AN INCIDENT OF THE WAR NOT UNFAMILIAR TO THE TIME.

Breakfast was just over when Robinson was seen, from the windows of Mrs. Markham's parlor, pricking along the avenue that conducted to the front of the mansion; and when he drew up his horse at the door, the family were already assembled there to greet him. The plight, both of himself and of his steed, was such as to tell the best part of his story—they had travelled far and seen rough service. The rest was supplied by the sergeant himself, who, before he moved from the spot where he had dismounted, gave a narrative of his adventures, which was listened to with great anxiety by the household.

By the sergeant's reckoning, Mrs. Markham's residence could not be more than twenty miles from the place where, at daybreak, he had encountered the British partisan, whom he had left with a full conviction that the expedition then on foot was to be directed against the country lying upon the river. These tidings spread consternation throughout the mansion, and the morning was passed in all the confusion which such an alarm might be supposed to produce. The fright of the females rendered them irresolute, and incapable of attending to the most obvious precautions necessary to meet the emergency.

In this conjuncture, Robinson felt himself bound to assume the direction of affairs. At his suggestion, the plate and such other valuables as were likely to attract the cupidity of a licentious soldiery, were secreted in hiding-places sufficiently secure to defy a hasty search. The family was advised to assume the appearance of as much composure as they could command; and the last and most emphatic injunction of the sergeant was, to provide an ample and various repast, in the hope that the ill-will of the visitants might be conciliated by the display of good cheer. All this was accordingly put into a train of accomplishment.

In the midst of these precautions, the fears of the inhabitants of the mansion were but too truly realized. It was scarcely noon when the long column of Tarleton's cavalry was descried descending the high hills that lay in the distance, and, soon afterwards, taking the road that led into the plantation.

Whilst the panic produced by this sight was still fresh the sound of bugles and trumpets showed that the invaders had already turned their steps towards the dwelling, and the next view disclosed them deploying from a wood and advancing at a full trot. The quick beat of hoofs upon the soil, and the jangling sounds of sabres shaken against the flanks of the horses, struck upon the terrified ear of the proprietress of the estate like the harsh portents of impending ruin; and in the despair and agony of her distress, she retreated hastily to her chamber, whither she summoned her female domestics, and gave way to a flood of tears. She was followed by Mildred, who, touched by the pervading disquiet of the family, participated in the alarm, and found herself overcome by a terror which she had never before experienced in all the scenes which she had lately gone through. Obeying the instinct of her present fears, our heroine cowered beside her weeping friend, in the midst of the group of clamorous servants, and awaited in mute solicitude the coming events.

The cavalry had turned aside and halted in front of a barn some distance from the dwelling-house, and a small party, consisting principally of officers attended by a sergeant's guard, were immediately afterwards seen galloping up to the door. The air of exultation exhibited in their movement, their loud jocularity and frequent laughter, resembled the burst of gladsome riot with which a party of fox-hunters are wont to announce the first springing of their game, and gave evidence of the feelings of men who set little account upon the annoyance they threatened to a peaceful and unoffending household.

When the officers of the party had dismounted and entered the hall, the first person they encountered was Sergeant Robinson, who had thoughtfully posted himself in view of the door; and now, with some awkward and ungainly bows and scraping of his feet across the floor, bade them welcome.

"What," said Tarleton, who was at the head of the intruders, "have we stumbled so soon again upon our shrewd and sensible ox! Wise Master Stephen Foster, well met! So you are the gentleman-usher to your good friend, Mrs. Markham! By my faith, the old lady is likely to have the honors of her house well administered!"

"Your sarvant, sir," said Horse Shoe, again bowing and scraping his foot with a look of imperturbable gravity. "Mought I ax your honor to stomp as lightly upon the floor as you can? My young lady is sick up stairs—and much noise is apt to flurry her narves."

"Tread daintily, gentlemen," said Tarleton, laughing, "for your gallantry's sake! A lady's nerves are as delicate as the strings of a harp, and must not be rudely struck. The damsel's page here (pointing to Horse Shoe), puts down his foot like a most considerate elephant—soft as a feather, you perceive; and I would by no means have you give so worshipful a master of courtesy cause to complain of you. As your wisdom," he added, again addressing the sergeant, "has found out, by this time, that you are in the house of Mrs. Markham, although you disremembered that this morning, I suppose you can tell whether she is at home?"

"I can answer you that she is at home, sir—that is, onless she has went out sence I saw her, which is not likely, sir."

"Then, present her Colonel Tarleton's respects, and say that he has come to offer his duty to her."

"I suppose by that, you are wishing to see the lady," replied the sergeant; "I'll let her know, sir."

Robinson retired for a few moments, and when he returned he announced to the commander that Mrs Markham was not willing to come from her chamber. "But whatsomever your honor pleases to ax after, the lady promises you shall have," continued the sergeant.

"Well, that's a condescension!—a good, comfortable lady! So, gentlemen, you see we are in luck; a broad roof over head—a larder well stored, I hope—and a cellar not altogether empty, I think I may undertake to promise. Where are your waiting-men, my nimble Ganymede? You are a sluggish oaf, fellow, not to see that soldiers must have drink!"

