on the table, unopened. But it 
 was the occupant of the hut in whom Frances was chiefly interested. 
 This was a man, sitting on the stool, with his head leaning on his 
 hand, in such a manner as to conceal his features, and deeply occu- 
 pied in examining some open papers. On the table lay a pair of 
 curiously and richly mounted horseman’s pistols, and the handle of 
 a sheathed rapier, of exquisite workmanship, protruded from between 
 the legs of the gentleman, one of whose hands carelessly rested on 
 its guard. The tall stature of this unexpected tenant of the hut, 
 and his form, much more athletic than that of either Harvey or her 
 brother, told Frances, without the aid of his dress, that it was neither 
 of those she sought. A close surtout was buttoned high in the 
 throat of the stranger, and parting at his knees, showed breeches of 
 buff, with military boots and spurs. His hair was dressed so as to 
 expose the whole face; and, after the fashion of that day, it was 
 profusely powdered. A round hat was laid on the stones that formed 
 a paved floor to the hut, as if to make room for a large map, which, 
 among the other papers, occupied the table. 
 
406 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 This was an unexpected event to our adventurer. She had been 
 so confident that the figure twice seen was the pedler, that on learn- 
 ing his agency in her brother’s escape, she did not in the least doubt 
 of finding them both in the place, which, she now discovered, was 
 occupied by another and a stranger. She stood, earnestly looking 
 through the crevice, hesitating whether to retire, or to wait with the 
 expectation of yet meeting Henry, as the stranger moved his hand 
 from before his eyes, and raised his face, apparently in deep musing, 
 when Frances instantly recognised the benevolent and strongly 
 marked, but composed, features of Harper. 
 
 All that Dunwoodie had said of his power and disposition ; all 
 that he had himself promised her brother, and all the confidence 
 that had been created by his dignified and paternal manner, rushed 
 across the mind of Frances, who threw open the door of the hut, and 
 falling at his feet, clasped his knees with her arms, as she cried — 
 
 “ Save him — save him — save my brother ; remember your pro- 
 mise, and save him !” 
 
 Harper had risen as the door opened, and there was a slight move- 
 ment of one hand towards his pistols ; but it was cool, and instantly 
 checked. He raised th^hood of the cardinal, which had fallen over 
 her features, and exclaimed, with some uneasiness — 
 
 “ Miss Wharton ! But you cannot be alone ?” 
 u There is none here but my God and you ; and by his sacred 
 name, I conjure you to remember your promise, and save my bro- 
 ther I” 
 
 Harper gently raised her from her knees, and placed her on the 
 stool, begging her at the same time to be composed, and to acquaint 
 him with the nature of her errand. This Frances instantly did, in- 
 genuously admitting him to a knowledge of all her Hews in visiting 
 that lone spot at such an hour, and by herself. 
 
 It was at all times difficult to probe the thoughts of one who held 
 his passions in such disciplined subjection as Harper, but still there 
 was a lighting of his thoughtful eye, and a slight unbending of his 
 
THE STY. 
 
 407 
 
 muscles, as the hurried and anxious girl proceeded in her narrative. 
 His interest, as she dwelt upon the manner of Henry’s escape, and 
 the flight to the woods, was deep and manifest, and he listened to 
 the remainder of her tale with a marked expression of benevolent 
 indulgence. Her apprehensions, that her brother might still be too 
 late through the mountains, seemed to have much weight with him, 
 for, as she concluded, he walked a turn or two across the hut, in 
 silent musing. 
 
 Frances hesitated, and unconsciously played with the handle of 
 one of the pistols, and the paleness that her fears had spread over 
 her fine features began to give place to a rich tint, as, after a short 
 pause, she added — 
 
 u We can depend much on the friendship of Major Dunwoodie, 
 but his sense of honour is so pure, that — that — notwithstanding 
 his — his — feelings — his desire to serve us — he will conceive it 
 to be his duty to apprehend my brother again. Besides, he thinks 
 there will be no danger in so doing, as he relies greatly on your in- 
 terference.” 
 
 Cl On mine !” said Harper, raising his eyes in surprise. 
 
 u Yes, on yours. When we told him of your kind language, he 
 at once assured us all, that you had the power, and if you had pro- 
 mised, would have the inclination, to procure Henry’s pardon.” 
 
 “ Said he more ?” asked Harper, who appeared slightly uneasy. 
 
 “ Nothing but reiterated assurances of Henry’s safety; even now 
 ho is in quest of you.” 
 
 u Miss Wharton, that I bear no mean part, in the unhappy strug- 
 gle between England and America, it might now be useless to deny. 
 You owe your brother’s escape, this night, to my knowledge of his 
 innocence, and the remembrance of my word. Major Dunwoodie is 
 mistaken, when he says that I might openly have procured his par- 
 don. I now, indeed, can control his fate, and I pledge to you a 
 word which has some influence with Washington, that means shall 
 be taken to prevent his re-capture. But from you, also, I exact a 
 
408 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 promise, that this interview, and all that has passed between us, re- 
 main confined to your own bosom, until you have my permission to 
 speak upon the subject.” 
 
 Frances gave the desired assurance, and he continued — 
 u The pedler and your brother will soon be here, but I must not 
 be seen by the royal officer, or the life of Birch might be the for- 
 feiture.” 
 
 “ Never!” cried Frances, ardently; “ Henry could never be so 
 base as to betray the man who saved him.” 
 
 “ It is no childish game that we are now playing, Miss Wharton. 
 Men’s lives and fortunes hang upon slender threads, and nothing 
 must be left to accident that can be guarded against. Did Sir Henry 
 Clinton know that the pedler had communion with me, and under 
 such circumstances, the life of the miserable man would be taken 
 instantly ; therefore, as you value human blood, or remember the 
 rescue of your brother, be prudent, and be silent. Communicate 
 what you know to them both, and urge them to instant departure. 
 If they can reach the last pickets of our army before morning, it 
 shall be my care that there are none to intercept them. There is 
 better work for Major Dunwoodie than to be exposing the life of his 
 friend.” 
 
 While Harper was speaking, he carefully rolled up the map he 
 had been studying, and placed it, together with sundry papers that 
 were also open, into his pocket. He was still occupied in this man- 
 ner, when the voice of the pedler, talking in unusually loud tones, 
 was heard directly over their heads. 
 
 “ Stand further this way, Captain Wharton, and you can see the 
 tents, in the moonshine. But let them mount and ride ; I have a 
 nest, here, that will hold us both, and we will go in at our leisure.” 
 u And where is this nest Z I confess that I have eaten but little 
 the last two days, and I crave some of the cheer you mention ” 
 
 “ Hem !” said the pedler, exerting his voice still more ; u hem — 
 this fog nas given me a cold ; but move slow — and be careful not 
 
THE S P Y . 
 
 409 
 
 to slip, or you may land on the bayonet of the sentinel on the hats ; 
 ’tis a steep hill to rise, but one can go down it with ease.” 
 
 Harper pressed his finger on his lip, to remind Frances of her 
 promise, and, taking his pistols and hat, so that no vestige of his 
 visit remained, he retired deliberately to a far corner of the hut, 
 where, lifting several articles of dress, he entered a recess in the 
 rock, and, letting them fall again, was hid from view. Frances no- 
 ticed, by the strong fire-light, as he entered, that it was a natural 
 cavity, and contained nothing but a few more articles of domestic use. 
 
 The surprise of Henry and the pedler, on entering and finding 
 Frances in possession of the hut, may be easily imagined. Without 
 waiting for explanations or questions, the warm-hearted girl flew into 
 the arms of her brother, and gave a vent to her emotions in tears. 
 But the pedler seemed struck with very different feelings. His first 
 look was at the fire, which had been recently supplied with fuel ; he 
 then drew open a small drawer of the table, and looked a little 
 alarmed at finding it empty. 
 
 “Are you alone, Miss Fanny/” he asked, in a quick voice; “you 
 did not come here alone ?” 
 
 “As you see me, Mr. Birch,” said Frances, raising herself from 
 her brother’s arms, and turning an expressive glance towards the 
 secret cavern, that the quick eye of the pedler instantly understood. 
 
 “ But why and wherefore are you here ?” exclaimed her astonished 
 brother ; “ and how knew you of this place at all ?” 
 
 Frances entered at once into a brief detail of what had occurred at 
 the house since their departure, and the motives which induced her 
 to seek them. 
 
 “ But,” said Birch, “ why follow us here, when we were left on 
 the opposite hill?” 
 
 Frances related the glimpse that she had caught of the hut and 
 pedler, in her passage through the Highlands, as well as her view 
 of him on that day, and her immediate conjecture that the fugitives 
 would seek the shelter of this habitation for the night. Birch exa- 
 
 18 
 
410 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 mined her features as, with open ingenuousness, she related the sim- 
 ple incidents that had made her mistress of his secret; and, as she 
 ended, he sprang upon his feet, and, striking the window with the 
 stick in his hand, demolished it at a blow. 
 
 “’Tis but little luxury or comfort that I know,” he said, “ but. 
 even that little cannot be enjoyed in safety! Miss Wharton,” he 
 added, advancing before Fanny, and speaking with the hitter melan- 
 choly that was common to him, “ I am hunted through these hills 
 like a beast of the forest ; but whenever, tired with my toils, I can 
 reach this spot, poor and dreary as it is, I can spend my solitary 
 nights in safety. Will you aid to make the life of a wretch still 
 more miserable ?” 
 
 “ Never!” cried Frances, with fervour; “your secret is safe 
 with me.” 
 
 “ Major Dunwoodie — ” said the pedler, slowly, turning an eye * 
 upon her that read her soul. 
 
 Frances lowered her head upon her bosom, for a moment, in 
 shame ; then, elevating her fine and glowing face, she added, with 
 enthusiasm — 
 
 “ Never, never, Harvey, as God may hear my prayers !” 
 
 The pedler seemed satisfied ; for he drew back, and, watching his 
 opportunity, unseen by Henry, slipped behind the screen, and entered 
 the cavern. 
 
 Frances and her brother, who thought his companion had passed 
 through the door, continued conversing on the latter’s situation for 
 several minutes, when the former urged the necessity of expedition 
 on his part, in order to precede Dunwoodie, from whose sense of 
 duty they knew they had no escape. The Captain took out his 
 pocket-book, and wrote a few lines with his pencil ; then folding the 
 paper, he handed it to his sister. 
 
 “Frances,” he said, “you have this night proved yourself to be 
 an incomparable woman. As you love me, give that unopened to 
 Dunwoodie, and remember that two hours may save my life.” 
 
THE spy, 
 
 411 
 
 “I will — I will; but why delay? Why not fly, and improve 
 these precious moments?” 
 
 “Your sister says well, Captain Wharton,” exclaimed Harvey, 
 who had re-entered unseen; “we must go at once. Here is food to 
 eat, as we travel.” 
 
 “ But who is to see this fair creature in safety?” cried the Captain. 
 “ I can never desert my sister in such a place as this.” 
 
 “ Leave me ! leave me !” said Frances ; “ I can descend as I came 
 up. Do not doubt me ; you know not my courage nor my strength.” 
 
 “ I have not known you, dear girl, it is true ; but now, as I learn 
 your value, can I quit you here ? Never, never !” 
 
 “ Captain Wharton,” said Birch, throwing open the door, “ you 
 can trifle with your own lives, if you have many to spare ; I have 
 but one, and must nurse it. Do I go alone, or not ?” 
 
 “ Go, go, dear Henry,” said Frances, embracing him ; “ go ; re- 
 member our father; remember Sarah.” She waited not for his 
 answer, but gently forced him through the door, and closed it with 
 her own hands. 
 
 For a short time there was a warm debate between Henry and the 
 pedler ; but the latter finally prevailed, and the breathless girl heard 
 the successive plunges, as they went down the sides of the mountain 
 at a rapid rate. 
 
 Immediately after the noise of their departure had ceased, Harper 
 re-appeared. He took the arm of Frances in silence, and led her 
 from the hut. The way seemed familiar to him ; for, ascending to 
 the ledge above them, he led his companion across the table-land 
 tenderly, pointing out the little difficulties in their route, and cau- 
 tioning her against injury. 
 
 Frances felt, as she walked by the side of this extraordinary man, 
 that she was supported by one of no common stamp. The firmness 
 of his step, and the composure of his manner, seemed to indicate a 
 mind settled and resolved. By taking a route over the back of the 
 hill, they descended with great expedition, and but little danger 
 
412 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 The distance it had taken Frances an hour to conquer, was passed 
 by Harper and his companion in ten minutes, and they entered the 
 open space already mentioned. He struck into one of the sheep- 
 paths, and, crossing the clearing with rapid steps, they came suddenly 
 upon a horse, caparisoned for a rider of no mean rank. The noble 
 beast snorted and pawed the earth, as his master approached and 
 replaced the pistols in the holsters. 
 
