OHIO STATE
UNIVERSITY




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Entered according to Act, of Congress, in the year 1871,
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By Blmm AND Comm, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington
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4
ly in check. Their dealings with the enemy
were carried on with the utmost sccresy and
caution, and the service that they rendered
their Royal Master, whom they yet loved and
wished to serve, consisted for the most part
of information in I‘Q’".l‘tl to the movpments
of the Colonial Army, and supplies furnish-
ed to scouting parties and marauders.
In 1776 there crusted in the southwestern
extremity of the State quite a village, con-
taining some four or five hundred inhabi-
tents, by for the greaterpart of whom were
Tories. A more romantic and alluring spot
for a rural settlement itwould be difficult to
select, in any portion of the globe. It was
situated in the centre of a beautiful valley,
or rather basin, of some three or four miles
in diameter, surrounded, except a slight
chasm at its northren and southern extremi-
ties, by high, steep hills, covered to their
very summits with staunch and lofiy forest
trees. The chasms, or gorges of which we
nave made mention, admitted the entrance
and departure of asmsll, yet wild and spark-
ling rivulet, which run in a southerly direc~
tion, crooked and turned in a hundred fanq'
hi1 ways, through the rich, smooth bottom
lands, as if loth to leave so bright and beau-
tiful aplace, fairly dividing the little village,
in its tortuous course, and at length disap-
pearing through the chasm at the southern
side of the encircling hills.
A roadwhichled tosome of the larger
and more commercial settlements, followed
the right bank of the stream through the
basin, and stretching from the sedgy banks
to the circle of frowning hills, were the
neat, and well enclosed fields of the hus-
bandman. Some half way through the val-
ley,‘a torrent came dashing and foaming
down the hill-side, whose floods, after being
stopped at the base by a rough log dam, un-
til they had ministeredlto the interest of 0.
THE SCOU'I OF
certain rotund and grey leaded miller, stole
gently and silently to 1.526 westward, until
they mingled themselves with the waves at
the rivulet. Not one of the unseemly stumps
or charred or limbless trees, so generally to
be found on the new lands of the young
farms of this continent, pained the eye of
presented a drawback upon the beauties or
this lovely little nook. These had all been
carefully eradicated, and except here and
there a broad-spreading elm, or straight and
red-leaved maple, no tree or stump met the
gaze, until the eye rested upon the sides or
the neighboring hills. '
Most of the dwellings of the little Vil-
lage were composed of logs, but there was
an air of rustic taste and neatness about
them, that filled the gazer with admiration.
The logs of which they were composed
were generally squared and neatly “ white-
washed," whilst the door, porches and win-
dows were, in the summer season, trellissed
with wild vines and twining flowers, pleas-
ant to the senses from their bright colors
and sweet odors. Nearly every dwelling
fronted a neat and tastily arranged yard,
covered with a soft velvet turf, dotted here
and there with flowers, and interesected
with little walks, showing at once the cheer-
ing and refining presence of woman. By
far the greater portion of these rustic dwel-
lings were of one story, with a “lean-to”
attached to the rear, though some made
more pretensions, not only to “respectt-ihilb
ity of size,” but to architectural beauty
Foremost among this latter class, was the
village inn, situated about midway of the
single street. It stood a few feet back
from the line of its neighbors, in order that
a more extensive “green,” fringed with
huge-topped elms, might ofi‘er its attraction-
to the traveller’s eye. It possessed a good
1y breath of ’fi'ont, and as an additional


‘t
8
moments had been brought almost to a stanp
still.
Beside the worthy landlord, the room con-
tained many of the ‘ first men’ of the settle-
ment. There was Esquire Frisbee, the J us-
tice of the Peace for the township. He was
a tall, spare man, slightly gray, who owned
and cultivated a large farm in the immedi-
ate vicinity, and who, as his commission was
signed'by Governor Gage and several other
crown dignitaries, was, of course, a. violent
Tory, There was also the village physr-
can“ Doctor Bleed, a, man Just past the mid-
dlsrpgsbof a short and apoplectic build, who
possessed a never-ceasing supply of small
talk, and who, as he had a keen relish for
bread and butter, was also a Tory. The
Ethnolmaster was also seated in the digni-
circle, so also were one or two of the
Tsniall‘ dealers of the hamlet, beside others or
lesser note, all of whom were Tories, no one
present in the assembly.
'L l ‘Gersham Morse had arranged his p0-
sitihn to his liking, he hemmed loudly once
lirltwic'e, “and given several‘other premoni-
tor'y symptoms of an intention to say some _
Fillingiie’ turned solemnly toward the Jus-
Ih'oo-ofthe Peace, who sat nearest him, and
nub-'- -' -
"" “So,"squire, it appears that we are to
haveisome new inhabitants in Gieamington!”
“" lJ“mt!”'1"eturued the ’squiie, tm'ning quick-
ly thward’the landlord, “ I had not heard the
pews. ,. Does the new Icomer intend to take
aim??? - :: In", ».-
r .
5!,“1 ldoln’t 'exa-o-tly know,” replied Ger-
shmp'nasort of half ‘hesitating manner,
r$butclrshould r-a-t~her think not, from his
mnfvritins” ‘ i. '
"‘ Gh'! then he has written, has he ?”
:..4 “Yes,” replied Gersham in a mysterious
tone; " he has sent on a letter to me, and
“Mn-+03 “M I' should obtain a convenient
friendly to his sovereign.” ,J ,
THE SCOUT 01"
and retired house for his use, and rethirl
know when he can take possession. He sp
pears to be in a great hurry to get here.”
“ Where does he come from P” asked Fris -
bee, somewhat interested in the landlord’s
information.
“Oh! from Boston. He’ a relative of
Gage’s, and he says that domestic affliction
drives him to retirement in some distant col
ony.”
‘f This colony is .not very distant from
Boston, I sure,” said Frisbee. , I
“Why, no, to be sure not;_but there are some other considerations that
may have an influence with him. He men
tions one, in particular.” ‘
“ What one is that P” I V
“ Why, he says he has heard a good so
count of the loyalty of the people hereaway,
and that is a great desideratum with a
warm friend of the King. , (a A
“ Certainly! very true!” replied Frisbee.
“ Well—I hope he may come. If he don’t
take a farm, he must rich, and as he is the
King’s friend, he will be a decided acquisi-
tion.” ,_ k
“ Decidcdly so! Most decidedly so!”
exclaimed. Doctor Bleed, who had been a
listener to the conversation, and now for
the first time interposed his voice. “ The
more such menv we get here, the ._better.
Thank God there is at least one ‘corner of
the country, in which a man darespeak his
honest mind, even if it. happens to be
H V '.-l "
“ Well said, Doctor, and very true, too,’
chimed in'the-fichoolmaster, who thought
this a favorable opportumtyto join in the
conversation. “ I 'am ' thinking that. the
time is not very far distant whenit wont b1
dangerous for a man to advocate his sov
ereign’ rights, in any part of the country
let alone this little corner!”