Alfred and Henry now entered the hall, and the former approaching Tarleton, said, with a firm but respectful tone:

"My mother has before been visited by British troops, and she had so little then to thank them for, except their departure, that the fear of meeting them again has greatly alarmed her. Our family, sir, has no older man in it than myself—and out of regard to helpless women—"

"That's enough, my pert lad," interrupted Tarleton; "I have heard of your good mother before; she is somewhat over ready in her zeal in behalf of Marion's ragamuffins: and truly I think she is more squeamish than she should be at the sight of a soldier, when she could look upon such hang-gallows knaves without shuddering. You have another man in your house, I see (directing his eye towards Henry Lindsay, who had seated himself in the hall)—and full as old, I take it, as yourself."

"I wish I were a man of full age," said Henry, looking fearlessly at the British officer, and remaining fixed in his chair.

"Why so, my gay sparrow-hawk?"

"I would have disputed with you your right to enter this door."

"These young cocks are all trained to show their game," said the Colonel to one of his companions. "Well, you are a fine fellow, and I should be happy to be better acquainted with you. A little too stiff, perhaps: but you will learn better as you grow older. You should thank me for making holiday in your school to-day."

Here Robinson interposed before Henry could make the saucy reply he meditated, by announcing that the company would find some cool water and a supply of spirits in the adjoining room. "Besides," he added, "I have told the house-folks to make ready somewhat in the way of victuals, as I judged you mought be a little hungry."

"Not badly thought of, Mr. Ajax!" said one of the officers, as the party now crowded into the room.

"Don't forget Stephen Foster," whispered Robinson, by way of admonition in regard to his assumed character, as he passed by the chair where Henry was sitting. "And keep a civil tongue in your head."

Henry nodded compliance, and then, with Alfred, left the hall, whilst the sergeant repaired to the refreshment room to offer his officious attentions to the quests.

Meanwhile, the ladies still kept to their chamber, ever and anon gazing out at the window with a solicitous and unhappy interest, and occasionally receiving the highly-colored reports of the servants, who, as often as any new subject of wonder or fear occurred to them, were plying backwards and forwards between the apartment and the head of the stair-case.

After an interval of half an hour, during which the uncouth din of laughter, of loud oaths, and of the careless swaggering of the party below, rose with a harsh note to the ear of the hostess and her companion, these sounds abruptly ceased, and it was evident that the visitors had quitted the house. It was with an emotion of delight that Mrs. Markham, from the window, beheld Colonel Tarleton and his comrades galloping towards the main body of his troops that awaited him near the barn; but, on repairing to the hall, this sudden gleam of satisfaction was as suddenly clouded, when the matron perceived a sentinel posted at the front door. As soon as she came within speech of this functionary, he threw up his hand to his brow, as he said: "The colonel commanded me to make his compliments to the ladies, and asks the honor of their company at dinner."

"Colonel Tarleton forgets himself," said Mrs. Markham, with a stately reserve that showed she had now dismissed her fears; "a brave soldier would hardly think it a triumph to insult unprotected females."

"He is here to speak for himself, madam," replied the sentinel, as Tarleton at this moment returned to the door.

The lady of the house, thus taken by surprise, firmly stood her ground, and awaited in silence the accost of the officer. Tarleton was somewhat disconcerted by this unexpected encounter. He had entered with a hurried step, but the moment he was aware of the presence of the dame, he halted and removed his cap from his head, as he made a low obeisance.

"I am too happy, madam," he said, "in the persuasion that you have overcome your unnecessary alarm at this visit; and feel pleased to be afforded an opportunity of making my respects in person."

"I can conceive no sufficient reason, Colonel Tarleton, why a defenceless house like mine should provoke the visit of such a host of armed men."

"Your house, madam, has some fame upon this border for good entertainment. It fell in my way, and you will excuse me for the freedom of saying, that I boast myself too much of a cavalier to pass it by unmarked by some token of my regard. Besides, I may add without meaning to be rude, our necessities in the article of forage, madam, are quite as great as General Marion's, who, I understand, does not scruple sometimes to take his contribution from you."

"I should more readily excuse your visit," replied the lady, "if you would time it when General Marion was levying his contribution. You might then adjust your right to the share you claim. This house is yours, sir; and it is not fit that I should remain to debate with you your claim to dispose of whatever you may find in it."

"Why, what a musty and wrinkled piece of insolence is here!" muttered the angry soldier, clenching his teeth under this rebuke as the matron withdrew. "Well, let the crones rail and the maidens weep their fill! the border is mine, and merrily will I hold it, and blithely will I light up the river, too, before I leave it! Curse on these free-spoken women! Who says they are defenceless with that supple weapon that God has given them? What ho, you bag of chaff—booby—Foster—I say! Look you; have you all the provisions in the house set out upon the tables—and don't spare your peach brandy, which we have already tasted—you have more of it. So let us have the best; I shall feast with a good will to-day, and I will do it plentifully, or your ears shall be cropped."

"Everything in the kitchen, sir, is going on at a gallop," said Horse Shoe; "and as for the drinkables, your honor shall command the house to the last jug."

"Then bestir yourself, for I am in no mood to tarry."

In a brief lapse of time an abundant board was spread, and the leaders of the corps, consisting of some twenty or thirty officers of all ranks, were gathered around it. A scene of uproar succeeded that resounded to the roof with the unfeeling and licentious mirth of those engaged in the carouse.