 Harper then turned, and, taking the hand of Frances, spoke as 
 follows : — 
 
 “ You have this night saved your brother, Miss Wharton. It 
 would not be proper for me to explain why there are limits to my 
 ability to serve him ; but if you can detain the horse for two hours, 
 he is assuredly safe. After what you have already done, I can be- 
 lieve you equal to any duty. God has denied to me children, young 
 lady; but if it had been his blessed will that my marriage should 
 not have been childless, such a treasure as yourself would I have 
 asked from his mercy. But you are my child : all who dwell in this 
 broad land are my children, and my care ; and take the blessing of 
 one who hopes yet to meet you in happier days.” 
 
 As he spoke, with a solemnity that touched Frances to the heart, 
 he laid his hand impressively upon her head. The guileless girl 
 turned her face towards him, and the hood again falling back, ex- 
 posed her lovely features to the moonbeams. A tear was glistening 
 on either cheek, and her mild blue eyes were gazing upon him in 
 reverence. Harper bent and pressed a paternal kiss upon her fore- 
 head, and continued — “Any of these sheep-paths will take you to 
 the plain ; but here we must part — I have much to do, and far to 
 ride ; forget me in all but your prayers.” 
 
 He then mounted his horse, and lifting his hat, rode towards the 
 back of the mountain, descending at the same time, and was soon 
 hid by the trees. Frances sprang forward with a lightened heart, 
 and taking the first path that led downwards, in a few minutes she 
 reached the plain in safety. While busied in stealing through the 
 
T HE S P Y. 
 
 413 
 
 meadows towards the house, the noise of horse approaching startled 
 her, and she felt how much more was to be apprehended from man, 
 in some situations, than from solitude. Hiding her form in the 
 angle of a fence near the road, she remained quiet for a moment, 
 and watched their passage. A small party of dragoons, whose dress 
 was different from the Virginians, passed at a brisk trot. They 
 were followed by a gentleman, enveloped in a large cloak, whom she 
 at once knew to be Harper. Behind him rode a black in livery, 
 and two youths in uniform brought up the rear. Instead of taking 
 the road that led by the encampment, they turned short to the left, 
 and entered the hills. 
 
 Wondering who this unknown but powerful friend of her brother 
 could be, Frances glided across the fields, and using due precautions 
 in approaching the dwelling, regained her residence undiscovered 
 and in safety. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Hence, bashful cunning 
 And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ; 
 
 I am your wife, if you will marry me. 
 
 Tempest. 
 
 On joining Miss Peyton, Frances learnt that Dunwoodie was ao 1 
 yet returned * although, with a view to relieve Henry from the irm 
 portunities of the supposed fanatic, he had desired a very respectable 
 divine of their own church to ride up from the river and offer his 
 services. This gentleman was already arrived, and had been passing 
 the half-hour he had been there, in a sensible and well-bred conver- 
 sation with the spinster, that in no degree touched upon their do- 
 mestic affairs. 
 
 To the eager enquiries of Miss Peyton, relative to her success in 
 her romantic excursion, Frances could say no more than that she 
 was bound to be silent, and to recommend the same precaution to 
 the good maiden also. There was a smile playing around the beau- 
 tiful mouth of Frances, while she uttered this injunction, which 
 satisfied her aunt that all was as it should be. She was urging her 
 niece to take some refreshment after her fatiguing expedition, when 
 the noise of a horseman riding to the door, announced the return of 
 the Major. He had been found by the courier, who was despatched 
 by Mason, impatiently waiting the return of Harper to the ferry, 
 and immediately flew to the place where his friend had been con- 
 fined, tormented by a thousand conflicting fears. The heart of 
 Frances bounded as she listened to his approaching footsteps. It 
 wanted yet an hour to the termination of the shortest period that the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 415 
 
 pedler had fixed as the time necessary to effect his escape Even 
 Harper, powerful and well-disposed as he acknowledged himself to 
 be, had laid great stress upon the importance of detaining the Vir- 
 ginians during that hour. She, however, had not time to rally her 
 thoughts, before Dunwoodie entered one door, as Miss Peyton, with 
 the readiness of female instinct, retired through another. 
 
 The countenance of Peyton was flushed, and an air of vexation 
 and disappointment pervaded his manner. 
 
 “ ? Twas imprudent, Frances; nay, it was unkind,” he cried, 
 throwing himself in a chair, “ to fly at the very moment that I had 
 assured him of safety ! I can almost persuade myself that you de- 
 light in creating points of difference in our feelings and duties.” 
 
 “ In our duties there may very possibly be a difference,” returned 
 his mistress, approaching, and leaning her slender form against the 
 wall; “but not in our feelings, Peyton. You must certainly rejoice 
 in the escape of Henry!” 
 
 “ There was no danger impending. He had the promise of Har- 
 per ; and it is a word never to be doubted. Oh ! Frances I Frances ! 
 had you known the man, you would never have distrusted his assu- 
 rance; nor would you have again reduced me to this distressing 
 alternative.” 
 
 “ What alternative ?” asked Frances, pitying his emotions deeply, 
 but eagerly seizing upon every circumstance to prolong the interview. 
 
 “ What alternative ! am I not compelled to spend this night in 
 the saddle to recapture your brother, when I had thought to lay 
 my head on its pillow, with the happy consciousness of having con- 
 tributed to his release ? You make me seem your enemy; I, who 
 would cheerfully shed the last drop of blood in your service. I 
 repeat, Frances, it was rash ; it was unkind ; it was a sad, sad mis- 
 take.” 
 
 She bent towards him, and timidly took one of his hands, while 
 with the other she gently removed the curls from his burning brow 
 
 “Why go at all, dear Peyton?” she asked. “You have done 
 
416 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 much for your country, and she cannot exact such a sacrifice as thi< 
 at your hand.” 
 
 “ Frances ! Miss Wharton !” exclaimed the youth, springing on 
 his feet, and pacing the floor with a cheek that burnt through its 
 brown covering, and an eye that sparkled with wounded integrity ; 
 “ it is not my country, but my honour, that requires the sacrifice. 
 Has he not fled from a guard of my own corps? Bat for this, I 
 might have been spared the blow ! But if the eyes of the Virgi- 
 nians are blinded to deception and artifice, their horses are swift of 
 foot, and their sabres keen. We shall see, before to-morrow’s sun, 
 who will presume to hint that the beauty of the sister furnished a 
 mask to conceal the brother ! Yes, yes; I should like, even now,” 
 he continued, laughing bitterly, “ to hear the villain who would dare 
 to surmise that such treachery existed !” 
 
 “ Peyton, dear Peyton,” said Frances, recoiling from his angry 
 eye, “ you curdle my blood — would you kill my brother ?” 
 
 “ Would 1 not die for him i” exclaimed Dunwoodie, as he turned 
 to her more mildly; “you know I would; but I am distracted with 
 the cruel surmise to which this step of Henry’s subjects me. What 
 will Washington think of me, should he learn that I ever became 
 your husband ?” 
 
 “ If that alone impels you to act so harshly towards my brother,” 
 returned Frances, with a slight tremor in her voice, “ let it never 
 happen for him to learn.” 
 
 “ And this is consolation, Frances !” 
 
 “ Nay, dear Dunwoodie, I meant nothing harsh or unkind ; but 
 are you not making us both of more consequence with Washington 
 than the truth will justify ?” 
 
 “ I trust that my name is not entirely unknown to the Commander- 
 in-chief,” said the Major, a little proudly; “nor are you as obscure 
 as your modesty would make you. I believe you, Frances, when 
 you say that you pity me, and it must be my task to continue worthy 
 of such feelings. But I waste the precious moments ; we must go 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 417 
 
 through the hills to-night, that we may be refreshed in time for the 
 duly of to-morrow. Mason is already waiting my orders to mount. 
 Frances, I leave you with a heavy heart ; pity me, but feel no con- 
 cern for your brother; he must again become a prisoner, but every 
 hair of his head is sacred.” 
 
 “ Stop ! Dunwoodie, I conjure you,” cried Frances, gasping for 
 breath, as she noticed that the hand of the clock still wanted many 
 minutes to the desired hour; “ before you go on your errand of 
 fastidious duty, read this note that Henry has left for you, and 
 which, doubtless, he thought he was writing to the friend of his 
 youth.” 
 
 “ Frances, I excuse your feelings; but the time will come when 
 you will do me justice.” 
 
 “ That time is now,” she answered, extending her hand, unable 
 any longer to feign a displeasure that she did not feel. 
 
 “ Where got you this note ?” exclaimed the youth, glancing his 
 eyes over its contents. “ Poor Henry, you are indeed my friend ! 
 If any one wishes me happiness, it is you !” 
 
 “ He does, he does,” cried Frances, eagerly ; “ he wishes you 
 every happiness ; believe what he tells you ; every word is true.” 
 
 “ I do believe him, lovely girl, and he refers me to you for its 
 confirmation. Would that I could trust equally to your affections !” 
 
 “ You may, Peyton,” said Frances, looking up with innocent con 
 fidence towards her lover. 
 
 “Then read for yourself, and verify your words,” interrupted 
 Dunwoodie, holding the note towards her. 
 
 Frances received it in astonishment, and read the following : — 
 
 “ Life is too precious to be trusted to uncertainties. I leave you , 
 Peyton , unknown to all but Ccesar , and I recommend him to your 
 mercy. But there is a care that weighs me to the earth. Look at 
 my aged and infirm parent. He will be reproached for the sup- 
 posed crime of his son. Look at those helpless sisters that I leave 
 
 behind me ivithout a protector. Prove to me that you love us all. 
 
 18 * 
 
418 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Let the clergyman whom you will bring with you , unite you this 
 night to Frances , and become at once , brother , son, and husband .” 
 
 The paper fell from the hands of Frances, and she endeavoured 
 to raise her eyes to the face of Dunwoodie, but they sank abashed 
 to the floor. 
 
 “ Am I worthy of this confidence ? Will you send me out this 
 night, to meet my own brother ? or will it be the officer of Congress 
 in quest of the officer of Britain ?” 
 
 “And would you do less of your duty because I am your wife, 
 Major Dunwoodie? in what degree would it better the condition of 
 Henry ?” 
 
 “ Henry, I repeat, is safe. The word of Harper is his guarantee ; 
 but I will show the world a bridegroom,” continued the youth, per- 
 haps deceiving himself a little, “ who is equal to the duty of arrest- 
 ing the brother of his bride.” 
 
 “And will the world comprehend this refinement ?” said Frances, 
 with a musing air, that lighted a thousand hopes in the bosom of her 
 lover. In fact, the temptation was mighty. Indeed, there seemed 
 no other way to detain Dunwoodie until the fatal hour had elapsed. 
 The words of Harper himself, who had so lately told her that openly 
 he could do but little for Henry, and that every thing depended 
 upon gaining time, were deeply engraved upon her memory. Per- 
 haps there was also a fleeting thought of the possibility of an eternal 
 separation from her lover, should he proceed and bring back her 
 brother to punishment. It is difficult at all times to analyse human 
 emotions, and they pass through the sensitive heart of a woman with 
 the rapidity and nearly with the vividness of lightning. 
 
 “ Why do you hesitate, dear Frances ?” cried Dunwoodie, who 
 was studying her varying countenance ; “a few minutes might give 
 me a husband’s claim to protect you.” 
 
 Frances grew giddy. She turned an anxious eye to the clock, 
 and the hand seemed to linger over its face, as if with intent to tor- 
 ture her. 
 
THE a P Y . 
 
 419 
 
 u Speak, Frances,” murmured Dunwoodie ; “ may I summon my 
 good kinswoman ? determine, for time presses.” 
 
 She endeavoured to reply, but could only whisper something that 
 was inaudible, but which her lover, with the privilege of immemorial 
 custom, construed into assent. He turned and flew to the doc 
 when his mistress recovered her voice — 
 
 “ Stop, Peyton ! I cannot enter into such a solemn engagement 
 with a fraud upon my conscience. I have seen Henry since his 
 escape, and time is all-important to him. Here is my hand ; if, with 
 this knowledge of the consequences of delay, you will not reject it, 
 it is freely yours.” 
 
 u Beject it !” cried the delighted youth ; u I take it as the richest 
 gift of Heaven. There is time enough for us all. Two hours will 
 take me through the hills ; and by noon, to-morrow, I will return 
 with Washington’s pardon for your brother, and Henry will help to 
 enliven our nuptials.” 
 
 u Then meet me here, in ten minutes,” said Frances, greatly re- 
 lieved by unburthening her mind, and filled with the hope of securing 
 Henry’s safety, u and I will return and take those vows, which will 
 bind me to you for ever.” 
 
 Dunwoodie paused only to press her once to his bosom, and flew 
 to communicate his wishes to the priest. 
 
 Miss Peyton received the avowal of her niece with infinite aston- 
 ishment, and a little displeasure. It was violating all the order and 
 decorum of a wedding to get it up so hastily, and with so little cere- 
 mony. But Frances, with modest firmness, declared that her resolu- 
 tion was taken ; she had long possessed the consent of her friends, 
 and their nuptials, for months, had only waited her pleasure. She 
 had now promised Dunwoodie, and it was her wish to comply ; more 
 she dare not say without committing herself, by entering into expla- 
 nations that might endanger Birch, or Harper, or both. Unused to 
 contention, and really much attached to her kinsman, the feeble 
 objections of Miss Peyton gave way to the firmness of her niece. 
 