“ I too,” replied Gersham. “ The Green
Mountain Boys are remarkably fine spirited,
because the rebels showed pretty good
blood at Lexington and Bunker Hill, but
just wait ’till the reg’lar armies organize
and take the field; they’ll scatter the rag-
mufiins like chafil They can’t stand the
fire at all.”
“Who is this new-comer about whom
you were speaking just now P” queried the
schoolmaster, turning to the ’squire as the
most dignified person in the room.
, ‘2 Morse must tell you,” replied Frisbee ;
“ he has just been telling me about it.”
Thus appealed to, Gersham looked wise,
and repeated the announcement, that a new
comer, a staunch Tory, and a rich man,
was about to reside among them. He also
added that his name was Sinclair.
This announcement furnished fresh ma-
terials for a renewal of the general conver-
sation, which was accurdingly recommenced
amidst several calls for “ toddy” which Ger-
sham hastened to attend to with real busi-
ness-like alacrity. Various were the con~
jectures and surmises in regard to the char-
acter of the resident expectant, butv all
came easily to the conclusion that he was
a distinguished individual, because he was
a relative of the governor of Massachusetts
Colony.
and extensive plans laid out for the future,
and before the company dispersed, the
question was seriously discussed, whether
the Whigs should be driven from the val-
toy, or he suffered to remain. The matter
was not finally disposed of, but by mutual
cement was laid over till another time.
It was past the “hour ayont the tral,”
when Gersham Morse closed the doors of
the; Mounted Monarch" for the night.—
burying the glowing embers
> was bmri'h the she Imam?“ by
Meme?" was lights-11¢ we
Great expectations were formed,
an ' . , Fan-vs ="
IDS.
himself another mug of the exhilleratmg
roddy,‘ and then retired to bed, butnot to
sleep. He was in the first place compelled
to listen patiently, for near an hour, to the
gmmblings of his better half, who was, or
pretended to be sorely vexed, at being
aroused from a refreshing , slumbenat. that
unseasonable hour, and who .laborod to convince him that she .was in fibldullumpr
not only by gradually raising her voice; to it
very highest pitch, but also by sundry-hard
nudges in the ribs, with the point Oflll'lb
bow peculiarly sharp.
I ' ,
. :I 11“" ":1‘JL‘J
Gersham was an admirable tactician, and
he made no reply to her harangue, and no
resistance to her elbow. The consequence
was, that Mrs. Meore soon cooled doing on
“evaporated,” as Gersham was Wont to say
and eventually she fell asleep, which fac
was proclaimed by sundry nasal intenations'
which waked the echoes of the sleeping
room, as if the cooks and scullions got up a concert of conch-shells and
1mm“ ‘ 4 b r" .l v'.":.|
In the next place, Gersham could not
sleep, for he had an important mission to
execute forthwith. z-TO him was entrusted
the business of selectinga residence for a
distinguished relative of Governor .Gage,
and the commission was one of vast im-
portance. Should he make a good selee
tion; one that would please his employer
and his family; he would undoubtedly be
liberally rewarded; but if on the cmtrary
the selection should hes unfortunate, as
would never be forgiven, and any little in-
convenience that the gentleman or- the la»
dies of his family might sufi'er, would, most
probably be laid to his charge; ‘Besldsl
all this, his compensation would be greatly
reduced, which circumstance'iMd him
more than any fears be entertained of his
“it”?! We‘ll“: '1'"! 'ol'tfl'fg 17-:
_.v ~.‘J ‘0"
I _ ..
"'41—". s' :r _


THE SILVER POND.
used with brooms, pails, mops, brushes,
and all the necessary implements for the
task, and forthwith the building was swept,
scrubbed, washed and rinsed, until Mrs.
Morse declared upon her honor, that ‘ speck
or blemish was no where to be seen.’ Ger-
sham and the domestics coincided with this
opinion, and the house was again left to
solitude.
As the time designated for Mr. Sinclair
to make his appearance approached, excite-
ment and curiosity increased in the little
hamlet. Every night, the Justice, the Doc—
tor, the Schoolmaster, and all the lesser
lights, met at the bar-room of the Mounted
Monarch, discussing the news and laying
plans for future operations, so soon as their
forces should be reinforced by the arrival
of the distinguished relative of Governor
Gage. They declared vehemently, that
Sinclair was a great man; a lion; in fact it
could be no other way; for he had long
resided at the head quarters of British influ-
ence in New England, and beside that, was
the blood connexion of a live Governor.
All these high-sounding rumors, reached
the ears of the Whigs, and they heard them
Iith hesvv hearts. Already were the!
I!
driven hither and thither, l'y the Will d
their masters, and they feared the conse-
quences, should more wealth and influence
be brought to bear against them. The!
well knew that Sinclair must be an influen
tial man with the leaders of the British in¢
fiuence, if he was indeed a relative of the
acting Governor of Massachusetts, and
grown suspicious from a long acquaintance
with Tory character, they fancied that his
wish for retirement, which was alledged u
a reason for his coming amongst them,w_u
only a cloak to lull suspicion, and cover up
his real design.
Hopes and fears hung upon the arrival G
Mr. Sinclair. Time meanwhile, seemed to
the villagers of both parties, to move heavily
along, for so interested had all become,“
they counted the days as they rolled put.
Unconscious of the anxieties he had created,
Mr. Sinclair was busily employed in his arrangements 'for his departure from
Boston, and was soon to take up his reIi
dence in a village, where strange and unet-
pected vicissitudes would befall him, no)
as in his gloomiest moments, he had III'
dreamed ofl
n


THESCOUT OI'
,
I'll,
i I March, with its coquettish sunshine, rough
winds, and biting frosts, at length passed
:laway, and April, the month of buds and
,nrornises,’ came. The snow had entirely
from the valley, and from the
“hill-sides. The little rivulet was no longer
,laftrirbid' stream, but pure and limpid its
' tiny waves rolled southward, with a lows
"and plaintive murmur. Dim streaks of the
( pedest green, could be'distinguished amid
' the limbs'of the forest trees, and the blast-
tlocks‘once more sported in. the tender
“meadows. Alfew of the earlier birds had
vinade their appearance, and poured forth
their sweetest lays from the hedges and
trees.
paring for his fast approaching labors, and
The husbandman was busily pre-
life and activity were every where visible.
Gersham Morse had received another
epistle, which informed him that the long-
expected Sinclair had actually set out for
Gleamington, and that he would soon take
possession of his prepared dwelling. Jour-
aeying was no easy matter in those days.
Canals, rail-roads and steamboats, were not
yet dreamed of, and in the colonies, even
the art of wagon-making was but imper-
fectly understood. The roads too, were
wild and rough, and almost impassable,
being for the most part, but military open-
rngs through the forest, made during the
pumerous Indian wars stter lant upon the
CHAPTER III.
first settlement of the country, many a
which. were at this time nearly impassable,
from the brush and bushes that had grown
up in them.
Mr. Sinclair did not, consequently, arrive
until several days after he 'had been posi-
tively expected. He was truly a man of
wealth, and one too, who loved his case
and the comforts of life, say nothing
about a slight penchant forjits luxuries, and
he had therefore loaded down several teams
with choice provisions and delicacies, be—
sides others that carried the furniture neces~
sary to an establishment in house-keeping
Many and various were the difficulties that
had retarded their progress, and the pa-
tience of the aristocrat was entirely ex‘
hausted, long before he entered the valley
in which was situated his future residence.
Just before sunset, on a bright, warm
April day, the long line of heavy wagons,
comprising Sinclair’s means of transporta-
tion, entered the southern chasm in the
range of hills encircling Gleamington, and
for the first time, he obtained aview of the
village and of the scenery that surrounded
it. He drew the reins of the horses at-
tached to the wagon in which he rode, and
gazed long and admiringly at the beauti-
ful prospect that met his view
Mr. Joseph Sinclair had passed the mo
ridian of life, and was somewhat more “he