When they had eaten and drunk their fill, the greater portion of the guests were assembled at the front door. From this position there was to be seen, at no great distance, a small inclosure of not above ten feet square, constructed with a dark paling, above which a venerable willow drooped its branches. Towards this inclosure some five or six of the revellers repaired, to gratify an idle and, at present, a maudlin curiosity. When they arrived here, they leaned across the paling to read the inscription upon a stone that seemed but recently to have been placed there. It was a simple memorial of the death of Colonel Markham, of the Carolina militia, which was recorded to have taken place but eighteen months before on the Savannah river in an engagement with the troops under General Prevost. To this was added, in the spirit of the times and in accordance with the sentiments of the Whig leaders in the war of independence, a bitter expression of censure upon the barbarous disposition of the enemy, couched in homely but earnest phrase, and speaking the hate of the survivors in the same sentence that commended the virtues of the dead.

It was an unpropitious moment for such a tablet to meet the eye of those who gazed upon it; and when it was read aloud by the captain of a troop, whose natural temper, rendered savage by the rudeness of the war, was also at this moment exasperated almost to intoxication by the freedom of the table, he vented his curses in loud and coarse rage against the memory of him to whom the stone was dedicated. This fire of passion spread through the group around the tomb, and each man responded to the first execration by others still deeper and more fierce. Proclaiming the inscription to be an insult, they made an attack upon the paling, which was instantly demolished, and, seizing upon the largest stones at hand, they assailed the tablet with such effect as soon to break it in pieces; and then, with a useless malice, applied themselves to obliterating the inscription upon the fragments. Whilst engrossed with the perpetration of this sacrilege, their attention was suddenly aroused by the near report of a pistol, the ball of which, it was discovered, had struck into the trunk of the willow.

"I will kill some of the scoundrels, if I die for it!" was the exclamation heard immediately after the shot, and Alfred Markham was seen struggling with an officer who had seized him. The young man had been observed and followed, as he madly rushed from a wing of the mansion towards the burial-place, and arrested at the moment that he was levelling a second pistol.

"Henry, shoot him down!" he screamed to his companion, who was now approaching armed with his carbine.

"Let me go, sir! I will not see my father's tomb disturbed by ruffians."

"Loose your hands!" cried Henry, directing his passionate defiance to the individual who wrestled with Alfred, "loose your hands, I say, or I will fire upon you!"

"Fire at the drunken villains around my father's grave!" shouted Alfred.

"They shall have it," returned Henry, eagerly, "if it is the last shot I ever make." And with these words the youth levelled his piece at the same group which had before escaped Alfred's aim, but, luckily, the carbine snapped and missed fire. In the next instant Horse Shoe's broad hand was laid upon Henry's shoulder, as he exclaimed, "Why, Master Henry, have you lost your wits? Do you want to bring perdition and combustion both, down upon the heads of the whole house?"

"Galbraith Robinson, stand back!" ejaculated Henry. "I am not in the humor to be baulked."

"Hush—for God's sake, hush!—foolish boy," returned Robinson with real anger. "You are as fierce as a young panther—I am ashamed of you!"

By this time the whole company were assembled around the two young men, and the violent outbreak of wrath from those at whom the shot was aimed, as well as from others present, rose to a pitch which the authority of Tarleton in vain sought to control. Already, in this paroxysm of rage, one of the party, whose motions had escaped notice in the confusion of the scene, had hurried to the kitchen fire, where he had snatched up a burning brand, and hurled it into the midst of some combustibles in a narrow apartment on the ground floor.

The clamor had drawn Mrs. Markham and Mildred to the chamber window, and whilst they looked down with a frightened gaze upon the confused scene below, it was some moments before they became aware of the participation of Henry and Alfred in this sudden and angry broil. Mildred was the first to discern the two young men as they were dragged violently across the open space in front of the mansion by the crowd, and to hear the threats with which this movement was accompanied.

"Merciful Heaven!" she exclaimed, "they have laid hands upon Henry and Alfred—they will kill my brother, my dear brother!" Almost frantic at the danger that threatened Henry and his companion, she fled precipitately down the stair-case, and in a moment stood confronted with Colonel Tarleton and his soldiers.

"Never fear, sister," cried out Henry, who was already brought into the hall, as he saw Mildred descending the stairs. "Don't be alarmed for either Alfred or me. We are ready to confess what we did and why we did it—and Colonel Tarleton, if he is a true man, will not dare to say we did wrong."

"I charge you, Colonel Tarleton," said Mildred with a firm but excited voice, "as the soldier of a Christian nation, to save the people of this house from an inhuman and most wicked outrage. I implore you as an officer who would be esteemed valiant—and as a gentleman who would fly from dishonor—to rescue your name from the disgrace of this barbarous violence. For the sake of mercy—spare us—spare us!"

As she uttered this last ejaculation her spirit yielded to the vehemence of her feelings, and she flung herself upon her knee at the feet of the commander. "Oh, sir, do not let harm fall upon my brother. I know not what he has done, but he is thoughtless and rash."

"Mildred," said Henry, immediately rushing to his sister, and lifting her from the floor, "why should you kneel before him, or any man here? This is no place for you—get back to your room." Then turning to Tarleton, he continued, "Alfred Markham and I tried to shoot down your men, because we saw them breaking the tomb. If it was to do over again our hands are ready."

"They have insulted the memory of my father," exclaimed Alfred, "trampled upon his grave, and broken the stone that covers him—I aimed to kill the drunken coward who did it. That I say, sir, to your face."