420 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Mr. Wharton was too completely a convert to the doctrine of pas 
 sive obedience and non-resistance, to withstand any solicitation from 
 an officer of Dunwoodie’s influence in the rebel armies; and the 
 maid returned to the apartment, accompanied by her father and aunt, 
 at the expiration of the time that she had fixed. Dunwoodie and 
 the clergyman were already there. Frances, silently, and without 
 the affectation of reserve, placed in his hand the wedding-ring of hei 
 own mother, and after some little time spent in arranging Mr. Whar- 
 ton and herself, Miss Peyton suffered the ceremony to proceed. 
 
 The clock stood directly before the eyes of Frances, and she 
 turned many an anxious glance at the dial ; but the solemn language 
 of the priest soon caught her attention, and her mind became intent 
 upon the vows she was uttering. The ceremony was quickly over, 
 and as the clergyman closed the words of benediction, the clock told 
 the hour of nine. This was the time that Harper had deemed so 
 important, and Frances felt as if a mighty load was at once removed 
 from her heart. 
 
 Dunwoodie folded her in his arms, saluted the mild aunt again 
 and again, and shook Mr. Wharton and the divine repeatedly by the 
 hands. In the midst of the felicitation, a tap was heard at the door 
 It was opened, and Mason appeared. 
 
 “We are in the saddle,” said the Lieutenant, “and, with your 
 permission, I will lead on; as you are so well mounted, you can 
 overtake us at your leisure.” 
 
 “Yes, yes, my good fellow; march,” cried Dunwoodie, gladly 
 seizing an excuse to linger ; “ I will reach you at the first halt.” 
 
 The subaltern retired to execute these orders ; he was followed by 
 Mr. Wharton and the divine. 
 
 “Now, Peyton,” said Frances, “it is indeed a brother that you 
 seek ; I am sure I need not caution you in his behalf, should you 
 unfortunately find him.” 
 
 “ Say fortunately,” cried the youth ; “ for I am determined he 
 shall yet dance at my wedding. Would that I could win him to out 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 42 L 
 
 cause ! it is the cause of his country ; and I could fight with more 
 pleasure ; Frances, with your brother by my side.” 
 
 “ Oh ! mention it not ! you awaken terrible reflections.” 
 
 “ I will not mention it,” retui ned her husband ; “ but I must now 
 leave you. But the sooner I go, Frances, the sooner I shall return.” 
 
 The noise of a horseman was heard approaching the house, and 
 Dunwoodie was yet taking leave of his bride and her aunt, when an 
 officer was shown into the room by his own man. 
 
 The gentleman wore the dress of an aid-de-camp, and the Major 
 at once knew him to be one of the military family of Washington. 
 
 “ Major Dunwoodie,” he said, after bowing to the ladies, “ the 
 Commander-in-chief has directed me to give you these orders.” 
 
 He executed his mission, and, pleading duty, took his leave im- 
 mediately. 
 
 “Here, indeed!” cried the Major, “is an unexpected turn in the 
 whole affair; but I understand it; Harper has got my letter, and 
 already we feel his influence.” 
 
 “ Have you news affecting Henry ?” cried Frances, springing to 
 his side. 
 
 “Listen, and you shall judge.” 
 
 “ Sir — Upon the receipt of this , you will concentrate your 
 squadron , so as to he in front of a covering party which the enemy 
 has sent up in front of his foragers , by ten o'clock to-morrow , on 
 the heights of Croton , where you will find a body of foot to support 
 you. The escape of the English spy has been reported to me , but 
 his arrest is unimportant . , compared with the duty I now assign you. 
 You will , therefore , recall your men , if any are in pursuit , and en- 
 deavour to defeat the enemy forthwith. 
 
 “ Your obedient Servant . 
 
 “Geo. Washington.” 
 
 “ Thank God !” cried Dunwoodie, “ my hands are washed of 
 Henry’s recapture ; I can now move to my duty with honour.” 
 
 “And with prudence too, dear Peyton,” said Frances, with a face 
 
422 
 
 T II E SPY. 
 
 as pale as death; u remember, Dunwoodie, you leave behind you 
 new claims on your life.” 
 
 The youth dwelt on her lovely but pallid features with rapture ) 
 and, as he folded her to his heart, exclaimed — 
 
 “ For your sake, I will, lovely innocent l” Frances sobbed a mo- 
 ment on his bosom, and he tore himself from her presence. 
 
 Miss Peyton retired with her niece, to whom she conceived it ne- 
 cessary, before they separated for the night, to give an admonitory 
 lecture on the subject of matrimonial duty. Her instruction was 
 modestly received, if not properly digested. We regret that history 
 has not handed down to us this precious dissertation ; but the result 
 of all our investigation has been to learn that it partook largely of 
 those peculiarities which are said to tincture the rules prescribed to 
 govern bachelors’ children. We shall now leave the ladies of the 
 Wharton family, and return to Captain Wharton and Harvey Birch. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Allow him not a parting word ; 
 
 Short be the shrift, and sure the cord ! 
 
 Rokehy 
 
 The pedler and his companion soon reached the valley, and after 
 pausing to listen, and hearing no sounds which announced that pur- 
 suers were abroad, they entered the highway. Acquainted witn 
 every step that led through the mountains, and possessed of sinews 
 inured to toil, Birch led the way, with the lengthened strides that 
 were peculiar to the man and his profession ; his pack alone was 
 wanting to finish the appearance of his ordinary business air. At 
 times, when they approached one of those little posts held by the 
 American troops, with which the Highlands abounded, he would 
 take a circuit to avoid the sentinels* and plunge fearlessly into a 
 thicket, or ascend a rugged hill, that to the eye seemed impassable. 
 But the pedler was familiar with every turn in their difficult route, 
 knew where the ravines might be penetrated, or where the streams 
 were fordable. In one or two instances, Henry thought that their 
 further progress was absolutely at an end, but the ingenuity, or 
 knowledge, of his guide, conquered every difficulty. After walking 
 at a great rate for three hours, they suddenly diverged from the road, 
 which inclined to the east, and held their course directly across the 
 hills, in a due south direction. This movement was made, the 
 pedler informed his companion, in order to avoid the parties who 
 constantly patroled in the southern entrance of the Highlands, as 
 well as to shorten the distance, by travelling in a straight line. After 
 
424 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 reaching the summit of a hill, Harvey seated himself by the side ol 
 a little, run, and opening a wallet, that he had slung where his pack 
 was commonly suspended, he invited his comrade to partake of the 
 coarse fare it contained. Henry had kept pace with the pedler, 
 more by the excitement natural to his situation, than by the equality 
 of his physical powers. The idea of a halt was unpleasant, so long 
 as there existed a possibility of the horse getting below him, in time 
 to intercept their retreat through the neutral ground. He, therefore, 
 stated his apprehensions to his companion, and urged a wish to proceed. 
 
 u Follow my example, Captain Wharton,” said the pedler, com- 
 mencing his frugal meal ; u if the horse have started, it will be more 
 than man can do to head them ; and if they have not, work is cut 
 out for them, that will drive all thoughts of you and me from their 
 brains.” 
 
 “ You said yourself, that two hours’ detention wad all-important 
 to us, and if we loiter here, of what use will be the advantage that 
 we may have already obtained?” 
 
 u The time is passed, and Major Dunwoodie thinks little of fol- 
 lowing two men, when hundreds are waiting for him on the banks 
 of the river.” 
 
 u Listen !” interrupted Henry ; u there are horse at this moment 
 passing the foot of the hill. I hear them even laughing and talk- 
 ing to each other Hist ! there is the voice of Dunwoodie himself ; 
 he calls to his comrade in a manner that shows but little uneasiness. 
 One would think that the situation of his friend would lower his 
 spirits; surely Frances could not have given him the letter.” 
 
 On hearing the first exclamation of the Captain, Birch arose from 
 his seat, and approached cautiously to the brow of the h 11, taking 
 care to keep his body in the shadow of the rocks, so as to be unseen 
 at any distance, and earnestly reconnoitred the group of passing 
 horsemen. He continued listening, until their quick footsteps were 
 no longer audible, and then quietly returned to his seat, and with 
 incomparable coolness resumed his meal. 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 425 
 
 u You have a long walk, and a tiresome one, before you, Captain 
 Wharton ; you had better do as I do — you were eager for food at 
 the hut above Fishkill, but travelling seems to have worn down your 
 appetite.” 
 
 u I thought myself safe then, but the information of my sister 
 fills me with uneasiness, and I cannot eat.” 
 
 u You have less reason to be troubled now than at any time since 
 the night before you were taken, when you refused my advice, and 
 an offer to see you in, in safety,” returned the pedler. u Major 
 Dunwoodie is not a man to laugh and be gay, when his friend is in 
 difficulty. Come, then, and eat, for no horse will be in our way, if 
 we can hold our legs for four hours longer, and the sun keeps behind 
 the hills as long as common.” 
 
 There was a composure in the pedler’ s manner that encouraged 
 his companion ; and having once determined to submit to Harvey’s 
 government, he suffered himself to be persuaded into a tolerable 
 supper, if quantity be considered without any reference to the qua- 
 lity. After completing their repast, the pedler resumed his 
 journey. 
 
 Henry followed in blind submission to his will. For two hours 
 more they struggled with the difficult and dangerous passes of the 
 Highlands, without road, or any other guide than the moon, which 
 was travelling the heavens, now wading through flying clouds, and 
 now shining brightly. At length they arrived at a point where the 
 mountains sunk into rough and unequal hillocks, and passed at once 
 from the barren sterility of the precipices, to the imperfect culture 
 of the neutral ground. 
 
 The pedler now became more guarded in the manner in which 
 they proceeded, and took divers precautions to prevent meeting any 
 moving parties of the Americans. With the stationary posts he was 
 too familiar to render it probable he might fall upon any of them 
 unawares. He wound among the hills and vales, now keeping the 
 highways and now avoiding them, with a precision that seemed in- 
 
426 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 stinctive. There was nothing elastic in his tread, but he glided 
 over the ground with enormous strides, and a body bent forward, 
 without appearing to use exertion, or know weariness. 
 
 The moon had set, and a faint streak of light was beginning to 
 show itself in the east. Captain Wharton ventured to express a 
 sense of fatigue, and to enquire if they were not yet arrived at a 
 part of the country, where it might be safe to apply at some of the 
 farm-houses for admission. 
 
 “ See here,” said the pedler, pointing to a hill, at a short distance 
 in their rear ; “ do you not see a man walking on the point of that 
 rock ? Turn, so as to bring the daylight in the range — now, see, 
 he moves, and seems to be looking earnestly at something to the 
 eastward. That is a royal sentinel; two hundred of the rigTar 
 troops lay on that hill, no doubt sleeping on their arms.” 
 
 “Then,” cried Henry, “let us join them, and our danger is 
 ended.” 
 
 “ Softly, softly, Captain Wharton,” said the pedler, drily, “ you \e 
 once been in the midst of three hundred of them, but there was a 
 man who could take you out; see you not yon dark body, on the 
 side of the opposite hill, just above the corn-stalks ? There are the 
 — the rebels, (since that is the word for us loyal subjects,) waiting 
 only for day, to see who will be master of the ground.” 
 
 “Nay, then,” exclaimed the fiery youth, “I will join the troops 
 of my prince, and share their fortunes, be it good or be it bad.” 
 
 “You forget that you fight with a halter round your neck; no, 
 no — I have promised one whom I must not disappoint, to carry 
 you safe in ; and unless you forget what I have already done, and 
 what I have risked for you, Captain Wharton, you will turn and 
 follow me to Ilarlaem.” 
 
 To this appeal the youth felt unwillingly obliged to submit ; and 
 they continued their course towards the city. It was not long before 
 they gained the banks of the Hudson. After searching for a short 
 time under the shore, the pedler discovered a skiff, that appeared to 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 427 
 
 be an old acquaintance ; and entering it with his companion, he 
 landed him on the south side of the Croton. Here Birch declared 
 they were in safety j for the royal troops held the continentals at 
 bay, and the former were out in too great strength , for the light 
 parties of the latter to trust themselves below that river, on the im- 
 mediate banks of the Hudson. 
 
 Throughout the whole of this arduous flight, the pedler had mani- 
 fested a coolness and presence of mind that nothing appeared to dis- 
 turb. All his faculties seemed to be of more than usual perfection, 
 and the infirmities of nature to have no dominion over him. Henry 
 had followed him like a child in leading-strings, and he now reaped 
 his reward, as he felt a bound of pleasure at his heart, on hearing 
 that he was relieved from apprehension, and permitted to banish 
 every doubt of security. 
 