THE SILVER POND
Hfiy years of age. In person he was short,
stoutly built, and somewhat corpulent—
His features were anything but prepossess-
ing. His eyes were large, prominent, and
of a light gray color, shaded by heavy eye-
brows that had once been black, but which
were now plentifully besprinkled with curl-
mg white hairs. His nose was large and
coarse, and so was his mouth, and a. heavy
scar, running from the inner corner of he
lefi eye, across his nose, and the whole
length of his right cheek, gave his natural-
ly austere face, an almost hideous expres-
sion.
He was accompanied by three persons,
who sat near him in the wagon; two fe-.
males, and a lad some eighteen or nine-
teen years of age. One of the females
'was his wife, and the other an orphan
niece, who had been left to his care and
guidance by a deceased sister. The lad
4 was the son of an old friend, who had fallen
in a skirmish during the last French war,
and whose person and fortune had ever
since been cared for by Sinclair.
The vehicle in which they travelled, con-
tained two seats, the front one being occu-
pied by Sinclair and the boy, whose name
was Augustus Fitzgerald, whilst Mrs. Sin-
clair and the niece occupied the other.—
As the wagon stopped on entering the val-
ley, the ladies drew aside the heavy veils
that had screened their faces from the
View, as well as from the tanning winds of
the early spring, giving the beholders, if
any there were, a chance to gaze upon their
charms.
Mrs. Sinclair's countenance once seen,
could never be forgotten. There were such
a blending of almost unearthly beauty, with
the ravages of care and grief; such an un-
natural commingling of the graces of wo-
manhood, with the strong marks of prema-I
13
ture decay, and corroding sorrow, that the
efl'ects were fairly startling; stamping the
picture at once upon the memory so indeli-
bly that time could never effect! it. Al~
though appearing somewhat older, she was
Her form was rather
above the medium height, and had evident-
ly been full and voluptuous in other days,
scarcely twenty-two.
but now it was thin and wasted, and some-
what bent with snrrow. Her bright au-
burn tresses amidst which, the sunlight
loved to linger, shaded a brow of the
most p fect beauty. Her eyes were black
and brill ant, and, although frequently suf-
fused with tears, were capable of great ex-
pression. She was neatly, yet plainly habi-
ted in black, which added to the death-like
palor of her cheeks, but which well accord-
ed with the subdued and melancholy ex
pression of her looks-
The niece, Miss Rachel Morris, had just
attained her sixteenth year, and was a gay,
jovous, handsome girl, with an unyielding
spirit, and possessed of talents and educa-
tion of the highest order. Her dark gray
eyes flushed with the fires of youth and in-
telligence, her cheeks were blooming with
the blush of health, and her full, red lips
were constantly wreathing with smiles,
causing not only a display of infinite good
humor, but of two rows of teeth of the most
dazzling whiteness. She was the perfect
counterpart of the sorrow-stricken being
that sat beside her.
Mr. Augustus Fitzgerald was a comely
youth, compactly, yet lightly built, with a
keen, resless hasel eye, and abold and ‘
open forehead, around which were thick ‘
clusters of dark brown hair. His none was
finely turned, and his mouth gave promise ,
of earnestness and decision of character,
both of which traits he possessed inlun enu-
nent degree. His glance was often turned


F , f
.r .r .v _ THE SILVER POND.
ehnsber department of the new household,
and at the usual hour, dinnner made its ap-
pearance, and was announced, when for the
first time that morning, Sinclair laid down
ais'pipe', and entered his domicil. .
During the meal, neither Mrs. Sinclair or
ser husband uttered a syllable, which did
not appear at all surprising to their young
table companions, for they kept up a lively
conversation between themselves, in regard
to their new grounds, and the various sports
and pastimes that their new situation would
sfi'ord them. As if perfectly acquainted
with tbs rules of thelr guardian‘s household,
as well as his modes and habits, the uncer-
emoniously left the room and the table after
completing their meal. _
As soon as the door of the dining-room
had closed upon their retiring figures, Sin-
clair drew back a foot from the table, and
bestowing a glance upon the pale face of his
wife, for the first time that day, he address-
ed her, with somewhat of ‘sternness in his
look andytone. L J i i .
“ Itrust, Mrs. Sinclair, that you are per-
fectly satisfied with your new home, and
that you will entirely give over your melan-
choly and disagreeable moping. I am sure
that even amonk would be satisfied with
this rural and retired spot, that I have ob-.
tained for you at such trouble and expense!”
“ Your kindness is very disinterested in-
deed; especially when we take into consid-
eration the fact that I knew nothing about
your mtentions until I was ordered to get
myself in readiness for a removal,” said his
wife, with something of spirit in her voice.
“However,” she added, “if it please you
any, I am perfectly contented with it. My
removal from Boston will prove nothing of I.
In annoyance !”
inc sir bit his lips from vexation, and his
brow grew dark as he replied,
I
an 1:!"-
15
“ You know, madam, or a leastyou on“
to know, that the only motive that induced
me to seek this wild and retired spot, was a
desire to improve your health; which, I am
sorry to say, has been impaired solely by
your own obstinacy. This solicitude for
your welfare, it is my opinion, is entitled to
some other reward than a sneer.”
The little spirit that had manifested itselt
in the first reply made to the cold and harsh
salutation of her liege-lord, had left the wife
as passive and gloomy as formerly, and a
half-suppressed sigh was her only answerto
Sinclair’s upbraiding. This appeared to dis-
appoint him, and he was silent for a few
moments, during which time he kept playing
with his pen-knife, and staring at the rough
log floor; but at length he again raised his
eyes, and altering his tone to one of seem
ing respect, if not softness, he resumed,—
“You must be aware that we are now in
a land of strangers, where our past history is
entirely unknown, and where you need not
be reminded of past follies, by every object
If you continue to
pine and grieve, and act the sentimental and
mawkish, you will certainly arouse the curi-
osity of the public, who will not be satisfied
until they have learned the cause. If this
should happen,I shall again be made the
butt of men sneers and women’s gibes. If,
an the other hand, you abandon this display
of mock- sorrow, the accursed tale will nev-
that meets your gaze.
er reach us, and I promise on my honor, to
forgive you all the bitter and hateful pad.
What do you say to this?”
The pointed allusions contained in thl
speech, appeared to touch the soul of the
heart-broken woman, and her eye grew
brighter and brightcr, as her husband fil-
tinued. When he concluded, there was a
faint tinge of red in her usually pale chad.
ands-fiestas“ inediblenammsath-