Tarleton, for a space, seemed to be bewildered by the scene. He looked around him, as if hesitating what course to pursue, and once or twice made an effort to obtain silence in the hall; but the tumult of many voices in angry contention still continued. At last he presented his hand to Mildred, and with a courteous action conducted her to a chair, then begged her to calm her fears, as he promised her that no evil should befal either of the young men whose indiscreet tempers had occasioned the present uproar.

"In God's name! have they fired the dwelling?" he exclaimed, as at this moment a volume of smoke rolled into the hall. "What ho, there! O'Neal, McPherson. Look where this smoke comes from, and instantly extinguish the fire! Stir yourselves, gentlemen. By my hilt, if any follower of mine has been so wild as to put a torch to this house, I will hang him up to the ridge-pole of the roof! Look to it—every man! Quick, quick—there is danger that the flames may get ahead."

In an instant nearly every soldier in the hall departed in obedience to this order.

"I beg, madam," Tarleton continued, "that you will dismiss your alarm, and rest upon my pledge that no inmate of this house shall be harmed. I conjecture that I have the honor to speak to Miss Lindsay—I have been informed that that lady has lately found shelter under this roof."

"It is my name, sir—and as the daughter of a friend to your quarrel, let me conjure you to see that this house is safe; I cannot speak with you until I am assured of that."

At this juncture, Mrs. Markham was observed at the head of the first flight of stairs, pale with affright, wringing her hands, and uttering loud ejaculations of terror and grief as she made her way down to the hall:

"Oh, sir," she said, as she approached the commander, "we are harmless women, and have done nothing to call down this vengeance upon us. Take what you will—but spare my roof and save my family! God will reward you even for that act of humanity to a desolate widow."

Before Tarleton could reply to the matron, a party of officers came hastily into his presence, at the head of whom was Captain O'Neal, who reported that the fire was extinguished.

"One of the mess, to-day," he said, "heated with drink and roused by the foolish temper of these hot-headed boys, threw a blazing billet into a closet. Luckily, we reached the spot before any great harm was done. The chaps should be switched, and taught better manners. It was a silly affair and might have made mischief."

"See that the offender be arrested," replied Tarleton, "I will take measures to curb this license. These meddling youngsters, too—however, I can't blame them, they had provocation, I confess—and this war gives an edge to all the metal of the country. Instead of pop-guns now every baby has his powder and ball—dismiss the boys. To your post, captain, and order every man to join his company. Now, madam," he added in a tone of conciliation to Mrs. Markham, as soon as the hall was cleared, "I am sure you will not accuse me of incivility. My people have withdrawn—the fire is extinguished—these inconsiderate lads at liberty: have I answered your wish?"

"You have won the gratitude of a mother," replied the dame, "and the respect of an enemy. I am bound to say to you, in return, that I cheerfully surrender to you whatever you may choose to take from my estate for the supply of your soldiers. Alfred, my son, give me your arm, and help me to my chamber—I am feeble and faint. I must ask your permission to withdraw," she continued, as she courtesied to Tarleton, and ascended the stairs.

"And I, too, must take my leave," said Tarleton. "But before I go I may claim the privilege of a word with Miss Lindsay. You spoke of your father, madam? and, especially, as a friend of our arms. I have been told he lives in Virginia, Philip Lindsay, the proprietor of a seat called 'The Dove Cote,' a royalist too—am I right?"

"So, my father is known, sir."

"That name has stood you in stead to-day, madam. And this is your brother? I should think he is hardly of your father's mind in regard to our quarrel. This way, my thoughtless young gallant! It was a wild, bold, and very conceited thing of you to be challenging my unruly dragoons—and would have been no less so, if you had had twenty score of tall fellows at your back. But it is past now, and you need not apologize for it—it showed mettle at least, and we never quarrel with a man for that. May I inquire, Miss Lindsay, in what direction you travel? for I learn you are but a sojourner here. It may be in my power to insure your safe-conduct."

"I seek your general, Lord Cornwallis, on matters of private concern," replied Mildred, "and if I might venture to ask it of Colonel Tarleton, his service in affording me an unquestioned passage, would be a favor that I should gratefully acknowledge."

"The obligation will be on my side, madam. It will be a pleasure to me to believe that I can serve a lady, much more the daughter of an honorable subject of the king. Permit me, without further parley, for time presses at this moment, to say that I will leave an escort behind me under the command of a trusty officer, who will wait your pleasure to conduct you, by the safest and easiest journey to head-quarters. Your commands, madam, shall in all respects regulate his motions. My communications with his lordship shall announce your coming. Now, Miss Lindsay, with my best wishes for your safety and success, I take my leave; and, as a parting request, I venture to hope you will do me the justice to say, that Tarleton is not such a graceless sinner as his enemies have sometimes been pleased to represent him."

These last words were accompanied by a laugh, and a somewhat bluff courtesy, as the speaker swayed his rigid and ungainly figure into a succession of awkward bows by which he retreated to the door.

"I shall be happy on all occasions," replied Mildred, whilst the soldier was thus strenuously playing off the graces of a gallant, "to do justice to the kindness which I have experienced at Colonel Tarleton's hands."