 A steep and laborious ascent brought them from the level of the 
 tide-waters to the high lands, that form, in this part of the river, 
 the eastern banks of the Hudson. Be tiring a little from the high- 
 way, under the shelter of a thicket of cedars, the pedler threw his 
 form on a flat rock, and announced to his companion that the hour 
 for rest and refreshment was at length arrived. The day was now 
 opened, and objects could be seen in the distance, with distinctness. 
 Beneath them lay the Hudson, stretching to the south in a straight 
 line, as far as the eye could reach. To the north, the broken frag- 
 ments of the Highlands threw upwards their lofty heads, above 
 masses of fog that hung over the water, and by which the course of 
 the river could be traced into the bosom of hills, whose conical 
 summits were grouping together, one behind another, in that disor- 
 der which might be supposed to have succeeded their gigantic, but 
 fruitless, efforts to stop the progress of the flood. Emerging from 
 these confused piles, the river, as if rejoicing at its release from the 
 struggle, expanded into a wide bay, which was ornamented by a few 
 fertile and low points that jutted humbly into its broad basin. On 
 the opposite, or western shore, the rocks of Jersey were gathered into 
 
428 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 an array that has obtained for them the name of the u palisadoes” 
 elevating themselves for many hundred feet, as if to protect the rich 
 country in their rear from the inroads of the conqueror ; but, dis- 
 daining such an enemy, the river swept proudly by their feet, and 
 held its un deviating way to the ocean. A ray of the rising sun 
 darted upon the slight cloud that hung over the placid river, and at 
 once the whole scene was in motion, changing and assuming new 
 forms, and exhibiting fresh objects in each successive moment. At 
 the daily rising of this great curtain of nature, at the present time, 
 scores of white sails and sluggish vessels are seen thickening on the 
 water, with that air of life which denotes the neighbourhood to the 
 metropolis of a great and flourishing empire ; but to Henry and the 
 pedler it displayed only the square yards and lofty masts of a vessel 
 of war, riding a few miles below them. Before the fog had begun 
 to move, the tall spars were seen above it, and from one of them a 
 long pennant was feebly borne abroad in the current of night air, 
 that still quivered along the river ; but as the smoke arose, the black 
 hull, the crowded and complicated mass of rigging, and the heavy 
 yards and booms, spreading their arms afar, were successively brought 
 into view. 
 
 u There, Captain Wharton,” said the pedler, u there is a safe rest- 
 ing-place for you ; America has no arm that can reach you, if you 
 gain the deck of that ship. She is sent up to cover the foragers, and 
 support the troops ; the rigTar officers are fond of the sound of can- 
 non from their shipping.” 
 
 Without condescending to reply to the sarcasm conveyed in this 
 speech, or perhaps not noticing it, Henry joyfully acquiesced in the 
 proposal, and it was accordingly arranged between them, that, as 
 soon as they were refreshed, he should endeavour to get on board 
 the vessel. 
 
 While busily occupied in the very indispensable operation of break- 
 ing their fast, our adventurers were startled with the sound of distant, 
 fire-arms. At first a few scattering shots were, fired, which were sue- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 429 
 
 ceeded by a long and animated roll of musketry, and then quick and 
 heavy volleys followed each other. 
 
 “ Your prophecy is made good,” cried the English officer, spring- 
 ing upon his feet. “ Our troops and the rebels are at it ! — I would 
 give six months* pay to see the charge.** 
 
 “Uinpli!** returned his companion, without ceasing his meal; 
 " they do very well to look at from a distance : I can*t say but the 
 company of this bacon, cold as it is, is more to my taste, just now, 
 than a hot fire from the continentals.** 
 
 “ The discharges are heavy for so small a force ; but the fire seems 
 irregular.** 
 
 “ The scattering guns are from the Connecticut militia,* 1 said 
 Harvey, raising his head to listen; “tn.j rattle it off finely, and are 
 no fools at a mark. The volleys are the rigTars, who, you know, 
 fire by word — as long as they can.** 
 
 “ I like not the warmth of what you call a scattering fire,** ex- 
 claimed the Captain, moving about with uneasiness ; “ it is more like 
 the roll of a drum than the shooting of skirmishers.** 
 
 “No, no; I said not skrimmagers,** returned the other, raising 
 himself upon a knee, and ceasing to eat ; “so long as they stand, 
 they are too good for the best troops in the royal army. Each man 
 does his work, as if fighting by the job ; and then, they think while 
 they fight, and don’t send bullets among the clouds, that were meant 
 to kill men upon earth.** 
 
 “ You talk and look, sir, as if you wished them success,** said 
 Henry, sternly. 
 
 “I wish success to the good cause only, Captain Wharton. I 
 thought you knew me too well, to be uncertain which party I fa- 
 voured.** 
 
 “Oh! you are reputed loyal, Mr. Birch. — But the volleys have 
 ceased !** 
 
 Both now listened intently for a little wffiile, during which the 
 
430 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 / 
 
 irregular reports became less brisk, and suddenly heavy and repeated 
 volleys followed. 
 
 “ They We been at the bayonet,” said the pedler ; “ the rigTars 
 have tried the bayonet, and the rebels are driven.” 
 
 “Ay, Mr. Birch, the bayonet is the thing for the British soldier, 
 after all. They delight in the bayonet !” 
 
 “Well, to my notion,” said the pedler, “ there ’s but little delight 
 to be taken in any such fearful weapon. I dare say the militia are 
 of my mind, for half of them don’t carry the ugly things. — Lord ! 
 Lord ! Captain, I wish you ’d go with me once into the rebel camp, 
 and hear what lies the men will tell about Bunker Hill and Bur- 
 g’yne : you ’d think they loved the bayonet as much as they do their 
 dinners.” 
 
 There was a chuckle, and an air of affected innocency about his 
 companion, that rather annoyed Henry, and he did not deign to 
 reply. 
 
 The firing now became desultory, occasionally intermingled with 
 heavy volleys. Both of the fugitives were standing, listening with 
 much anxiety, when a man, armed with a musket, was seen stealing 
 towards them, under the shelter of the cedar bushes, that partially 
 covered the hill. Henry first observed this suspicious-looking stranger, 
 and instantly pointed him out to his companion. Birch started, and 
 certainly made an indication of sudden flight ; but recollecting him- 
 self, he stood, in sullen silence, until the stranger was within a few 
 yards of them. 
 
 “’Tis friends,” said the fellow, clubbing his gun, but apparently 
 afraid to venture nearer. 
 
 “ You had better retire,” said Birch ; “ here are rigTars at hand. 
 We are not near Dunwoodie’s horse now, and you will not find me 
 an easy prize to-day.” 
 
 “ Damn Major Dunwoodie and his horse !” cried the leader of the 
 Skinners (for it was he) ; “ God bless King George ! and a speedy 
 end to the rebellion, say I. If you would show me the safe way in 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 431 
 
 to the refugees, Mr. "Birch, I 'll pay you well, and ever after stand 
 your friend, in the bargain." 
 
 “ The road is as open to you as to me," said Birch, turning from 
 him in ill-concealed disgust; “if you want to find the refugees, you 
 know well where they lay." 
 
 “Ay, but I hn a little doubtful of going in upon them by myself : 
 now, you are well known to them all, and it will be no detriment to 
 you just to let me go in with you." 
 
 Henry here interfered, and after holding a short dialogue with the 
 fellow, he entered into a compact with him, that, on condition of 
 surrendering his arms, he might join the party. The man complied 
 instantly, and Birch received his gun with eagerness ; nor did he lay 
 it upon his shoulder to renew their march, before he had carefully 
 examined the priming, and ascertained, to his satisfaction, that it 
 contained a good dry ball-cartridge. 
 
 As soon as this engagement was completed, they commenced their 
 journey anew. By following the bank of the river, Birch led the 
 way free from observation, until they reached the point opposite to 
 the frigate, when, by making a signal, a boat was induced to approach. 
 Some time was spent, and much precaution used, before the seamen 
 would trust themselves ashore ; but Henry having finally succeeded 
 in making the officer who commanded the party credit his assertions, 
 ae was able to rejoin his companions in arms in safety. Before tak- 
 ing leave of Birch, the Captain handed him his purse, which was 
 tolerably well supplied for the times ; the pedler received it, and, 
 watching an opportunity, he conveyed it, unnoticed by the Skinner, 
 to a part of his dress that was ingeniously contrived to hold such 
 treasures. 
 
 The boat pulled from the shore, and Birch turned on his heel, 
 drawing his breath like one relieved, and shot up the hills with the 
 strides for which he was famous. The Skinner followed, and each 
 party pursued the common course casting frequent and suspicious 
 
432 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 glances at the other, and both maintaining a most impenetrable 
 silence. 
 
 Wagons were moving along the river road, and occasional parties 
 of horse were seen escorting the fruits of the inroad towards the city. 
 As the pedler had views of his own, he rather avoided falling in 
 with any of these patrols, than sought their protection. But, after 
 travelling a few miles on the immediate banks of the mer, during 
 which, notwithstanding the repeated efforts of the Skinner to esta- 
 blish something like sociability, he maintained a most determined 
 silence, keeping a firm hold of the gun, and always maintaining a 
 jealous watchfulness of his associate, the pedler suddenly struck 
 into the highway, with an intention of crossing the hills towards 
 Harlaem. At the moment he gained the path, a body of horse 
 came over a little eminence, and was upon him before he perceived 
 them. It was too late to retreat, and after taking a view of the ma- 
 terials that composed this party, Birch rejoiced in the rencontre, as 
 a probable means of relieving him from his unwelcome companion. 
 There were some eighteen or twenty men, mounted and equipped as 
 dragoons, though neither their appearance nor manners denoted 
 much discipline. At their head rode a heavy, middle-aged man, 
 whose features expressed as much of animal courage, and as little of 
 reason, as could be desired for such an occupation. He wore the 
 dress of an officer, but there was none of that neatness in his attire, 
 nor grace in his movements, that was usually found about the gen- 
 tlemen who bore the royal commission. His limbs were firm, and 
 not pliable, and he sat his horse with strength and confidence, but 
 his bridle-hand would have been ridiculed by the meanest rider 
 amongst the Virginians. As he expected, this leader instantly 
 hailed the pedler, in a voice by no means more conciliating than his 
 appearance. 
 
 iC Hey ! my gentlemen, which way so fast ?” he cried. “ Has 
 Washington sent you down as spies ?” 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 433 
 
 “ I am an innocent pedler,” returned Harvey, meekly, c( and am 
 going below, to lay in a fresh stock of goods.” 
 
 1 And how do you expect to get below, my innocent pedler ? Ho 
 you think we hold the forts at Kingsbridge to cover such peddling 
 rascals as you, in your goings in, and comings out ?” 
 
 “ I believe I hold a pass that will carry me through,” said the 
 pedler, handing him a paper, with an air of great indifference. 
 
 The officer, for such he was, read it, and cast a look of surprise 
 and curiosity at Harvey, when he had done. 
 
 Then turning to one or two of his men. who had officiously stopped 
 the way, he cried — 
 
 “ Why do you detain the man ? give way, and let him pass in 
 peace : but who have we here ? your name is not mentioned in the 
 pass !” 
 
 “No, sir,” said the Skinner, lifting his hat with humility; “I 
 have been a poor deluded man, who has been serving in the rebel 
 army ; but, thank God, I 've lived to see the error of my ways, and 
 am now come to make reparation, by enlisting under the Lord's 
 anointed.” 
 
 “Umph! a deserter — a Skinner, I'll swear, wanting to turn 
 Cow-boy ! In the last brush I had with the scoundrels, I could 
 hardly tell my own men from the enemy. We are not over well 
 supplied with coats, and as for countenances, the rascals change sides 
 so often, that you may as well count their faces for nothing; but 
 trudge on, we will contrive to make use of you, sooner or later.” 
 