\
* 4
I)
“1).:1
great importance you had better by far
1 leave this—l"
‘l o. i.
_» v, _ “Stand back!” cried Augustus, resolute-
,, ly, presenting his rifle directly under the
. ," Doctor’s nose.
“ Stand back, if you have
,, sdesire to live. Keep at a respectful dis-
tance!”
As the protruding barrel of the rifle came
within the range of the physician’s vision
that worthy drew back his head so suddenly,
that his hat was jerked from it, and fell
,_ fairly upon the crackling flames. dozen
.0 rushed forward to seize it, but in an instant
a mass of cinders. The Doctor re-
treated with a. ruefal visage, exclaiming as
’he did so—
“ Headstrong fool !v Yes, den him, a
open his pores, Frisbee, and
benefit his health! Ah! that hat cost me
M _ . . , , .
I twopound‘ten, only a week ago 1” y ‘ I
v '“ H‘uv‘zzah toil-the Boston boys ‘.”,:ried one
time Whigs, emboldened by this exhibi-
_ “‘rion cowardice on the part of the Doc~
tor. _"‘I never knew one of the kind but
H was gritlto the back-bone! 'Its Gage’s tea
' w;
t
I‘M i4‘lol'idjliuiglh followed this sally, which
‘1 the Tories beyond measure. some
'11 half dozen of them drew of their coats and
._. l _ .. I _1 . .
commenced other demonstrations of open-
ing a knock down argument. I I ., d
“Needn’t irnin'd .pullin’ off your costs,
"tun-,1“, _, v. ,
' skinner-s; we’ll_'do that job for you for
"Kathie? cried the Whig; “ All we want
‘ l f .
M “has?
“Who do you meanuby runners, you
' vilo‘Li-ehel ;" exclaimed Frisbee, in a, tower-
' were;
I -“!Yon."‘carrion bird!" cried the Whig
‘ spokesman, who stepped a few paces in
front of his friends “I mean you; the
THE SCOUT O!
oldvsteran ’nhis slosp,to gets hand!“
You are the man I
mean—you, who had an ear cropped by
Ethan Allen, and the palm of your hand
branded D. R., which is the hi’rogliphics
for d—d rascal !"
“Frisbee could bear no more. Tossing
his hat to the croud who surrounded him.
he strode toward the expectant Whig, ‘out
dollars in specie.
just as he was passing Fitzgerald, a. well
directed blow from the youngster’s fist, laid
him sprawling upon the ground. _
The Whigs uttered a loud cheer, and
simultaneously, a dozen knives gleamed in
the tirelight. The Tories looked for a. mo-
at the fallen Justice, when one of them
rushed furiously toward Fitzgerald, with
uplifized arm.
“Come no nearer,” shouted the lad, pro
senting his rifle; but the enraged heeded not the warning cry, and stalked on
ward, In a mhment the sharp report of a
rifle rung out upon thenight-air, and the
Tory sank upon the grass with a. low moan.
A horried yell, mingled with cries of
“murder,” “kill the yillain,” “burn the
and similar expressions 'of rage,
burst from the Tories, and they rushed ins
hody upon the Whigs, whz, to“ their
ground, somewhat appalled at the guide!
change afl'airs had met with. yet desperate
ly determined to sustain their new-found
friend at all hazards. v p
A The contending parties met, in furit \
conflict. The 'l‘ories were fi'nfiany of the,
armed, like‘their opponents,“ ‘ with link
and the other; equipped ihediéim for h“‘
tie, with clubs,'seized from the surroundii.
fences. The gleaming knives flsshing ‘
the strong firelight, tho groans of the wound-
ed, the trampling of the combatants and
thing“: , _ :-


fl
likely to be free from harm, but the stran-
" get leaped lightly on the low counter, which
run infi'ont of the row of glittering bottles,
and seizing one that was labeled “ brandy,"
he poured a heavy potation of the beverage
into a drinking glass, and leaping to the
other side, he held it to the lips of the faint-
inglad, who drained it to the very bottom.
He then led his comrade to a seat in one
corner of the room, and bidding him remain
there in quiet, he once more left the bar-
room, shouting at the top of. his heavy voice,
“Huzzah for the Continental Congress !”
The bones ofthat firm, clear voice, rang
far and wide, down the echoing street, and
as it struck the ears of the contending whigs,
it seemed to add the strength of twenty men
“ Huzzah for the Conti-
nental'Congress!” was answered back by
to their numbers.
half adozen hoarse voices, and the fight
raged with renewed obstinacy and effect.
The 'l‘ories too, heard the shout, and its
effect upon them was anything but consola~
tory and encouraging. This was the first
time since the commencement of the colo-
iim difliculties, that the \Vhigs had made
any determined resistance in a body, to their
bullyingl'anddictation, and they had con-
fidently counted upon a bloodless and
speedy victory, when the battle had com~
menced. In this they had been sorely dis;
appointed, for many of their men were down,
and totally disabled, and a re-int'orcement
wasadvancing to the help of their oppo-
38110:.
As he neared the point where tne melee
raged most nercely, the stranger picked up
a huge club, that had been droppedby some
of the combatants, and elevating it above
his head, he strode onward. Not knowing
finds from foes, he again shouted, “ Huz-
nah for the Continental Congress,” when
Ines or four of the Tories with faces scowl-
‘"y,1 ("it as ,' ,-
THE SCOUT OF
ing with iatred Iind a desire for revenge,
turned upon him The foremost two wen:
down before him at one swoop of his mus-
cular arm, and the remainder retreated be-
fore his haughty stride. The \Vhigs made
a desperate rally, and crowded to his side,
shouting and encouraging each other to the
conflict
A few blows from the tranger's ponder
one club, supported by vigorous charges
from his gallant partisans, convinced the
Tories that they had no hope, and breaking
in disorder, they fled to the bar-room of the
“ Mounted Monarch,” closing and barring
the door, and leaving their wounded on the
field. A loud and protracted about from
the victorious Whigs, attested their satis~
faction at the result-of the fight, when they
turned their attention to the care of their
wounded friends.
Q'S‘ In the confusion of the retreat, the stran-
ger for a moment forget that Fitzgerald was
'entirely in the hands of his enemies, he hav-
ing left him sitting, or rather reclining in
the bar-room, as the place where he would
be‘most likely to be secure from molesta
tion. He saw his danger in a moment, and
hurriedly announced the fact to the Whigs.
In a body they rushed up to the piazza, and
tried the door, but "it withstood their in.
most exertions to force it open.- '
They then rushed to the window and
found the fears of the stranger fully verified.
A stout rope was attached to a heavy staple
in one of the beams above the floor of the
room. at one end of which was a noose. 1m-
mediately under the rope was a. chair. around
which stood two or three of the discomtited
wretches, their faces clothed in smiles ol
hellish delight. Four others of the rutfians
were dragging the bruised and bloody
Fitzgerald from the corner in which be h“-
bsen lettrby hi8 friend, toward the ma