"There, Mildred," said Henry, when Tarleton had disappeared, "you see things have gone very pat for us. That comes of letting these fellows see who they have to deal with. A little powder and ball is a good letter of recommendation to the best of their gang. If my carbine hadn't missed fire to-day, Tarleton would have been short by one bottle-holder, at least, when he set out to steal liquor from the country cupboards."

"It has ended well, brother," replied Mildred, "but it does not become you to boast of what you have done. It was a rash and dangerous deed, and had nearly brought ruin upon this friendly family."

"Tut, sister! you are only a woman. You wouldn't have found the colonel so civil if we hadn't taught him to look after his men."

MILDRED ARRIVES AT THE TERM OF HER JOURNEY.——THE READER IS FAVORED WITH A GLIMPSE OF A DISTINGUISHED PERSONAGE.

Cornwallis, after the battle of Camden, turned his thoughts to the diligent prosecution of his conquests. The invasion of North Carolina and Virginia was a purpose to which he had looked, from the commencement of this campaign, and he now, accordingly, made every preparation for the speedy advance of his army. The sickness of a portion of his troops and the want of supplies rendered some delay inevitable, and this interval was employed in more fully organizing the civil government of the conquered province, and in strengthening his frontier defences; by detaching considerable parties of men towards the mountains. The largest of these detachments was sent to reinforce Ferguson, to whom had been confided the operations upon the north-western border.

The chronicles of the time inform us that the British general lay at Camden until the 8th of September, at which date he set forward towards North Carolina. His movement was slow and cautious, and for some time, his head-quarters were established at the Waxhaws, a position directly upon the border of the province about to be invaded. At this post our story now finds him, the period being somewhere about the commencement of the last quarter of the month.

A melancholy train of circumstances had followed the fight at Camden, and had embittered the feelings of the contending parties against each other to an unusual degree of exasperation. The most prominent of these topics of anger was the unjust and severe construction which the British authorities had given to the obligations which were supposed to affect such of the inhabitants of South Carolina, as had, after the capitulation of Charleston, surrendered themselves as prisoners on parole, or received protections from the new government. A proclamation, issued by Sir Henry Clinton in June, annulled the paroles, and ordered all who had obtained them to render military service, as subjects of the king. This order, which the prisoners, as well as those who had obtained protections, held to be a dissolution of their contract with the new government, was disobeyed by a large number of the inhabitants, many of whom had, immediately after the proclamation, joined the American army.

Cornwallis permitted himself, on this occasion, to be swayed by sentiments unworthy of the character generally imputed to him. Many of the liberated inhabitants were found in the ranks of Gates at Camden, and several were made prisoners on the field. These latter, by the orders of the British general, were hung almost without the form of an inquiry: and it may well be supposed that in the heat of war and ferment of passion, such acts of rigor, defended on such light grounds, were met on the opposite side by a severe retribution.

Almost every day, during the British commander's advance, some of the luckless citizens of the province whom this harsh construction of duty affected, were brought into the camp of the invaders, and the soldiery had grown horribly familiar with the frequent military executions that ensued.

It was in the engrossment of the occupations and cares presented in this brief reference to the history of the time, that I have now to introduce my reader to Cornwallis.

He had resolved to move forward on his campaign. Orders were issued to prepare for the march, and the general had announced his determination to review the troops before they broke ground. A beautiful, bright, and cool autumnal morning shone upon the wide plain, where an army of between two and three thousand men was drawn out in line. The tents of the recent encampment had already been struck, and a long array of baggage-wagons were now upon the high-road, slowly moving to a point assigned them in the route of the march. Cornwallis, attended by a score of officers, still occupied a small farm-house which had lately been his quarters. A number of saddle-horses in the charge of their grooms, and fully equipped for service, were to be seen in the neighborhood of the door; and the principal apartment of the house showed that some of the loiterers of the company were yet engaged in despatching the morning meal. The aides-de-camp were seen speeding between the army and the general, with that important and neck-endangering haste which characterizes the tribe of these functionaries; and almost momentarily a courier arrived, bearing some message of interest to the commander-in-chief.

Cornwallis himself sat in an inner room, busily engaged with one of his principal officers in inspecting some documents regarding the detail of his force. Apart from them, stood, with hat in hand and in humble silence, a young ensign of infantry.

"Your name, sir?" said Cornwallis, as he threw aside the papers which he had been perusing, and now addressed himself to the young officer.

"Ensign Talbot, of the thirty-third Foot," replied the young man: "I have come by the order of the adjutant-general to inform your lordship that I have just returned to my regiment, having lately been captured by the enemy while marching with the third convoy of the Camden prisoners to Charleston."

"Ha! you were of that party! What was the number of prisoners you had in charge?"

"One hundred and fifty, so please your lordship."

"They were captured"—

"On Santee, by the rebels Marion and Horry," interrupted the ensign. "I have been in the custody of the rebels for a week, but contrived, a few days since, to make my escape."

"Where found the rebels men to master you?"

"Even from the country through which we journeyed," replied the ensign.

"The beggarly runagates! Who can blame us, Major M'Arthur," said the general, appealing to the officer by his side, with an interest that obviously spoke the contest in his own mind in regard to the justice of the daily executions which he had sanctioned: "who can blame us for hanging up these recreants for their violated faith, with such thick perfidy before our eyes? This Santee district, to a man, had given their paroles and taken my protection: and, now, the first chance they have to play me a trick, they are up and at work, attacking our feeble escorts that should, in their sickly state, have rather looked to them for aid. I will carry out the work; by my sword, it shall go on sternly. Enough, Ensign, back to your company," he said, bowing to the young officer, who at once left the room.