 Ungracious as was this reception, if you could judge of the 
 Skinner’s feelings from his manner, it nevertheless delighted him. 
 He moved with alacrity towards the city, and really was so happy to 
 escape the brutal looks and frightful manner of his interrogator, as 
 to lose sight of all other considerations. But the man who performed 
 the functions of orderly in the irregular troop, rode up to the side 
 of his commander, and commenced a close and apparently a confi- 
 dential discourse with his principal. They spoke in whispers, and 
 
 19 
 
434 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 cast frequent and searching glances at the Skinner, until the fellow 
 began to think himself an object of more than common attention. 
 His satisfaction at this distinction was somewhat heightened, at ob- 
 serving a smile on the face of the Captain, which, although it might 
 be thought grim, certainly denoted satisfaction. This pantomime 
 occupied the time they were passing a hollow, and concluded as they 
 rose another hill. Here the Captain and his sergeant both dismount- 
 ed, and ordered the party to halt. The two partisans each took a 
 pistol from his holster, a movement that excited no suspicion or 
 alarm, as it was a precaution always observed, and beckoned to the 
 pedler and the Skinner to follow. A short walk brought them to a 
 spot where the hill overhung the river, the ground falling nearly 
 perpendicularly to the shore. On the brow of the eminence stood a 
 deserted and dilapidated barn. Many boards of its covering were 
 torn from their places, and its wide doors were lying, the one in 
 front of the building, and the other half-way down the precipice, 
 whither the wind had cast it. Entering this desolate spot, the refugee 
 officer very coolly took from his pocket a short pipe, which, from long 
 use, had acquired not only the hue but the gloss of ebony, a tobacco- 
 box, and a small roll of leather, that contained steel, flint, and tinder. 
 With this apparatus, he soon furnished his mouth with a companion 
 that habit had long rendered necessary to reflection. So soon as a 
 large column of smoke arose from this arrangement, the Captain 
 significantly held forth a hand towards his assistant. A small cord 
 was produced from the pocket of the sergeant, and handed to the 
 other. The refugee threw out vast pufls of smoke, until nearly all 
 of his head was obscured, and looked around the building with an 
 inquisitive eye. At length he removed the pipe, and inhaling a 
 draught of pure air, returned it to its domicile, and proceeded at 
 once to business. A heavy piece of timber lay across the girths of 
 the barn, but a little way from the southern door, which opened 
 directly upon a full view of the river, as it stretched far away to- 
 wards the bay of New York. Over this beam the refugee threw 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 435 
 
 one end of the rope, and, regaining it, joined the two parts in his 
 hand. A small and weak barrel, that wanted a head, the staves of 
 which were loose, and at one end standing apart, was left on the 
 floor, probably as useless. The sergeant, in obedience to a look from 
 his officer, placed it beneath the beam. All of these arrangements 
 were made with immoveable composure, and they now seemed com- 
 pleted to the officer’s perfect satisfaction. 
 
 u Come,” he said coolly to the Skinner, who, admiring the pre- 
 parations, had stood a silent spectator of their progress. He obeyed ; 
 and it was not until he found his neckcloth removed, and hat thrown 
 aside, that he took the alarm. But he had so often resorted to a 
 similar expedient to extort information, or plunder, that he by no 
 means felt the terror an unpractised man would have suffered, at 
 these ominous movements. The rope was adjusted to his neck with 
 the same coolness that formed the characteristic of the whole move- 
 ment, and a fragment of board being laid upon the barrel, he was 
 ordered to mount. 
 
 u But it may fall,” said the Skinner, for the first time beginning 
 to tremble. u I will tell you any thing — even how to surprise our 
 party at the Pond, without all this trouble, and it is commanded by 
 my own brother.” 
 
 u I want no information,” returned his executioner, (for such he 
 now seemed really to be), throwing the rope repeatedly over the 
 beam, first drawing it tight so as to annoy the Skinner a little, and 
 then casting the end from him, beyond the reach of any one. 
 
 “ This is joking too far,” cried the Skinner, in a tone of remon- 
 strance, and raising himself on his toes, with the vain hope of re- 
 leasing himself from the cord, by slipping his head through the 
 noose. But the caution and experience of the refugee officer had 
 guarded against this escape. 
 
 u What have you done with the horse you stole from me, rascal ?” 
 muttered the officer of the Cow-boys, throwing out columns of smoke 
 while he waited for a reply. 
 
436 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 “ He broke down in the chase,” replied the Skinner, quickly ; 
 u but I can tell you where one is to be found that is worth him and 
 his sire.” 
 
 “ Liar ! I will help myself when I am in need ; you had better 
 call upon God for aid, as your hour is short.” On concluding this 
 consoling advice, he struck the barrel a violent blow with his heavy 
 foot, and the slender staves flew in every direction, leaving the Skin- 
 ner whirling in the air. As his hands were unconfined, he threw 
 them upwards, and held himself suspended by main strength. 
 
 u Come, captain,” he said, coaxingly, a little huskiness creeping 
 into his voice, and his knees beginning to shake with tremour, u end 
 the joke ; 't is enough to make a laugh, and my arms begin to tire — 
 I can't hold on much longer.” 
 
 u Harkee, Mr. Pedler,” said the refugee, in a voice that would not 
 be denied, u I want not your company. Through that door lies your 
 road — march! offer to touch that dog, and you'll swing in his 
 place, though twenty Sir Henries wanted your services.” So say- 
 ing, he retired to the road with the sergeant, as the pedler precipi- 
 tately retreated down the bank. 
 
 Birch went no farther than a bush that opportunely offered itself 
 as a skreen to his person, while he yielded to an unconquerable 
 desire to witness the termination of this extraordinary scene. 
 
 Left alone, the Skinner began to throw fearful glances around, to 
 espy the hiding-places of his tormentors. For the first time the 
 horrid idea seemed to shoot through his brain that something serious 
 was intended by the Cow-boy. He called entreatingly to be re- 
 leased, and made rapid and incoherent promises of important infor- 
 mation, mingled with affected pleasantry at their conceit, which he 
 would hardly admit to himself could mean any thing so dreadful as 
 it seemed. But as he heard the tread of the horses moving on their 
 course, and in vain looked around for human aid, violent trembling 
 seized his limbs, and his eyes began to start from his head with 
 terror. He made a desperate effort to reach the beam; but, too 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 437 
 
 much exhausted with his previous exertions, he caught the rope in 
 his teeth, in a vain effort to sever the cord, and fell to the whole 
 length of his arms. Here his cries were turned into shrieks — 
 
 “ Help ! cut the rope ! Captain ! — Birch ! good pedler ! Down 
 with the Congress ! — Sergeant ! — for God’s sake, help ! Hurrah 
 for the king ! — Oh God ! oh God ! — mercy — mercy — mercy l” 
 
 As his voice became suppressed, one of his hands endeavoured to 
 make its way between the rope and his neck, and partially suc- 
 ceeded; but the other fell quivering by his side. A convulsive 
 shuddering passed over his whole frame, and he hung a hideous 
 corse. 
 
 Birch continued gazing on this scene with a kind of infatuation. 
 At its close he placed his hands to his ears, and rushed towards the 
 highway. Still the cries for mercy rang through his brain, and it 
 was many weeks before his memory ceased to dwell on the horrid 
 event. The Cow-boys rode steadily on their route, as if nothing 
 had occurred; and the body was left swinging in the wind, until 
 chance directed the footsteps of some straggler to the place. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Green be the turf above thee, 
 
 Friend of my better days ; 
 
 None knew thee but to love thee, 
 
 None named thee but to praise. 
 
 Halleck 
 
 4 
 
 While the scenes and events tliat we have recorded were occurring, 
 Captain Lawton led his small party, by slow and wary marches, from 
 the Four Corners to the front of a body of the enemy; wheie he so 
 successfully manoeuvred, for a short time, as completely to elude all 
 their efforts to entrap him, and yet so disguised his own force as to 
 excite the constant apprehension of an attack from the Americans. 
 This forbearing policy, on the side of the partisan, was owing to 
 positive orders received from his commander. When Dunwoodie 
 left his detachment, the enemy were known to be slowly advancing, 
 and he directed Lawton to hover around them, until his own return, 
 and the arrival of a body of foot, might enable him to intercept their 
 retreat. 
 
 The trooper discharged his duty to the letter, but with no little 
 of the impatience that made part of his character when restrained 
 from the attack. 
 
 During these movements, Betty Flanagan guided her little cart 
 with indefatigable zeal among the rocks of West-Chester, now dis- 
 cussing with the sergeant the nature of evil spirits, and now combat- 
 ing with the surgeon sundry points of practice that were hourly 
 arising between them. But the moment at length arrived that was 
 to decide the temporary mastery of the field. A detachment of the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 439 
 
 eastern militia moved out from their fastnesses, and appioached the 
 enemy. 
 
 The junction between Lawton and his auxiliaries was made at 
 midnight, and an immediate consultation was held between him and 
 the leader of the foot-soldiers. After listening to the statements of 
 the partisan, who rather despised the prowess of his enemy, the 
 commandant of the party determined to attack the British, the mo- 
 ment daylight enabled him to reconnoitre their position, without 
 waiting for the aid of Dunwoodie and his horse. So soon as this 
 decision was made, Lawton retired from the building where the con- 
 sultation was held, and rejoined his own small command. 
 
 The few troopers who were with the captain had fastened their 
 horses in a spot adjacent to a haystack, and laid their own frames 
 under its shelter, to catch a few hours’ sleep. But Dr. Sitgreaves, 
 Sergeant Hollister, and Betty Flanagan were congregated at a short 
 distance by themselves, having spread a few blankets upon the dry 
 surface of a rock. Lawton threw his huge frame by the side of the 
 surgeon, and folding his cloak about him, leaned his head upon one 
 hand, and appeared deeply engaged in contemplating the moon as it 
 waded through the heavens. The sergeant was sitting upright, in 
 respectful deference to the surgeon, and the washerwoman was now 
 raising her head, in order to vindicate some of her favourite maxims, 
 and now composing it on one of her gin-casks, in a vain effort to 
 sleep. 
 
 “So, Sergeant,” continued Sitgreaves, following up a previous 
 position, “ if you cut upwards, the blow, by losing the additional 
 momentum of your weight, will be less destructive, and at the same 
 time effect the true purposes of war, that of disabling your 
 enemy.” 
 
 “Pooh! pooh! Sargeant dear,” said the washerwoman, raising 
 her head from the blanket; “ where ’s the harm of taking a life, jist 
 in the way of battle ? Is it the rig’lars who T1 show favour, and 
 they fighting ? Ask Captain Jack there, if the country could get 
 
440 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 the liberty, and the boys no strike their might. I wouldVt have 
 them disparage the whiskey so much.” 
 
 “ It is not to be expected that an ignorant female like yourself, 
 Mrs. Flanagan,” returned the surgeon, with a calmness that only 
 rendered his contempt more stinging to Betty, “ can comprehend the 
 distinctions of surgical science; neither are you accomplished in 
 the sword exercise ; so that dissertations upon the judicious use of 
 that weapon could avail you nothing, either in theory or in 
 practice.” 
 
 “ It ’s but little I care, any way, for such botherments ; but fight- 
 ing is no play, and a body should n’t be particular how they strike, 
 or who they hit, so it ’s the inimy.” 
 
 u Are we likely to have a warm day, Captain Lawton ?” 
 
 “’Tis more than probable,” replied the trooper; “ these militia 
 seldom fail of making a bloody field, either by their cowardice or 
 their ignorance, and the real soldier is made to suffer for their bad 
 conduct.” 
 
 “Are you ill, John?” said the surgeon, passing his hand along 
 the arm of the Captain, until it instinctively settled on his pulse ; 
 but the steady, even beat announced neither bodily nor mental 
 
 malady. 
 
 “ Sick at heart, Archibald, at the folly of our rulers, in believing 
 that battles are to be fought, and victories won, by fellows who han- 
 dle a musket as they would a flail ; lads who wink when they pull a 
 trigger, and form a line like a hoop-pole. The dependence we place 
 on these men spills the best blood of the country.” 
 
 The surgeon listened with amazement. It was not the matter, 
 but the manner that surprised him. The trooper had uniformly ex- 
 hibited, on the eve of battle, an animation, and an eagerness to en- 
 gage, that was directly at variance with the admirable coolness of his 
 manner at other times. But now there was a despondency in the 
 tones of his voice, and a listlessness in his air, that was entirely dif- 
 ferent. The operator hesitated a moment, to reflect in what manner 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 441 
 
 he could render this change of service in furthering his favourite 
 system available, and then continued — 
 
 “ It would be wise, John, to advise the Colonel to keep at long 
 shot; a spent ball will disable — ” 
 
 “No !” exclaimed the trooper, impatiently; “let the rascals singe 
 their whiskers at the muzzles of the British muskets, if they can be 
 driven there. — But, enough of them. Archibald, do you deem that 
 moon to be a world like this, containing creatures like ourselves ?” 
 “Nothing more probable, dear John; we know its size, and, rea- 
 soning from analogy, may easily conjecture its use. Whether or not 
 its inhabitants have attained to that perfection in the sciences which 
 we have acquired, must depend greatly on the state of its society, 
 and in some measure upon its physical influences.” 
 
 “I care nothing about their learning, Archibald; but ’tis a won- 
 derful power that can create such worlds, and control them in their 
 wanderings. I know not why, but there is a feeling of melancholy 
 excited within me as I gaze on that body of light, shaded as it is by 
 your fancied sea and land. It seems to be the resting-place of de- 
 parted spirits !” 
 
 “ Take a drop, darling,” said Betty, raising her head once more, 
 and proffering her own bottle ; “ ’t is the night damp that chills the 
 blood — and then the talk with the cursed militia is no good for a 
 fiery temper. Take a drop, darling, and ye T1 sleep till the morning. 
 I fed Boanoke myself, for I thought ye might need hard riding the 
 morrow.” 
 
 “’Tis a glorious heaven to look upon,” continued the trooper, in 
 the same tone, disregarding the offer of Betty, “ and ’t is a thousand 
 pities that such worms as men should let their vile passions deface 
 such goodly work.” 
 
 “You speak the truth, dear John; there is room for all to live 
 and enjoy themselves in peace, if each could be satisfied with his 
 own. Still, war has its advantages; it particulaiiy promotes the 
 knowledge of surgery; and — ” 
 
 19 * 
 
442 
 
 T HE SPY. 
 