In
‘ Now, my lad, I’ll see you home, and
journey on my way. My participation in
this little action, might posibly cause my
detention for a few days, in this right loyal
settlement, and, to say truth, I had much ra-
ther decline the tarry at this particular
time.”
Turning to Gersham, he inquired the
amount of the reckoning, discharged it, and-
tnking the hand of his friend, they left the
inn together. As they lefl; the piazza, the
stranger turned toward him with a look of
undilguised interest, and eagerly asked:—
“ In God‘s name, Fitz, how,v came you
here, and where in this ho: had ofToryiam
isyourhome P” ' ‘
ffNot so fast I” said Fitzgerald. “ I have
5 rifle, and ahunting knife, somewhere on
this battle field, and I must first find them.
God only knows what will come of this
night’s proceedings !”
“ Corps of it! Why, what can come of
it, to be sure ;” said the strangenastthey
turned toward the scene of strife", “ Who
struck the first blow ?' v
,, “I did.”
“ In self-defence, of icourse?” quickly
:-'
mterposed the stranger. q _
“ Why—yes—I I believe—-, I" know they
were about to assail us, I did not think
‘1 best to await their attack.” v V
“ All right, 3most assuredly l’f said the
manger. Neither thelaw nor justiceycom;
pols a- man, when acting in self-defence, to
await an attack that may prove fatal, before
he rushesa demonstration !”
They had now arrived at the spot desig-
by Fitzgerald as the place where the
scuflle took place for the rifle, and where
he had drawn his knife, but neither of the
weaponlycottld be found._ Alter along and
patient search they were comyelled to give
them up. as lost. the manger marking at
is am the =
a.
I
" V. v ' . '7 . “IF
.;..-,._:_'v..‘.‘: 3. .' ..n :1“. J
v
s
.rrs Utes 9 J (.1 h ‘
I
.l “D Bbvu .a v;
“They have attracted the attention of
some of the retreating Tories, and obeying
an instinct of their natures, they have ap-
propriated them to their own uses. They
will come to light eventually, and then you
can reclaim them.”
“I do notlike their disappearance f’ said
Fitzgerald. “If the two men in the inn
should die; trouble may come to it. It
they survive, I care nothing about the we»
pone.» ,g ‘
- “ What interest have you in their fates,
Fitz P” ‘ Y
“ Simply this. I wounded them- both 2"
“The devil you did! cried the strong.
in a tone that blended both surprise and
“ Pon my word, boy, you must
You would rise to
distinction in a short time.”
I. ,
J
admiration.
ioin me continentals.
. .1 uo .-
t “ This little afi'air tmnight, as you are
, pleased toterm it, may cause me to rise
someten or twelve feet, and in that case it
will be unnecessary for me to join the
a'rmyf’said Fitzgerald, in a tone, half-
jelting, half-sad.
‘ “ Pooh !' nonsense! You mean by the
gallows I suppose, in the rise you contem-
plate. Never fear any trouble, even from
Civil law is at end
in these Colonies, and it’s a hard matterito
tell when, if ever, it will rule us again—-
your own conscience.
Every man now-a-day carries his law In
his steady aim, and his strong arm. Even if
this was not the ease you have nothing to
fear, and ‘would be justified. Come, now,
Fitz, answer me the questions I propound-
811,. some half hour or more ago. “Where
is your home, and how came you here ?”
, “ Is it possible that you do not know?”
“ Certainly ; else I should not ask.”
“ Where have you been, that you b"
not heard that Sinclair had left Boston, lad
retired to this secluded, and almostunlmou
valley l” '2":"' a
- *J burden-I
I n
a...
i'l ‘Jd 1".)


1"


5.
I.
%
Ippoftunity. It contains nothing dishonor-
able, or that emit! by any manner of means
compromise her in the eyes of even a Turk.
I could have sent it to its destination some
time since, but I have hesitated. I could
not place that implicit confidence in the
messenger, that I felt I ought to, before en-
trusting him with a mission so delicate, and
then totell you the truth, I have hesitated
about'the propriety of sending it at all.”
“Give it to me !” cried Fitzgerald, his
eyes beaming with delight. “ If it is any
thing that she ought to know; any thing
that will afford her a moment’s consolation;
keep it not back. I will bear it to her my-
self, for-I am sure you can place implicit
coirfidence in me.”
“ Yes, Fitz, and you shall bear it to her.”
The stranger placed in Fitzgerald’s hand
a packet of some weight, and size, which
the latter carefully deposited in his cap.
The stranger sat in silence, for a few mo-
ments, and then, hastily getting on his feet,
he said,
“ Fitz, I must away ! Ere the morning
dawns, I must place several miles between
me‘am'l‘ Gleamington, else I may disappoint
one who is expecting me, and whose disap-
pointment would prove an evil to our strug-
gling and oppressed country. Should any
trouble occur in consequence of this row
let me know it.”
“How shall I find you ! Where shall I
comeor send mcase I should need your ad
we? ‘ '
' Aye: to Be sure, that rnut be consider-
ed ;" said the stranger, musing. “ I had
nearly torgotten that point, myself Do you
[now any persons in Wat-land, some eight
miles to the northward of the settlement.”
“Not a person ;” replied Fitz. “Since
my arrival here [have not left the valley,
THE SCOUT OF
except to hunt upon the neighboringhilll
for game.”
“ No matter, you cannot fail of finding me.
There is a little inn at Warland, kept by
one Tommy Williams aswe call him, fami-
liarly. Either come, or write to him, and I
shall speedily be informed of all. Place
all confidence in Williams, for he will never
deceive you.” . .
“I shall never remember the name, and I
cannot see to write ;” replied Fitzgerald, as
his comrade seized his hand, preparatory to
his leave-taking.
There is but
one in, and one inn-keeper in the place'
“ Oh! you cannot mistake.
You can remember Warland, and that its
direction is north from this place."
“ I think I can ;” replied Fitz.
“And now my good fellow ;” said the
stranger, with somewhat of a tremor in his
voice; “Farewell! We may meet again ,
Watch over that
woman as if she were your sister, and min-
ister to her comfort and her consolation, for
I am sure he will not. Farewell 1”
at least,I trust we shall.
Fitz brushed the tears from his eyes, With
the hand that the stranger relinquished, and
when he turned to look for him, he had dis-
appeared. The youth gazed earnestly up
the dimly defined road, and once or twice
caught the outline of his retreating figure
In a few moments after, he entered the
lawn. and walked briskly toward the house
Just as he stepped upon the piazza, a light
hand was laid upon his shoulder, and lookv
ing partly around, he discovered Miss Rachel
Morris by his side. ' _. .
“ So, Sir truant; a pretty frightening
you have caused us all to-night by your up-
seemly tarry upon the hills l” I
“Fright! I am sure I can not see any
thing to be frightened at, in a few hours’


'THE SILVER POND
ml upon the bills, at a somewhat later
time than usual; but I suppose that you
women are privileged to enjoy a fright, just
when the humor takes you!”
“ But how were we to know, you were
not killed P” urged his fair companion, as
they entered the house and commenced as~
eending the stairs. “ Such occurrences are
not uncommon among sportsmen, and might
as well happen to you, who are always busy
with your gun. I am sure I heard the re
port of your title, some two hours since, and
where have you tarried since then?”
“Killed l” muttered the youth musingly,
and seeming not to hear the latter interro-
gatory of his fair questioner. “ Aye! and I
would have been killed, if he had not inter-
posed his strong arm!”
“ What upon earth are you talking about,
and. why don’t you answer my question P’s
interrupted Rachel. “ You almost make
me think you tarried at the “Mounted Mon—
arch,” by your unsteady gait, and incoherent
talk !”
“Iiumph ! Well, good night, my gentle
quiz; you of course will not wish to con-
verse to-m'ght, with one whose brain is mud—
dled with Tory toddy. Perhaps afler a few
hours of repose I can answer your enquirie
coherent manner.”
They had now arrived at a passage way,
opposite which was Rachel’s room, the door
of which she left open when she descended
the stairs to meet Fitzgerald, for whose safe-
ty she had entertained fears, and whose pro-
longed absence caused her vrglls. Directly
pposite the door, was a small table, upon
which her lamp was burning, and threw a
strong bright light into the passage. As
Augustus uttered his “good night,” he a:-
rived at the doorway, and the light shone
hill and fair upon tun. Rachel Morris,
w.
h |
uttered a loud scream, staggered a few
panes, and fell senseless upon the floor-
The servants’ apartments were close a!
hand, and the scream aroused them from
their slumbers. Half awake, they leaped
from their beds, and rushed towards Rachel’s
room. As soon as they saw Fitzgerald, his
face frightfully swollen and covered with
blood, and his garments hanging in tatters
about him, they turned and run doivn stairs,
vociferating “ murder l” at the top of their
lungs, and scattering chairs and tables in
every direction, in the terror and heedless-
ness' of their flight. ~---
The din and confusion awoke Sinclair,
k.”-
and a man servant that occupied a sleeping
apartment adjoining the kitchen, and'ehoy -
rushed into the lower hall, provided With
lights, and armed with whatever they could
command in their flight. .
“ What in God’s name, means this noise !"
exclaimed Sinclair, when at length his eye
caught the figures of the two maids, who
were crouching in terror at the foot of the
staircase. “ \Vhat is the meaning of this
noise.
“Miss Rachel is murdered ! Oh! dear;
she is surely murdered, for we saw the
robber!”
Both Sinclair and the man servant rushed
up the staircase, and were soon in Rachel
room. The young lady had in a great mea-
sure recovered from her faintingQand was
seated in a large arm chair, whither she
had been carried by the temfied Fitzgerald,
and the youth was busily engaged in bath-
ing ner temples wan aromatic Vinegar, a
bottle or' wmch he had t‘ounc amongst the
toilet 'rinkets of her dressing table.
Sirclair recoiled a step or two as this
woe-hegone figure, met his new. He shad-
ed hls eyes with his hands as if fearingtlu
sanity of his sight, when, becoming convlnc