"What is your lordship's pleasure regarding this Adam Cusack?" inquired M'Arthur.

"Oh, aye! I had well nigh forgotten that man. He was taken, I think, in the act of firing on a ferry-boat at Cheraw?"

"The ball passed through the hat of my Lord Dunglas," said M'Arthur.

"The lurking hound! A liege subject turning truant to his duty; e'en let him bide the fate of his brethren."

M'Arthur merely nodded his head, and Cornwallis, rising from his chair, strode a few paces backwards and forwards through the room. "I would tune my bosom to mercy," he said, at length, "and win these dog-headed rebels back to their duty to their king by kindness; but good-will and charity towards them fall upon their breasts like water on a heated stone, which is thrown back in hisses. No, no, that day is past, and they shall feel the rod. We walk in danger whilst we leave these serpents in the grass. Order the gentlemen to horse, Major M'Arthur; we must be stirring. Let this fellow, Cusack, be dealt with like the rest. Gentlemen," added the chief, as he appeared at the door amidst the group who awaited his coming, "to your several commands!"

Captain Brodrick, the principal aide, at this moment arrested the preparations to depart, by placing in Cornwallis's hand a letter which had just been brought by a dragoon to head-quarters.

The general broke the seal, and, running his eye over the contents, said, as he handed the letter to the aide, "This is something out of the course of the campaign; a letter from a lady, now at the picquet-guard, and it seems she desires to speak with me. Who brought the billet, captain?"

"This dragoon, one of a special escort from the legion. They have in charge a party of travellers, who have journeyed hither under Tarleton's own pledge of passport."

"Captain," replied Cornwallis, "mount and seek the party. Conduct them to me without delay. What toy is this that brings a lady to my camp?"

The aide-de-camp mounted his horse, and galloped off with the dragoon. He was conducted far beyond the utmost limit of the line of soldiers, and at length arrived at a small outpost, where some fifty men were drawn up, under the command of an officer of the picquet-guard, which was about returning to join the main body of the army. Here he found Mildred and Henry Lindsay, and their two companions, Horse Shoe and old Isaac, attended by the small escort furnished by Tarleton. This party had been two days on the road from Mrs. Markham's, and had arrived the preceding night at a cottage in the neighborhood, where they had found tolerable quarters. They had advanced this morning, at an early hour, to the corps de garde of the picquet, where Mildred preferred remaining until Henry could despatch a note to Lord Cornwallis apprising him of their visit.

When Captain Brodrick rode up, the travellers were already on horseback and prepared to move. The aide-de-camp respectfully saluted Miss Lindsay and her brother, and after a short parley with the officer of the escort, tendered his services to the strangers to conduct them to head-quarters.

"The general, madam," he said, "would have done himself the honor to wait on you, but presuming that you were already on your route to his quarters, where you might be better received than in the bivouac of an outpost, he is led to hope that he consults your wish and your comfort both, by inviting you to partake of such accommodation as he is able to afford you."

"My mission would idly stand on ceremony, sir," replied Mildred. "I thank Lord Cornwallis for the promptness with which he has answered my brother's message."

"We will follow you, sir," said Henry.

The party now rode on.

Their path lay along the skirts of the late encampment upon the border of an extensive plain, on the opposite side of which the army was drawn out; and it was with the exultation of a boy, that Henry, as they moved forward, looked upon the long line of troops glittering in the bright sunshine, and heard the drums rolling their spirited notes upon the air.

When they arrived at a point where the road emerged from a narrow strip of forest, they could discern, at the distance of a few hundred paces, the quarters of the commander-in-chief. Immediately on the edge of this wood, a small party of soldiers attracted the attention of the visitors by the earnest interest with which they stood around a withered tree, and gazed aloft at its sapless and huge boughs. Before anything was said, Mildred had already ridden within a few feet of the circle, where turning her eyes upwards she saw the body of a man swung in the air by a cord attached to one of the widest-spreading branches. The unfortunate being was just struggling in the paroxysms of death, as his person was swayed backwards and forwards, with a slow motion, by the breeze.

"Oh, God! what a sight is here!" exclaimed the lady. "I cannot, will not go by this spot. Henry—brother—I cannot pass."

The aide-de-camp checked his horse, and grasped her arm, before her brother could reach her, and Horse Shoe, at the same moment, sprang to the ground and seized her bridle.

"I should think it but a decent point of war to keep such sights from women's eyes," said Robinson, somewhat angrily.

"Peace, sirrah," returned the aide, "you are saucy. I trust, madam, you are not seriously ill? I knew not of this execution, or I should have spared you this unwelcome spectacle. Pray, compose yourself, and believe, madam, it was my ignorance that brought you into this difficulty."

"I will not pass it," cried Mildred wildly, as she sprang from her horse and ran some paces back towards the wood, with her hands covering her face. In a moment Henry was by her side.

"Nay, sister—dear sister," he said, "do not take it so grievously. The officer did not know of this. There now, you are better; we will mount again, and ride around this frightful place."

Mildred gradually regained her self-possession, and after a few minutes was again mounted and making a circuit through the wood to avoid this appalling spectacle.