 “ There is a star/’ continued Lawton, still bent on his own ideas, 
 “ struggling to glitter through a few driving clouds ; perhaps that 
 too is a world, and contains its creatures endowed with reason like 
 ourselves ; think you that they know of war and bloodshed ?” 
 
 “If I might be so bold,” said Sergeant Hollister, mechanically 
 raising his hand to his cap, “ ’t is mentioned in the good book, that 
 the Lord made the sun to stand still while Joshua was charging the 
 enemy, in order, sir, as I suppose, that they might have daylight to 
 turn their flank, or perhaps make a feint in the rear, or some such 
 manoeuvre. Now, if the Lord would lend them a hand, fighting 
 cannot be sinful. I have often been nonplushed, though, to find 
 that they used them chariots instead of heavy dragoons, who are, in 
 all comparison, better to break a line of infantry, and who, for the 
 matter of that, could turn such wheel-carriages, and, getting in the 
 rear, play the very devil with them, horse and all.” 
 
 “ It is because you do not understand the construction of those 
 ancient vehicles, Sergeant Hollister, that you judge of them so erro- 
 neously,” said the surgeon. “ They were armed with sharp weapons 
 that protruded from their wheels, and which broke up the columns 
 of foot, like dismembered particles of matter. I doubt not, if similar 
 instruments were affixed to the cart of Mrs. Flanagan, that great 
 confusion might be carried into the ranks of the enemy thereby, this 
 very day.” 
 
 “It's but little that the mare would go, and the rigTars firing at 
 her,” grumbled Betty, from under her blanket; “when we got the 
 plunder, the time we drove them through the Jarseys it was, I had 
 to back the baste up to the dead; for the divil the foot would she 
 move, forenent the firing, wid her eyes open. Boanoke and Captain 
 J ack are good enough for the red-coats, letting alone myself and the 
 mare.” 
 
 A long roll of the drums, from the hill occupied by the British, 
 announced that they were on the alert ; and a corresponding signal 
 was immediately heard from the Americans. The bugle of the Vir- 
 
T HE Sl>Y. 
 
 443 
 
 giniaus struck up its martial tones ; and in a few moments both the 
 hills, the one held by the royal troops, and the other by their ene- 
 mies, were alive with armed men. Day had begun to dawn, and 
 preparations were making by both parties, to give and to receive the 
 attack. In numbers the Americans had greatly the advantage ) but 
 in discipline and equipments the superiority was entirely with their 
 enemies. The arrangements for the battle were brief, and by the 
 time the sun had risen the militia moved forward. 
 
 The ground did not admit of the movements of horse ; and the 
 only duty that could be assigned to the dragoons was to watch the 
 moment of victory, and endeavour to improve the success to the 
 utmost. Lawton soon got his warriors into the saddle ; and leaving 
 them to the charge of Hollister, he rode himself along the line of 
 foot, who, in varied dresses, and imperfectly armed, were formed in 
 a shape that in some degree resembled a martial array. A scornful 
 smile lowered about the lip of the trooper as he guided Roanoke 
 with a skilful hand through the windings of their ranks ; and when 
 the word was given to march, he turned the flank of the regiment, 
 and followed close in the rear. The Americans had to descend into 
 a little hollow, and rise a hill on its opposite side, to approach the 
 enemy. 
 
 The descent was made with tolerable steadiness, until near the 
 foot of the hill, when the royal troops advanced in a beautiful line, 
 with their flanks protected by the formation of the ground. The 
 appearance of the British drew a fire from the militia, which was 
 given with good effect, and for a moment staggered the regulars. 
 But they were rallied by their officers, and threw in volley after 
 volley with great steadiness. For a short time the fire was warm 
 and destructive, until the English advanced with the bayonet. This 
 assault the militia had not sufficient discipline to withstand. Their 
 line wavered, then paused, and finally broke into companies and 
 fragments of companies, keeping up at the same time a scattering 
 and desultory fire. 
 
444 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 Lawton witnessed these operations in silence, nor did he open his 
 mouth until the field was covered with parties of the flying Ameri- 
 cans. Then, indeed, he seemed stung with the disgrace thus heaped 
 upon the arms of his country. Spurring Roanoke along the side of 
 the hill, he called to the fugitives, in all the strength of his powerful 
 voice. He pointed to the enemy, and assured his countrymen that 
 they had mistaken the way. There was such a mixture of indiffer- 
 ence and irony in his exhortations, that a few paused in surprise — 
 more joined them, until, roused by the example of the trooper, and 
 stimulated by their own spirit, they demanded to be led against their 
 foe once more. 
 
 “ Come on, then, my brave friends !” shouted the trooper, turning 
 his horse’s head towards the British line, one flank of which was 
 very near him ; u come on, and hold your fire until it will scorch 
 their eyebrows.” 
 
 The men sprang forward, and followed his example, neither giving 
 nor receiving a fire until they had come within a very short distance 
 of the enemy. An English sergeant, who had been concealed by a 
 rock, enraged with the audacity of the officer who thus dared their 
 arms, stepped from behind his cover, and advancing within a few 
 yards of the trooper, levelled his musket — 
 
 “ Fire, and you die !” cried Lawton, spurring his charger, which 
 leaped forward at the instant. The action and the tone of his voice 
 shook the nerves of the Englishman, who drew his trigger with an 
 uncertain aim. Roanoke sprang with all his feet from the earth, 
 and, plunging, fell headlong and lifeless at the feet of his destroyer. 
 Lawton kept his feet, standing face to face with his enemy. The 
 latter presented his bayonet, and made a desperate thrust at the 
 trooper’s heart. The steel of their weapons emitted sparks of fire, 
 and the bayonet flew fifty feet in the air. At the next moment its 
 owner lay a quivering corpse. 
 
 u Come on !” shouted the trooper, as a body of English appeared 
 on the rock, and threw in a close fire ; “ come on !” he repeated, and 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 445 
 
 brandished his sabre fiercely. Then his gigantic form fell backward; 
 like a majestic pine yielding to the axe ; but still, as he slowly fell, 
 he continued to wield his sabre, and once more the deep tones of his 
 voice were heard uttering, “ Come on l” 
 
 The advancing Americans paused aghast, and, turning, they 
 abandoned the field to the royal troops. 
 
 It was neither the intention nor the policy of the English com- 
 mander to pursue his success, for he well knew that strong parties 
 of the Americans would soon arrive ; accordingly, he only tarried to 
 collect his wounded, and, forming in a square, he commenced his 
 retreat towards the shipping. Within twenty minutes of the fall of 
 Lawton, the ground was deserted by both English and Americans. 
 
 When the inhabitants of the country were called upon to enter 
 the field, they were necessarily attended by such surgical advisers as 
 were furnished by the low state of the profession in the interior at 
 that day. Dr. Sitgreaves entertained quite as profound a contempt 
 for the medical attendants of the militia as the captain did of the 
 troops themselves. He wandered, therefore, around the field, cast- 
 ing many a glance of disapprobation at the slight operations that 
 came under his eye ; but when, among the flying troops, he found 
 that his comrade and friend was nowhere to be seen, he hastened 
 back to the spot at which Hollister was posted, to enquire if the 
 trooper had returned. Of course, the answer was in the negative. 
 Filled with a thousand uneasy conjectures, the surgeon, without re- 
 garding, or indeed without at all reflecting upon any dangers that 
 might lie in his way, strode over the ground at an enormous rate, to 
 the point where he knew the final struggle had been. Once before, 
 the surgeon had rescued his friend from death in a similar situation ; 
 and he felt a secret joy in his own conscious skill, as he perceived 
 Eetty Flanagan seated on the ground, holding in her lap the head 
 of a man whose size and dress he knew could belong only to the 
 troop u\ As he approached the spot, the surgeon became alarmed 
 at the aspect of the washerwoman. Her little black bonnet was 
 
446 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 thrown aside, and her hair, which was already streaked with grey 
 hung around her face in disorder. 
 
 “ John! dear John!” said the doctor, tenderly, as he bent and 
 laid his hand upon the senseless wrist of the trooper, from which it 
 recoiled with an intuitive knowledge of his fate; “John! dear 
 John ! where are you hurt ? — can I help you ?” 
 
 “ Yee talk to the senseless clay,” said Betty, rocking her body, 
 and unconsciously playing with the raven ringlets of the trooper’s 
 hair ; “ it ’s no more will he hear, and it ’s but little will he mind 
 yee’r probes and yee’r med’cines. Och hone, och hone ! — and 
 where will be the liberty now ? or who will there be to fight the 
 battle, or gain the day ?” 
 
 “ John !” repeated the surgeon, still unwilling to believe the evi- 
 dence of his unerring senses, “dear John, speak to me; say what 
 you will, that you do but speak. Oh, God ! he is dead; would that 
 I had died with him !” 
 
 “ There is but little use in living and fighting now,” said Betty ; 
 “both him and the baste ! see, there is the poor cratur, and here is 
 the master ! I fed the horse with my own hands, the day ; and the 
 last male that he ate was of my own cooking. Och hone ! och hone ! 
 — that Captain Jack should live to be killed by the rig’lars !” 
 
 “John ! my dear John !” said the surgeon, with convulsive sobs, 
 “ thy hour has come, and many a more prudent man survives thee ; 
 but none better, nor braver. Oh ! John, thou wert to me a kind 
 friend, and very dear : it is unpliilosophical to grieve ; but for thee, 
 John, I must weep, even in bitterness of heart !” 
 
 The doctor buried his face in his hands, and for several minutes 
 sat yielding to an ungovernable burst of sorrow ; while the washer- 
 woman gave vent to her grief in words ; moving her body in a kind 
 of writhing, and playing with different parts of her favourite’s dress 
 with her fingers. 
 
 “And who’ll there be to incourage the boys now?” she said: 
 K Oh ! Captain Jack ! Captain Jack ! yee was the sowl of the troop, 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 44'i 
 
 and it was but little we know’d of the danger, and yee fighting. 
 Och ! he was no maly mouth’d, that quarrelled wid a widowed 
 woman for the matter of a burn in the mate, or the want of a break- 
 fast. Taste a drop, darling, and it may be, ’t will revive yee. Och ! 
 and he T1 nivir taste agin ; here ’s the doctor, honey, him yee used 
 to blarney wid, wapeing as if the poor sowl would die for yee. Och ! 
 he ’s gone, he ’s gone ; and the liberty is gone wid him.” 
 
 A thundering sound of horses’ feet came rolling along the road 
 which led near the place where Lawton lay, and directly the whole 
 body of Yirginians appeared, with Dunwoodie at their head. The 
 news of the captain’s fate had reached him; for the instant that he 
 saw the body he halted the squadron, and dismounting, approached 
 the spot. The countenance of Lawton was not in the least distorted, 
 but the angry frown which had lowered over his brow during the 
 battle was fixed even in death. His frame was composed, and 
 stretched as in sleep. Dunwoodie took hold of his hand, and gazed 
 a moment in silence ; his own dark eye kindled, and the paleness 
 which had overspread his features was succeeded by a spot of deep 
 red in either cheek. 
 
 “ With his own sword will I avenge him !” he cried, endeavouring 
 to take the weapon from the hand of Lawton ; but the grasp resisted 
 his utmost strength. “ It shall be buried with him. Sitgreaves, 
 take care of our friend, while I revenge his death.” 
 
 The Major hastened back to his charger, and led the way in pur- 
 suit of the enemy. 
 
 While Dunwoodie had been thus engaged, the body of Lawton 
 lay in open view of the whole squadron. He was a universal favour- 
 ite, and the sight inflamed the men to the utmost : neither officers 
 nor soldiers possessed that coolness which is necessary to ensure suc- 
 cess in military operations; but they spurred ardently after their 
 enemies, burning with a wish for vengeance. 
 
 The English were formed in a hollow square, which contained 
 their wounded, who were far from numerous, and were marching 
 steadily across a very uneven country as the dragoons approached 
 
4 43 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 The horse charged in column, and were led by Dunwoodie, who, 
 burning with revenge, thought to ride through their ranks, and scat- 
 ter them at a blow. But the enemy knew their own strength too 
 well, and, standing firm, they received the charge on the points of 
 their bayonets. The horses of the Virginians recoiled, and the rear 
 rank of the foot throwing in a close fire, the Major, with a few men, 
 fell. The English continued their retreat the moment they were 
 extricated from their assailants ; and Dunwoodie, who was severely, 
 but not dangerously wounded, recalled his men from further attempts, 
 which, in that stony country, must necessarily be fruitless. 
 
 A sad duty remained to be fulfilled. The dragoons retired slowly 
 through the hills, conveying their wounded commander, and the 
 body of Lawton. The latter they interred under the ramparts of 
 one of the Highland forts, and the former they consigned to the 
 tender care of his afflicted bride. 
 