Od that it was indeed his ward that was be-
fore him, he asked—
“Fitzgerald! why do you appear in this
masquerade to frighten people, at this un-
leasouable hour. Such practices should
be beneath a young man of your age’!”
“ As to‘the masquerade ;” retorted Fitz
gerald, somewhat tartly, “ you must ask
your especial friends and favorites, the To
ries. As to its being beneath me to come
home at this hour, whether it be seasonable,
u' unseasonable, is a question upon which
you and me would in all probability, widely
r’ifl'er."
“ You do not surely mean to convey the
idea that your present uncouth and fright-
ful appearance is any thing more than a
boyish fi'eak, got up to frighten my house-
hold P” L-
“ I mean to say, Sir, thatI am not pecu-
liarly partial to masquerades, more especi-
ally of the kind in which I now seem to ap-
pear. My present appearance, which I see
by this glass here is indeed somewhat
crightful, althoughI was not aware of it un-
til I had scared Miss Rachel, is caused by
a severe engagement with your particular
friends the Tories, some of whom will pro-
bably have cause to remember it, among the
curious incidents of their lives !’
" You have been assaulted, then P”
" Yes, assaulted some, and battered corr-
liderably, as you can readily perceive.”
“ This is singular, and certainly de-
mands an explanation, which . presume you
will be willing to give ?"


“ At a proper time, but not to-nigbt
Miss Rachel, I perceive, has about recover- '-
ed from her fright, and I feel much in need
of quiet and repose. Indeed, I am much
confused in memory just now, and could not
give you a succinct account of the fracas,
if I should endeavor so to do!”
The terrified maids had ventured to ap--
preach the room of the young lady by thil 7
time, and as it was deemed expedient to ,-
postpone farther enquiry into the nature of
Fitzgerald’s calamities, until morning,
they were ordered to assist Miss Rachel to ,
bed, whilst Sinclair, Augutus, and the man
servant, departed to their several rooms. _ A
few steps from the doorway of the room in
which they had been standing, Sinclair
stooped, and picked up a package, which he
quietly placed in his dressing-gown folds,
unseen by any one, save his pale and agi-
tated'wife, Who was standing at the head of
the stairway, having also been aroused by
the outcry.
Fitzgerald threw himself upon his bed,
immediately after his arrival' in his own
room, overjoyed at the discovery he had ae~
cidentally made, wirh regard to the feeling!
entertained toward him by Rachel Morris.
Would she have kept so long and weari-
Vsome a vigil, on his account, if she had not
loved him? Then again, would she have
been so shocked at his bruised and bloody
appearance, if his wefare had not heennoll
her heart 5’
Les"
>\,.
\{w-


a)
and the Wrong. This afl‘ray, he reflected,
would probably open his guardian’s eyes to
the fact, that if he did not make a man in
argument and sophistry, he at least made a
man in a battle, and that was the most ef-
fective way in which a partisan could be
used.
He was cut short in these perplexing co-
gitations, by hearing his name pronounced
in accents that caused his blood to thrill.
“ Reflecting, are you, my romantic young
rioter, “upon your last night's adventure. I
shall be greatly rejoiced if reflection brings
repentance. In fact I would not mind my
fright the least, to say nothing about the
flourishing beauties of your countenance
this morningflfthe afi'air would teach you
to be at home‘betimes, and leave bad com-
pany to their own amusements!” I
' All this was uttered in a laughing tone,
and seen after Rachel Morris seated her-
self beneath the tree, besidethe perplexed
and blushing youth, it; indeed, he could
blush throngh the discoloration of his mani-
oid bruises.
“ Easy, if you please, Miss Rachel. The
lesson will probably benefit me a vast deal,
but I may not 'be blameable for putting my- I
self in a way to receive it. People cannot
always choose their own company,
ally in these turbulent times.”
especi-
“ All very true, and very fair, Sir Sorrow- ,
ful, but they can at least choose to have no
company,'if they care not whom to accept
as companions. Now, I should deem no
company at all preferable to that which you
seem to have met with last night.”
“ A trace to these ungracious lectures,
Kiss Rachel, and if' in your case the matter
is to be accomplished, be a little serious,
'uswér'me a few' questions.” _ ,
“Well said, mesa!” ‘cried aé littfe‘toi ’
mtor, with a-sané‘armaér‘hbra finding“
THE 'sco'UT OF
her full, red lip.
If seriousness is to
“Well and, 1 deem l
be accomplished by me serious in my life. I ca: ‘
than I am now. You talk as if
it was not a serious matter to be scared out
of one’s senses, and then to be obliged is
live in a family with such a ruflian-l
fellow as you are, this morning, for an ac-
quaintance !”
I never was more
assure you,
Fitzgerald saw that the only way to limit!
his companion’s sarcasm, was to affect in-
difference and maintain silence. The little
beauty looked for some moments as if she
expectedfla reply, but receiving none Ila
rattled on:
“ I do not wonder that you areidumb. It
is, however, a good symptom that you do.
not seek to palliate your ofl'ence. It able!"
that you are yourself convinced of enor-
mity, and cannot find it in your conscience
to say aughtv in extenuation. I fancy that
this experiment will work a cure, and acting
upon that belief, I am now ready to answer
any question that you may properly ask.”
“ Well, then,
to-day ?”
“ I saw him at breakfast, of course.”
“Did he allude to the ‘ swm’ last night i”
“Not at all i”
“ Did he enquire for me P"
“ N o l”
“ That is strange, most certainly.”
I “I think,” replied Rachel, the seritHmmiu
eirpréssion of her face, thathad been alsum-
ed 'for the purpose of tormenting her lover,
giving away to one of the utmostv erieul-
rress, “ I think I never saw my uncle more
gloomy, or momse, than he was this morn-
ing. 1My aunt, "thank fortune, did not meet
have you seen my guardian
and neat breakfast, else! am sure more scenes
of ‘violence would have been enacted?" "'
"Fifigerald arose and seated himselfneu-
“:the of his fair companion, and
l
l