"Who is this man?" asked Henry of the aide-de-camp, in a half whisper; "and what has he done, that they have hung him?"

"It is an every-day tale," replied the officer; "a rebel traitor, who has broken his allegiance, by taking arms against the king in his own conquered province. I keep no count of these fellows; but I believe this is a bold rebel by the name of Adam Cusack, that was caught lately at the Cheraw ferry; and our boobies must be packing him off to head-quarters for us to do their hangman's work."

"If we were to hang all of your men that we catch," replied Henry, "hemp is an article that would rise in price."

"What, sir," returned the officer, with a look of surprise, "do you class yourself with the rebels? What makes you here under Tarleton's safeguard? I thought you must needs be friends, at least, from the manner of your coming."

"We ride, sir, where we have occasion," said Henry, "and if we ride wrong now, let his lordship decide that for us, and we will return."

By this time the company had reached head-quarters, where Mildred found herself in the presence of Lord Cornwallis.

"Though on the wing, Miss Lindsay," said his lordship, as he respectfully met the lady and her brother upon the porch of the dwelling-house, "I have made it a point of duty to postpone weighty matters of business to receive your commands."

Mildred bowed her head, and after a few words of courtesy on either side, and a formal introduction of herself and her brother to the general as the children of Philip Lindsay, "a gentleman presumed to be well known to his lordship," and some expressions of surprise and concern on the part of the chief at this unexpected announcement, she begged to be permitted to converse with him in private. When, in accordance with this wish, she found herself and her brother alone with the general, in the small parlor of the house, she began, with a trembling accent and blanched cheek—

"I said, my lord, that we were the children of Philip Lindsey, of the Dove Cote, in Amherst, in the province of Virginia; and being taught to believe that my father has some interest with your lordship—"

"He is a worthy, thoughtful, and wise gentleman, of the best consideration amongst the friends of the royal cause," interrupted the earl, "so speak on, madam, and speak calmly. Take your time, your father's daughter shall not find me an unwilling listener."

"My father was away from home," interposed Henry, "and tidings came to us that a friend of ours was most wickedly defamed and belied, by a charge carried to the ears of your lordship; as we were told, that Major Arthur Butler of the Continental army who had been made a prisoner by your red-coats somehow or other—for I forget how—but the charge was that he had contrived a plan to carry off my father from the Dove Cote—if not to kill him, which was said, besides—and upon that charge, it was reported that your people were going to hang or shoot him—hang, I suppose, from what we just now saw over here in the woods—and that your lordship had given orders to have the thing put off until the major could prove the real facts of the case."

"The tale is partly true, young sir," said Cornwallis. "We have a prisoner of that name and rank."

"My sister Mildred and myself, thinking no time was to be lost, have come to say to your lordship that the whole story is a most sinful lie, hatched on purpose to make mischief, and most probably by a fellow by the name of——"

"My brother speaks too fast," interrupted Mildred. "It deeply concerned us to do justice to a friend in this matter. If my father had been at home a letter to your lordship would have removed all doubts; but, alas! he was absent, and I knew not what to do, but to come personally before your lordship, to assure you that to the perfect knowledge of our whole family, the tale from beginning to end is a malicious fabrication. Major Butler loves my father, and would be accounted one of his nearest and dearest friends."

Cornwallis listened to this disclosure with a perplexed and bewildered conjecture, to unravel the strange riddle which it presented to his mind.

"How may I understand you, Miss Lindsay?" he said; "this Major Butler is in the service of Congress?"

"Even so. Your lordship speaks truly."

"Your father—my friend, Philip Lindsay, is a faithful and persevering loyalist."

"To the peril of his life and fortune," replied Mildred.

"And yet Butler is his friend?"

"He would be esteemed so, if it please your lordship—and, in heart and feeling, is so."

"He is related to your family, perhaps?"

"Related in affection, my lord, and plighted love," said Mildred, blushing and casting her eyes upon the ground.

"So!—Now I apprehend. And there are bonds between you?"

"I may not answer your lordship," returned the lady. "It only imports our present business to tell your lordship, that Arthur Butler never came to the Dove Cote but with the purest purpose of good to all who lodged beneath its roof. He has never come there but that I was apprised of his intent; and never thought rose in his heart that did not breathe blessings upon all that inhabit near my father. Oh, my lord, it is a base trick of an enemy to do him harm; and they have contrived this plot to impose upon your lordship's generous zeal in my father's behalf."

"It is a strange story," said Cornwallis. "And does your father know nothing of this visit? Have you, Miss Lindsay, committed yourself to all the chances of this rude war, and undertaken this long and toilsome journey, to vindicate a rebel charged with a most heinous device of perfidy? It is a deep and painful interest that could move you to this enterprise."

"My lord, my mission requires a frank confidence. I have heard my father say you had a generous and feeling heart—that you were a man to whom the king had most wisely committed his cause in this most trying war: that your soul was gifted with moderation, wisdom, forecast, firmness—and that such a spirit as yours was fit to master and command the rude natures of soldiers, and to compel them to walk in the paths of justice and mercy. All this and more have I heard my father say, and this encouraged me to seek you in your camp, and to tell you the plain and undisguised truth touching those charges against Major Butler. As Heaven above hears me, I have said nothing but the simple truth. Arthur Butler never dreamt of harm to my dear father."