 Many weeks were gone before the Major was restored to sufficient 
 strength to be removed. During those weeks, how often did he bless 
 the moment that gave him a right to the services of his beautiful 
 nurse ! She hung around his couch with fond attention ; adminis- 
 tered with her own hands every prescription of the indefatigable Sit- 
 greaves, and grew each hour in the affections and esteem of her hus- 
 band. An order from Washington soon sent the troops into winter- 
 quarters, and permission was given to Dunwoodie to repair to his 
 own plantation, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel, in order to com- 
 plete the restoration of his health. Captain Singleton made one of 
 the party; and the whole family retired from the active scenes of 
 the war, to the ease and plenty of the Major’s own estate. Before 
 leaving Fishkill, however, letters were conveyed to them, through an 
 unknown hand, acquainting them with Henry’s safety and good 
 health* and also that Colonel Wellmere had left the continent for 
 his native island, lowered in the estimation of every honest man in 
 vhe royal army. 
 
 It was a happy winter for Dunwoodie, and smiles once more began 
 to play around the lovely mouth of Frances. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 ’Midst furs, and silks, and jewels’ sheen, 
 
 He stood, in simple Lincoln green, 
 
 The centre of the glittering ring ; 
 
 And Snowdon’s knight is Scotland’s king ! 
 
 Lady of the Lake. 
 
 The commencement of the following year was passed, on the part 
 of the Americans, in making great preparations, in conjunction with 
 their allies, to bring the war to a close. In the south, Greene and 
 Hawdon made a bloody campaign, that was highly honourable to the 
 troops of the latter, but which, by terminating entirely to the advan- 
 tage of the former, proved him to be the better general of the two. 
 
 New York was the point that was threatened by the allied armies; 
 and Washington, by exciting a constant apprehension for the safety 
 of that city, prevented such reinforcements from being sent to Corn- 
 wallis as would have enabled him to improve his success. 
 
 At length, as autumn approached, every indication was given that 
 the final moment had arrived. 
 
 The French forces drew near to the royal lines, passing through 
 the Neutral Ground, and threatened an attack in the direction of 
 Kingsbridge, while large bodies of Americans were acting in concert. 
 By hovering around the British posts, and drawing nigh in the Jer- 
 seys, they seemed to threaten the royal forces from that quarter also. 
 The preparations partook of the nature of both a siege and a storm. 
 But Sir Henry Clinton, in the possession of intercepted letters from 
 Washington, rested securely within his lines, and cautiously disre- 
 garded the solicitations of Cornwallis for succour. 
 
It was at/ the close of a stormy day in the month of September, 
 that a large assemblage of officers was collected near the door of a 
 building that was situated in the heart of the American troops, who 
 held the Jerseys. The age, the dress, and the dignity of deportment 
 of most of these warriors, indicated them to be of high rank : but to 
 one in particular was paid a deference and obedience that announced 
 him to be of the highest. His dress was plain, but it bore the usual 
 military distinctions of command. He was mounted on a noble ani- 
 mal, of a deep bay ; and a group of young men, in gayer attire, evi- 
 dently awaited his pleasure, and did his bidding. Many a hat was 
 lifted as its owner addressed this officer; and when he spoke, a pro« 
 found attention, exceeding the respect of mere professional etiquette, 
 was exhibited on every countenance. At length the General raised 
 his own hat, and bowed gravely to all around him. The salute was 
 returned, and the party dispersed, leaving the officer without a single 
 attendant, except his body-servants and one aid-de-camp. Dismount- 
 ing, he stepped back a few paces, and for a moment viewed the con- 
 dition of his horse with the eye of one who well understood the ani- 
 mal, and then, casting a brief but expressive glance at his aid, he 
 retired into the building, followed by that gentleman. 
 
 On entering an apartment that was apparently fitted for his recep- 
 tion, he took a seat, and continued for a long time in a thoughtful 
 attitude, like one in the habit of communing much with himself. 
 During this silence, the aid-de-camp stood in expectation of his orders. 
 At length the General raised his eyes, and spoke in those low placid 
 tones that seemed natural to him. 
 
 u Has the man whom I wished to see arrived, sir V ' 
 
 “ He waits the pleasure of your excellency.” 
 u I will receive him here, and alone, if you please.” 
 
 The aid bowed and withdrew. In a few minutes the door again 
 opened, and a figure, gliding into the apartment, stood modestly at a 
 distance from the General, without speaking. His entrance was un- 
 heard by the officer, who sat gazing at the fire, still absorbed in his 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 451 
 
 own meditations. Several minutes passed, when he spoke to himself 
 in an under-tone — 
 
 “ To-morrow we must raise the curtain, and expose our plans. 
 May heaven prosper them !” 
 
 A slight movement made by the stranger caught his ear, and he 
 turned his head, and saw that he was not alone. He pointed silently 
 to the fire, towards which the figure advanced, although the multi- 
 tude of his garments, which seemed more calculated for disguise 
 than comfort, rendered its warmth unnecessary. A second mild and 
 courteous gesture motioned to a vacant chair, but the stranger re- 
 fused it with a modest acknowledgment. Another pause followed, 
 and continued for some time. At length the officer arose, and open- 
 ing a desk that was laid upon the table near which he sat, took from 
 it a small, but apparently heavy bag. 
 
 “ Harvey Birch,” he said, turning to the stranger, “ the time has 
 arrived when our connexion must cease ; henceforth and for ever we 
 must be strangers.” 
 
 The pedler dropped the folds of the great-coat that concealed his 
 features, and gazed for a moment earnestly at the face of the speaker ; 
 then dropping his head upon his bosom, he said, meekly — 
 
 “If it be your excellency’s pleasure.” 
 
 “ It is necessary. Since I have filled the station which I now 
 hold, it has become my duty to know many men, who, like yourself, 
 have been my instruments in procuring intelligence. You have I 
 trusted more than all; I early saw in you a regard to truth and 
 principle, that, I am pleased to say, has never deceived me — you 
 alone know my secret agents in the city, and on your fidelity depend, 
 not only their fortunes, but their lives.” 
 
 He paused, as if to reflect, in order that full justice might be 
 done to the pedler, and then continued — 
 
 “ I believe you are one of the very few that I have employed who 
 have acted faithfully to our cause ; and, while you have passed as a 
 spy of the enemy, have never given intelligence that you were not 
 
452 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 permitted to divulge. To me, and to me only of all the world, you 
 seem to have acted with a strong attachment to the liberties of 
 America.” 
 
 During this address, Harvey gradually raised his head from his 
 bosom, until it reached the highest point of elevation ; a faint tinge 
 gathered in his cheeks, and, as the officer concluded, it was diffused 
 over his whole countenance in a deep glow, while he stood proudly 
 swelling with his emotions, but with eyes that modestly sought the 
 feet of the speaker. 
 
 “ It is now my duty to pay you for these services ; hitherto you 
 have postponed receiving your reward, and the debt has become a 
 heavy one — I wish not to undervalue your dangers ; here are a hun- 
 dred doubloons ; you will remember the poverty of our country, and 
 attribute to it the smallness of your pay.” 
 
 The pedler raised his eyes to the countenance of the speaker ; but, 
 as the other held forth the money, he moved back, as if refusing 
 the bag. 
 
 “ It is not much for your services and risks, I acknowledge,” con- 
 tinued the general, “but it is all that I have to offer; at the end of 
 the campaign, it may be in my power to increase it.” 
 
 “ Does your excellency think that I have exposed my life, and 
 blasted my character, for money?” 
 
 “ If not for money, what then ?” 
 
 “ What has brought your excellency into the field ? For what do 
 you daily and hourly expose your precious life to battle and the 
 halter ? What is there about me to mourn, when such men as you 
 risk their all for our country ? No — no — no — not a dollar of your 
 gold will I touch ; poor America has need of it all !” 
 
 The bag dropped from the hand of the officer, and fell at the feet 
 of the pedler, where it lay neglected during the remainder of the 
 interview. The officer looked steadily at the face of his companion, 
 and continued — 
 
 “ There are many motives which might govern me, that to you 
 
TI1E SPY. 
 
 453 
 
 are unknown. Our situations are different; I am known as the 
 leader of armies — but you must descend into the grave with the 
 reputation of a foe to your native land. Remember that the veil 
 which conceals your true character cannot be raised in years — per- 
 haps never.” 
 
 Birch again lowered his face, but there was no yielding of the soul 
 in the movement. 
 
 “You will soon be old; the prime of your days is already past; 
 what have you to subsist on ?” 
 
 “ These !” said the pedler, stretching forth his hands, that were 
 already embrowned with toil. 
 
 “ But those may fail you ; take enough to secure a support to 
 your age. Remember your risks and cares. I have told you that 
 the characters of men who are much esteemed in life depend on 
 your secrecy; what pledge can I give them of your fidelity?” 
 
 “ Tell them,” said Birch, advancing, and unconsciously resting 
 one foot on the bag, “ tell them that I would not take the gold !” 
 
 The composed features of the officer relaxed into a smile of bene- 
 volence, and he grasped the hand of the pedier firmly. 
 
 “ Now, indeed, I know you; and although the same reasons which 
 have hitherto compelled me to expose your valuable life will still 
 exist, and prevent my openly asserting your character, in private I 
 can ‘always be your friend; fail not to apply to me when in want or 
 suffering, and so long as God giveth to me, so long will I freely 
 share with a man who feels so nobly and acts so well. If sickness 
 or want should ever assail you, and peace once more smile upon our 
 efforts, seek the gate of him whom you have so often met as Harper, 
 and he will not blush to acknowledge you in his true character.” 
 
 “ It is little that I need in this life,” said Harvey ; “ so long as 
 God gives me health and honest industry, I can never want in this 
 country ; but to know that your excellency is my friend, is a bless- 
 ing that I prize more than all the gold of England’s treasury.” 
 
 The officer stood for a few moments in the attitude of intense 
 
454 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 thought. He then drew to him the desk, and wrote a few lines on 
 a piece of paper, and gave it to the pedler. 
 
 “ That Providence destines this country to some great and glo- 
 rious fate I must believe, while I witness the patriotism that per- 
 vades the bosoms of her lowest citizens,” he said. “It must be 
 dreadful to a mind like yours to descend into the grave, branded as 
 a foe to liberty ; but you already know the lives that would be sacri- 
 ficed, should your real character be revealed. It is impossible to do 
 you justice now, but 1 fearlessly entrust you with this certificate ; 
 should we never meet again, it may be serviceable to your children.” 
 “ Children !” exclaimed the pedler, “ can I give to a family the 
 infamy of my name !” 
 
 The officer gazed at the strong emotion he exhibited with pain, 
 and he made a slight movement towards the gold ; but it was arrested 
 by the expression of his companion's face. Harvey saw the inten- 
 tion, and shook his head, as he continued more mildly — 
 
 “ It is, indeed, a treasure that your excellency gives me ; it is safe 
 too. There are men living who could say that my life was nothing 
 to me, compared to your secrets. The paper that I told you was 
 lost I swallowed when taken last by the Yirginians. It was the 
 only time I ever deceived your excellency, and it shall be the last ; 
 yes, this is, indeed, a treasure to me ; perhaps,” he continued, with 
 a melancholy smile, “ it may be known after my death who was my 
 friend ; but if it should not, there are none to grieve for me.” 
 
 “ Remember,” said the officer, with strong emotion, “ that in me 
 you will always have a secret friend; but openly I cannot know 
 you.” 
 
 “ I know it, I know it,” said Birch ; “ I knew it when I took the 
 service. ; T is probably the last time that I shall ever see your ex- 
 cellency. May God pour down his choicest blessings on your head !” 
 He paused, and moved towards the door. The officer followed him 
 with eyes that expressed deep interest. Once more the pedler turned, 
 and seemed to gaze on the placid, but commanding features of the 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 455 
 
 general with regret and reverence, and then, bowing low, he with- 
 drew. 
 
 The armies of America and France were led by their illustrious 
 commander against the enemy under Cornwallis, and terminated a 
 campaign in triumph that had commenced in difficulties. Great 
 Britain soon after became disgusted with the war ; and the indepen- 
 dence of the States was acknowledged. 
 
 As years rolled by, it became a subject of pride among the differ- 
 ent actors in the war, and their descendants, to boast of their efforts 
 in the cause which had confessedly heaped so many blessings upon 
 their country ; but the name of Harvey Birch died away among the 
 multitude of agents, who were thought to have laboured in seciet 
 against the rights of their countrymen. His image, however, was 
 often present to the mind of the powerful chief, who alone knew his 
 true character; and several times did he cause secret enquiries to 
 be made into the other’s fate, one of which only resulted in any suc- 
 cess. By this he learned that a pedler of a different name, but 
 similar appearance, was toiling through the new settlements that 
 were springing up in every direction, and that he was struggling 
 with the advance of years and apparent poverty. Death prevented 
 further enquiries on the part of the officer, and a long period passed 
 before he was again heard of. 
 
CHAPTER XXXY. 
 
 Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast 
 The little tyrant of his fields withstood — 
 
 Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest ; 
 
 Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country’s blood. 
 
 Gray . 
 