f
s
_‘_,
THE SILVER POND.
taking her hand gently within his own, in;
said- ' M '
n "I‘D! know you are to be trusted, Rachel,
and I shall commit a secretto your keeping.
I saw him last night.” i
“ Who P" inquired his companion, turning
slightly pale, whilst Fitzgerald could per-
P
ceive a tremor in the hand be yet retained. I
“ Edward Vernon l” ~‘ ""'
The fair girl started as'if a mine had ex;
ploded at her feet, at the mention of this
name. It was some minutes before she
could command her utterance, during which
time Fitzgerald remained silent. At length
he inquired in a*low‘voice, as if fearful
that the leaves, or the running streamlet
gmight hear-h-‘o- ' "u. . I'-
“ Where was he, when you saw him ?”
“I saw him at the 'M'ounted Monarch’
first; after that be accompanied the to the
" gate in front of the lawn.” 1
' "' “ He then was aware that she had re-
moved here ?” ' Q
‘ ' “Not until I informed him'; and I re-
pented sincerely, after I had disclosed the
fact.”
“Oli'. Augustus; how could you have
been so thoughtless.
subject would have been a kindness to him,
Silence upon that
Indv might have been the means of prevent-
" mg bloodshed.“
“ Aye 3” said the youth bitterly; there
oas bloodshed, and but for his strong arm,
"' I should not now 'be here.” -
“ Nay, I mean not the bloodshed that has
' m; I’mean' bloodshed to come; 'You'
know he vowed a terrible revenge upon-my
' uncle, aitd'tba'tit was a feeling of insecurity
that prompted him to leavo Boston, and
Withdraw to this retired place, keeping his
intended residence a secret from all,“ save‘
his nearest friends.”
“Aye! Iknow al that; but I would
pledge mv own life, that your truce has

81
nothing to fear at the hands of Vernon, m
cept indeed he should offer him insult. It
was not for fear of bloodshed, that I regret
tod having informed Edward of our rosi
deuce here; it was for his feelings that l
cared ; for his own true and generous heart.
“' How did he bear the tidings?”
“ With forced calmness. Like a man (I
vstrong passions struggling with feelings al-
most too strong for control. No murmur or
threat escaped him, yet I could see his soul
was wrung to agony.”
’_ “Poor man 1” exclaimed Rachel, with a
"look of deep commiseration; "that ill-star-
red, marriage has broken two hearts, and
I foolish uncle has tasted gall, where he
“ expected honey.”
“ Marriage 1" exclaimed Fitzgerald, with
. a sneer of scorn; “ do you call that hollow,
impious mockery a marriage, Rachel! It
never was a marriage in the sight of God ;
, nay, it is not even a marriage in the sight
ofmen!” ,,,.
“Hush, foolish boy! you mean not what
you say. You surely would not wish to
reflect discredit on my aunt !”
“ No, nor does my assertion reflect dis-
credit upon herJ'She herself does not re-
gard it in the light of a marriage, and has
steadily refused both in word or deed, to
consider herself as wedded to your uncle.
She is in every sense a prisoner of war.”
“I know, I know that she has refilled,
and still refuses to consider my male as
her husband, yet the world, whose flat is
irrevocable, persists in regarding them'as
man and wife.” ' ‘ “The world! his/l ha!" cried Fitzgerald
'with a laugh of derision. “ The Tory world
'of Boston, you mean! The Hutchinson's,
the Gage's, the Constant’s and the Georges
You will find, hmrever, that their opinion
do not carry much weight out of thecirclss


as THE _SGOUT 0F
,rm I - - L
m which they" move. __ Disintsrested persons
row the matter difi'erently.’
“Let us not talk upon this unpleasant
nutter,” replied Rachel with a. scrrowing
look. “ You have not told me yet the par-
.iculars of your encounter last night, nor
in what manner Vernon saved your life.”
Fitzgerald then detailed to his deeply in-
terested companion the history of the melee
at the “Mounted Monarch,” concealing
none of the facts, or seeking to disguise in
any manner his own participation in the
sfi'air. He dwelt eloquently upon the res-
cue of his own person, by Edward Vernon,
and the manner in which he drove the af~
.‘righted Tories from Gel-sham’s bar-room.
When he had concluded his narrative, the
tears were trinkling freely down the cheeks
of his companion, and even his own were
not unmoistened by the briny fluid.
There is something seriously alarming in
even the remotest suspicion of the commis-
sion of a wrong, in the breasts of the inno-
cent and young, and both Fitzgerald and
his more timid companion experienced this
feeling in its full force. They both remain-
ed silent for a long time, after the recital ot
the narrative, each endeavoring to stifle the
dawning conviction that serious consequen-
ces to both would yet arise from the occur-
'ice-
Fitzgorald was the first to break the si-
lence. He did not doubt :a justification,
from his mistress, for the part he had acted
'n the murderous scene, yet he wanted to
bar that justification from her own lips.
He therefore asked--
“Do you think, Rachel, that I have acted
olameable in this matter? My own con-
science holds me guiltless, yet 1 will not
disguise the fact. I should feel more at ease
did I know that you too could justify me in
what I have done. I did not seek the quar-
rel, and after it had been commenced. '
could not leave it without dishonor, I
need not tell you, that I dread dishonor
more than I ever yet have dreaded death.”
The maiden looked up into his face and
endeavored to force a smile, but it was
ghastly and unnatural. She however re
plied promptly, and with firmness—
“I am not skilled in drawing nice da.
tinctions, or in elucidating intricate pornts
of right and wrong; yet I am compelled to
say that I cannot see wherein you are guilty
of any crime, or any intended crime. It is
true, you confess you gave the first blow
but even that was in self-defence.”
“ That is true. I knew that attack was
certain, and I did not know when, or fl'm‘n
what quarter it would come. My de—-”
“Surely!” exclaimed Rachel, hastily si-
rising from her seat, and coloring to her
very temples, “there must be some one in
search of me from the house, and by thei:
haste, the business is urgent l” At the same
time she pointed to the figure of a female
advancing through the meadow with an
speed.
Fitzgerald also arose, and both himself
and his companion moved in the direction
of the house. They soon discovered the
advancing female to he one of the domes
tics of the family, and as soon as they ap-
proached within speaking distance, Fitz,
gerald asked—
“What do you wish, Margaret? An
you in search of as ?”
“Oh, dear!” esclaimed the girl, hm
breath almost exhausted, and her counts
nance palid, from fatigue and terror. “Oh
hurry to the house, Mr. Fitzgerald,l am
sure he will killher!”
“Kill who P” cried Augustus in amaze
ment.
“Dear Mrs. Sinclair! He drags her a,
the hair,and swears most furiously about
the letter: I am sure—"