"He is a brave soldier," said Henry, "and if your lordship would give him a chance, and put him before the man who invented the lie, he would make the scoundrel eat his words, and they should be handed to him on the major's sword-point."

"The gentleman is happy" said the chief, "in two such zealous friends. You have not answered me—is your father aware of this visit, Miss Lindsay?"

"He is ignorant even of the nature of the charge against Arthur Butler," replied the lady. "He was absent from the Dove Cote when the news arrived; and, fearing that delay might be disastrous, we took the matter in hand ourselves."

"You might have written."

"The subject, so please your lordship, was too near to our hearts to put it to the hazard of a letter."

"It is a warm zeal, and deserves to be requited with a life's devotion," said Cornwallis. "You insinuated, young sir, just now, that you suspected the author of this imputed slander."

"My brother is rash, and speaks hastily," interrupted Mildred.

"Whom were you about to name?" asked the general, of Henry.

"There was a man named Tyrrel," replied the youth, "that has been whispering in my father's ear somewhat concerning a proposal for my sister" (here Mildred cast a keen glance at her brother and bit her lip) "and they say, love sometimes makes men desperate, and I took a passing notion that, may be, he might have been at the bottom of it; I know nothing positively to make me think so, but only speak from what I have read in books."

Cornwallis smiled as he replied playfully: "Tush, my young philosopher, you must not take your wisdom from romances. I have heard of Tyrrel, and will stand his surety that love has raised no devil to conjure such mischief in his breast. What will satisfy your errand hither, Miss Lindsay?"

"A word from your lordship, that no harm shall befall Arthur Butler beyond the necessary durance of a prisoner of war."

"That is granted you at once," replied the general, "granted for your sake, madam, in the spirit of a cavalier who would deny no lady's request. And I rather grant it to you, because certain threats have been sent me from some of the major's partisans, holding out a determination to retaliate blood for blood. These had almost persuaded me to run, against my own will, to an extreme. I would have you let it be known, that as a free grace to a lady, I have done that which I would refuse to the broad sword bullies of the mountains. What next would you have?"

"Simply, an unmolested passage hence, beyond your lordship's posts."

"That too shall be cared for. And thus the business being done, with your leave, I will go to more unmannerly employments."

"A letter for your lordship," said an officer, who at this moment entered the door, and putting a packet into the general's hand, retired.

Cornwallis opened the letter and read it.

"Ha! by my faith, but this is a rare coincidence! This brings matter of interest to you, Miss Lindsay. My officer, Macdonald, who had Butler in custody, writes me that, two days since, his prisoner had escaped."

"Escaped!" exclaimed Mildred, forgetting in whose presence she spoke, "unhurt—uninjured. Thank Heaven for that!"

Cornwallis sat for a moment silent, as a frown grew upon his brow, and he played his foot against the floor, abstracted in thought. "These devils have allies," he muttered, "in every cabin in the country. We have treachery and deceit lurking behind every bush. We shall be poisoned in our pottage by these false and hollow knaves. If it gives you content, madam," he said, raising his voice, "that this Major Butler should abuse the kindness or clemency of his guard and fly from us at the moment we were extending a boon of mercy to him through your supplications, you may hereafter hold your honorable soldier in higher esteem for his dexterity and cunning."

"I pray your lordship to believe," said Mildred, with a deep emotion, which showed itself in the rich, full tones of her voice, "that Major Butler knows nothing of my coming hither. I speak not in his name, nor make any pledge for him. If he has escaped, it has only been from the common instinct which teaches a bird to fly abroad when it finds the door of his cage left open by the negligence of his keepers. I knew it not—nor, alas! have I heard aught of his captivity, but as I have already told your lordship. He is an honorable soldier, rich in all the virtues that may commend a man: I would your lordship knew him better and in more peaceful times."

"Well, it is but a peevish and silly boy," said Cornwallis, "who whines when his pie is stolen. The war has many reckonings to settle, and we contrive to make one day's profit pay another's loss. The account for the present is balanced; and so, Miss Lindsay, without discourtesy, I may leave you, with a fair wish for a happy and prosperous journey back to your father's roof. To the good gentleman himself, I desire to be well remembered. And to show you that this briery path of war has not quite torn away all the habiliments of gentleness from us, I think it dutiful to tell you that, as I have become the confidant of a precious love-tale, wherein I can guess some secret passage of mystery is laid which should not be divulged, I promise you to keep it faithfully between ourselves. And when I reach the Dove Cote, which, God willing, under the banners of St. George, I do propose within three months to do, we may renew our confidence, and you shall have my advice touching the management of this dainty and delicate affair. And now, God speed you with a fair ride, and good spirits to back it!"

"I am much beholden to your lordship's generosity," said Mildred, as Cornwallis rose with a sportive gallantry and betook himself to his horse.

"Come hither, Mr. Henry," he said after he had mounted, "farewell, my young cavalier. You will find a few files of men to conduct you and your party beyond our posts: and here, take this," he added, as now on horseback, he scrawled off a few lines with a pencil, upon a leaf of his pocket-book, which he delivered to the youth, "there is a passport which shall carry you safe against all intrusion from my people. Adieu!"

With this last speech the commander-in-chief put spurs to his horse, and galloped to the plain, to review his troops and commence the march by which he hoped to make good his boast of reaching the Dove Cote.

How fortune seconded his hopes may be read in the story of the war.