 It was thirty-three years after the interview which we have just re- 
 lated that an American army was once more arrayed against the 
 troops of England; but the scene was transferred from the banks 
 of the Hudson to those of the Niagara. 
 
 The body of Washington had long lain mouldering in the tomb; 
 but as time was fast obliterating the slight impressions of political 
 enmity or personal envy ; his name was hourly receiving new lustre, 
 and his worth and integrity each moment became more visible, not 
 only to his countrymen, but to the world. He was already the 
 acknowledged hero of an age of reason and truth ; and many a young 
 heart, amongst those who formed the pride of our army in 1814, 
 was glowing with the recollection of the one great name of America, 
 and inwardly beating with the sanguine expectation of emulating, in 
 some degree, its renown. In no one were these virtuous hopes more 
 vivid than in the bosom of a young officer who stood on the table- 
 rock, contemplating the great cataract, on the evening of the 25th 
 of July of that bloody year. The person of this youth was tall and 
 finely moulded, indicating a just proportion between strength and 
 activity ; his deep black eyes were of a searching and dazzling bright- 
 ness. At times, as they gazed upon the flood of waters that rushed 
 tumultuously at his feet, there was a stern and daring look that 
 flashed from them, which denoted the ardour of an enthusiast. But 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 457 
 
 this proud expression was softened by the lines of a mouth, around 
 which there played a suppressed archness, that partook of feminine 
 beauty. His hair shone in the setting sun like ringlets of gold, as 
 the air from the falls gently moved the rich curls from a forehead, 
 whose whiteness showed that exposure and heat alone had given 
 their darker hue to a face glowing with health. There was another 
 officer standing by the side of this favoured youth ; and both seemed, 
 by the interest they betrayed, to be gazing, for the first time, at the 
 wonder of the western world. A profound silence was observed by 
 each, until the companion of the officer that we have described sud- 
 denly started, and pointing eagerly with his sword into the abyss 
 beneath, exclaimed — 
 
 “ See ! Wharton, there is a man crossing in the very eddies of the 
 cataract, and in a skiff no bigger than an egg-shell.” 
 
 “He has a knapsack — it is probably a soldier,” returned the 
 other. “Let us meet him at the ladder, Mason, and learn his 
 tidings.” 
 
 Some time was expended in reaching the spot where the adven 
 turer was intercepted. Contrary to the expectations of the young 
 soldiers, he proved to be a man far advanced in life, and evidently 
 no follower of the camp. His years might be seventy, and they 
 were indicated more by the thin hairs of silver that lay scattered 
 over his wrinkled brow, than by any apparent failure of his system. 
 His frame was meagre and bent; but it was the attitude of habit, 
 for his sinews were strung with the toil of half a century. His 
 dress was mean, and manifested the economy of its owner, by the 
 number and nature of its repairs. On his back was a scantily fur- 
 nished pack, that had led to the mistake in his profession. A few 
 words of salutation, and, on the part of the young men, of surprise, 
 that one so aged should venture so near the whirlpools of the cata- 
 ract, were exchanged ; when the old man enquired, with a voice that 
 began to manifest the tremor of age, the news from the contending 
 
 armies. 
 
 20 
 
458 
 
 THE SPY* 
 
 “ We whipped the red-coats here the other day, among the grass 
 on the Chippewa plains,” said the one who was called Mason ; “ since 
 when, we have been playing hide-and-go-seek with the ships; but 
 we are now marching back from where we started, shaking our heads, 
 and as surly as the devil.” 
 
 “ Perhaps you have a son among the soldiers,” said his compa- 
 nion, with a milder demeanour, and an air of kindness ; “if so, tell 
 me his name and regiment, and I will take you to him.” 
 
 The old man shook his head, and, passing his hand over his silver 
 locks, with an air of meek resignation, he answered — 
 
 “No; I am alone in the world !” 
 
 “ You should have added, Captain Dunwoodie,” cried his careless 
 comrade, “ if you could find either ; for nearly half our army has 
 marched down the road, and may be, by this time, under the walls 
 of Port George, for any thing that we know to the contrary.” 
 
 The old man stopped suddenly, and looked earnestly from one of 
 his companions to the other ; the action being observed by the sol- 
 diers, they paused also. 
 
 “Did I hear right?” the stranger uttered, raising his hand to 
 screen his eyes from the rays of the setting sun ; “ what did he call 
 you?” 
 
 “ My name is Wharton Dunwoodie,” replied the youth, smiling. 
 
 The stranger motioned silently for him to remove his hat, which 
 the youth did accordingly, and his fair hair blew aside like curls of 
 silk, and opened the whole of his ingenuous countenance to the in- 
 spection of the other. 
 
 “ ? Tis like our native land!” exclaimed the old man with vehe- 
 mence, “ improving with time ; — God has blessed both.” 
 
 “ Why do you stare thus, Lieutenant Mason ?” cried Captain Dun- 
 woodie, laughing a little ; “ you show more astonishment than when 
 you saw the falls.” 
 
 “ Oh, the falls ! — they are a thing to be looked at on a moonshiny 
 night, by your aunt Sarah and that gay old bachelor, Colonel Single- 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 459 
 
 ton ; but a fellow like myself never shows surprise, unless it may be 
 at such a touch as this.” 
 
 The extraordinary vehemence of the stranger’s manner had passed 
 away as suddenly as it was exhibited, but he listened to this speech 
 with deep interest, while Dunwoodie replied a little gravely — 
 
 “ Come, come, Tom, no jokes about my good aunt, I beg; she is 
 kindness itself ; and I have heard it whispered that her youth was 
 not altogether happy. 
 
 “Wiiy, as to rumour,” said Mason, “ there goes one in Accomac, 
 that Colonel Singleton offers himself to her regularly every Valen- 
 tine’s day ; and there are some who add, that your old great-aunt 
 helps his suit.” 
 
 “ Aunt Jeanette !” said Dunwoodie, laughing; “dear good soul, 
 she thinks but little of marriage in any shape, I believe, since the 
 death of Dr. Sitgreaves. There were some whispers of a courtship 
 between them formerly, but it ended in nothing but civilities, and I 
 suspect that the whole story arises from the intimacy of Colonel 
 Singleton and my father. You know they were comrades in the 
 horse, as indeed was your own father.” 
 
 “ I know all that, of course ; but you must not tell me that the 
 particular, prim bachelor goes so often to General Dunwoodie’ s plan- 
 tation merely for the sake of talking old soldier with your father. 
 The last time I was there, that yellow, sharp-nosed housekeeper of 
 your mother’s took me into the pantry, and said that the colonel was 
 no despisable match, as she called it, and how the sale of his plan- 
 tation in Georgia had brought him — oh, Lord ! I don’t know how 
 much.” 
 
 “ Quite likely,” returned the captain ; “ Katy Haynes is no bad 
 calculator.” 
 
 They had stopped during this conversation, in uncertainty whether 
 their new companion was to be left or not. 
 
 The old man listened to each word as it was uttered, with the 
 most intense interest; but, towards the conclusion of the dialogue, 
 
460 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 the earnest attention of his countenance changed to a kind of inward 
 smile. He shook his head, and, passing his hand oyer his forehead, 
 seemed to be thinking of other times. Mason paid but little atten- 
 tion to the expression of his features, and continued — 
 
 “To me, she is selfishness embodied!” 
 
 “Her selfishness does but little harm,” returned Dunwoodie. 
 “One of her greatest difficulties is her aversion to the blacks. She 
 says, that she never saw but one that she liked.” 
 
 “And who was he?” 
 
 “ His name was Caesar; he was a house-servant of my late grand- 
 father Wharton. You don’t remember him, I believe; he died the 
 same year with his master, while we were children. Katy yearly 
 sings his requiem, and, upon my word, I believe he deserved it. I 
 have heard something of his helping my English uncle, as we call 
 General Wharton, in some difficulty that occurred in the old war. 
 My mother always speaks of him with great affection. Both Caesar 
 and Katy came to Virginia with my mother when she married. My 
 mother was — ” 
 
 “ An angel !” interrupted the old man, in a voice that startled the 
 young soldiers by its abruptness and energy. 
 
 “ Did you know her ?” cried the son, with a glow of pleasure on 
 his cheek. 
 
 The reply of the stranger was interrupted by sudden and heavy 
 explosions of artillery, which were immediately followed by con- 
 tinued volleys of small-arms, and in a few minutes the air was filled 
 with the tumult of a warm and well-contested battle. 
 
 The two soldiers hastened with precipitation towards the camp, 
 accompanied by their new acquaintance. The excitement and anxiety 
 created by the approaching fight prevented a continuance of the con- 
 versation, and the three held their way to the army, making occa- 
 sional conjectures on the cause of the fire, and the probability of a 
 general engagement. During their short and hurried walk, Captain 
 Dunwoodie, however, threw several friendly glances at the old man, 
 
THE SPy. 
 
 461 
 
 who moved over the ground with astonishing energy for his years, 
 for the heart of the youth was warmed by an eulogium on a mothei 
 that he adored. In a short time, they joined the regiment to which 
 the officers belonged, when the captain, squeezing the stranger’s 
 hand, earnestly begged that he would make enquiries after him on 
 the following morning, and that he might see him in his own tent. 
 Here they separated. 
 
 Every thing in the American camp announced an approaching 
 struggle. At a distance of a few miles, the sound of cannon and 
 musketry was heard above the roar of the cataract. The troops 
 were soon in motion, and a movement made to support the division 
 of the army which was already engaged. Night had set in before 
 the reserve and irregulars reached the foot of Lundy’s Lane, a road 
 that diverged from the river and crossed a conical eminence, at no 
 great distance from the Niagara highway. The summit of this hill 
 was crowned with the cannon of the British, and in the flat beneath 
 was the remnant of Scott’s gallant brigade, which for a long time 
 had held an unequal contest with distinguished bravery. A new line 
 was interposed, and one column of the Americans directed to charge 
 up the hill, parallel to the road. This column took the English in 
 flank, and, bayoneting their artillerists, gained possession of the 
 cannon. They were immediately joined by their comrades, and the 
 enemy was swept from the hill. But large reinforcements were join- 
 ing the English general momentarily, and their troops were too brave 
 to rest easy under the defeat. Repeated and bloody charges were 
 made to recover the guns, but in all they were repulsed with slaugh- 
 ter. During the last of these struggles, the ardour of the youthful 
 captain whom we have mentioned urged him to lead his men some 
 distance in advance, to scatter a daring party of the enemy. He 
 succeeded, but in returning to the line missed his lieutenant from 
 the station that he ought to have occupied. Soon after this repulse, 
 which was the last, orders were given to the shattered troops to 
 return to the camp. The British were nowhere to be seen, and pre- 
 
462 
 
 THE SPY. 
 
 parations were made to take in suck of the wounded as could be 
 moved. At this moment Wharton Dunwoodie, impelled by affection 
 for his friend, seized a lighted fusee, and taking two of his men, 
 went himself in quest of his body, where he was supposed to have 
 fallen. Mason was found on the side of the hill, seated with great 
 composure, but unable to walk from a fractured leg. Dunwoodie 
 saw and flew to the side of his comrade, exclaiming — 
 
 “Ah ! dear Tom, I knew I should find you the nearest man to 
 the enemy.” 
 
 “ Softly, softly; handle me tenderly,” replied the lieutenant; “no, 
 there is a brave fellow still nearer than myself, and who he can be I 
 know not. He rushed out of our smoke, near my platoon, to make 
 a prisoner or some such thing, but, poor fellow, he never came back ; 
 there he lies just over the hillock. I have spoken to him several 
 times, but I fancy he is past answering.” 
 
 Dunwoodie went to the spot, and to his astonishment beheld the 
 aged stranger. 
 
 “ It is the old man who knew my mother !” cried the youth ; “ for 
 her sake he shall have honourable burial; lift him, and let him be 
 carried in ; his bones shall rest on native soil.” 
 
 The men approached to obey. He was lying on his back, with 
 his face exposed to the glaring light of the fusee ; his eyes were 
 closed, as if in slumber ; his lips, sunken with years, were slightly 
 moved from their natural position, but it seemed more like a smile 
 than a convulsion which had caused the change. A soldier’s musket 
 lay near him; his hands were pressed upon his breast, and one of 
 them contained a substance that glittered like silver. Dunwoodie 
 stooped, and removing the limbs, perceived the place where the 
 bullet had found a passage to his heart. The subject of his last care 
 was a tin box, through which the fatal lead had gone ; and the dying 
 moments of the old man must have passed in drawing it from his 
 bosom. Dunwoodie opened it, and found a paper in which, to his 
 astonishment, he read the following : — 
 
THE SPY. 
 
 463 
 
 “ Circumstances of political importance, which involve the lives 
 and fortunes of many, have hitherto kept secret what this paper now 
 reveals. Harvey Birch has for years been a faithful and unrequited 
 servant of his country. Though man does not, may God reward 
 him for his conduct!” 
 
 “Geo. Washington.” 
 
 It was the spy oe the neutral ground, who died as he had 
 lived, devoted to his country, and a martyr to her liberties. 
 



 
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