' THE smvaa roan.
waiting Tory, and with a solemn visage,
declared that the lost key could not be
found.
It now became apparent to the Tory lead-
er, that Mr. Sinclair must be permitted to
remain in “ statu quo,” or the lock must be
forced from the door. He accordingly ask-
ed for an axe, or a. hammer, with which to
accomplish his object, and the willing Ra-
chel again set out, in a. search for those arti-
cles. Consuming all the time she dared,
she at last returned with the desired imple-
ments, and after a quarter of an hour of
hard labor, bestowed by the Tory, Sinclair
was set at liberty, swearing a most terrible
vengeance upon all who had in any way
connived at his confinement.
After waiting a. few moments, for the sub-
iding of his wrath, the Tory opened the
object of his visit. He stated that the two
men, who had been wounded by Fitzgerald
on the previous evening, had died, and that
the Tories in council, had unanimously de-
cided that Fitzgerald was a murderer, and
that he should be executed as such, on the
little green in front of the inn; in order that
his example might serve as a. warning to all
who might in future attempt to defend him~
self from the insults and exactions of his
majesty’s most faithful and devoted servants
in Gleamington.
Sinclair, although enraged at his ward,
beyond measure, was not quite prepared to
see him executed in so summary a manner,
as that made mention of by the Tory leader,
and he hesitated sometime, before he re-
plied. At length he said:
“I am far from justifying the course pur-
sued by the young man, and amcertain'that
he deserves a. severe punishment for hls
conduct last evening, as well as for his
I'eatment of my own person to-day, yet I
am not prepared to say, that he should be
Ilmmuily executed, for doing acts which
1
may have been perpetrated n solf‘defsnoe
Iwiliat leastknow the particularsofths
whole affair before I form a coneluaicn.”
“ You do not appear to be desirous that
he should receive any punishment ;” replied
the Tory, angrily, disappointed at the hash
tating manner of Sinclair; “ you do not
mention where he can he found!" ~ ~'>
“ Neither do I know, yet I am -
he cannot be far away, as he lofi that‘roon,
a few moments before your arrival. To
show you that I am not interested inhis os-
cape, I pledge my bonorto give an hundred
pounds to the individual or individuals who
will bring him alive to my presence. In
the mean time I assure you that he is not
beneath my roof, as he had been informed
of your coming, and had looked me in that-
room, or order that I should not by any-
means prevent his escape. Send your men
at once in pursuit.”
The Tory returned immediately to his
command, who"'wcre impatiently awaiting
his arrival, and after explaining the reason
for his long tarry, he announced to them,
the offer made by Sinclair, for the apprea
hension of the fugitive. The hand instant-
ly separated with loud yells, and in a mo-
ment had surrounded the mansion, and easy in endeavoring to strike his trail. AM
a fruitless search of nearly half an they agreed to seperate into four bodies, and to traverse at one time the four
distinct points of the compass, In thismsn-
ner they felt sure that the crippled youth
could not escape, and thus would both the
reward and the victim be secured.
Immediately alter their departure, Sin-
clair, after makings few hasty prepantiom,
lett the house, and hastened toward the
“ Mounted Monarch.” He was received
with nine cheers by the sneaking conspirr'
tors, and afisr a few moments, spent. in in
terchanging congratulations, he drew FY.
& . ~ i


51. ~ 0.
narrows n. i-s-r N, .-
Wns urea-n3 ham; tha! with"; of
traumatized was our request
erases-"amuse aaiea- listened "w by
50"ligbgl’lif-8fde without interruption, until he
'Mmeiiti‘oiiéd the intérference'of the stranger,
Mjwhhnysiuiblairlfld his hand upcn his arm
with a'viblénge: at once painful and start-
“"hlg', 33521 and; ~" '4 1
m’ “Whit kind‘o'fa- man was this stranger ?
' TDeiidi'ibhhiin to me particiflar manner.”
"9 "Pflsli'ée surprised at the vehemence
h's't”Siiililhii"s'in'ainier, and also at the agita-
"Wish‘fliht the latter could not disguise, ne-
"l veftlfbleis he proceeded to describe Ed-
"we'vehm'as near as his hasty observa-
b”flbifil"bfthe individual in question would
“Wt-aha de‘. ' a
“A lullf‘vwzas‘lhe; I ain sure it was him! Ah!
"'h‘ris'bee, 'had you only have secured the
‘ xplgrsonpf that rebel, not only your fortune,
'. P but sufficiency of wordly distinction would
" ‘lrlaye’been secured at once. 1 would not.
'(rlgexchange the possession of his body, eitner
_“dfpd{or alive, for the most brilliant peerage
_ tire-gioflier land I”
m; :‘Humphw exclaimed Frisbee, With a
'bok of chagrin, at having lost so rich a
"'i‘! ,Z;.i,' PM. “ None of us know him, or even mis-
Is' ‘v 'a_ _ ' ‘1 .
“ tnisted his perspn was of such value,
‘11" ii 1‘
"6% I__ assure you, he would not have
t so easily. We might have rallied
finmreuvof . our friends, and captured the whole
.3 crew ,of the rebels.”
,,:. glintnd a pity it is that you did not. Itis
high time that we in Gleamington began to
show on: loyalty by our acts, rather than by
~Wwords,if we wishto share in any of the
web spoils, that will undoubtedly be distributed
It the termination of this rebellion. That
Utmin'stion is not far distant, as every one
can-most plainly see I" u .. ». ..
1?"; Frisbee assented .othese conclusions, ind
kev returned tn the inn, to mingle with the
THE SCOUT OF
"1
crowd iMessengers had returned them va
rious portions of the village, and announced
that all the places of business occupied by
the Whigs were closed, and that none of that
faction could be seen in the streets, or about
their premises. It was voted, however, that
an attack upon them, should be deferred
until intelligence had been received from
that'pait of the band, in pursuit of Augustus
Fitzgerald.
As we have before said, the Toiies in
pursuit of the youth, separated at Sinclair’s
residence, into four companies, each! squad
The reader
will also remember that the young man
pursuing a different direction.
was stiff and sore from his previous con-
flict; and he, found it utterly impossible
to make great headway, after he crossed
the creek, and commenced the ascent of the
hill-side. He had often before, scaled the
rugged sides of the acclivity without scarce-
ly a feeling of fatigue, but now both the
body and the mind were deseased, and the
perspiration oozed from every pore. Sharp
pains shot through his trembling frame,and
more than once, he was on the pointot
throwing himself upon the earth, and mak-
ing no further exertions to escape his put
'\
suers.
, He heard the shout uttered by thzb’lood
thirsty band, when they started from the
mansion, and the thought, that perchancs
he was discovered, added a momentary im-
petus to his exertions, and be pressed up the
mountain-side, like a hunted deer. Weak,
and almost exhausted, he at length reached
the top, and threw himself upon -s. log, de-
termined to load his pistols, select‘as good
a position as he could find, and sell his life
as dearly as possible, should any of his ad-
versaries discover the place of his retreat-
He accordingly prepared his weapons, but
a few moments of reflection. brought back
i
l
l
l
l


_—-—
Insa um 1 an rul‘UJ.
bhis youthful bosom, the love of life, in
Illll force, and he cast around him for a
clue of concealment, well knowing that it
would be impossible to escape by an imme—
diate and protracted flight. iHe remember-
ed at length a curious cavity in a ledge of
rocks, across the mountain some two miles
or more, which he had often paused toyex-
amine, and admire as a place of conceal‘
want, when engaged in pursuit of game.
Thither he resolved to go, and thither he
accordingly bent his footsteps.
He found that his locomotion improved
greatly, upon the level ground, and hope
once more animated his bosom. He pressed
forward with all the speed he could com-r
mend, and soonreached the desired “ Castle
ofrefuge.” He earefully crawled into the
cavity, and found it of sufiicient depth, to
entirely conceal his person from view. He
resolved to remain in quiet until night—fall,
when he determined to emerge, and make
the best of his way to Warland, in hopes to
i find Edward Vernon, and be governed by
his advice, in regard to his future conduct.
Such confidence had he in his place of con-
cealment, that, fatigued and weak from his
wounds, and his exertions, he soon fell into
a profound and refreshing slumber.
The party in pursuit, that took an eastern
direction from Sinclair’s mansion, iound the
marks of the fugitive’s footprints, in the soft
earth, upon the banks of the little creek, and
confident that he fled up the hill, they fol-
nwed on with all speed, extending their
line some some eighty rods or more, inorder
to scan every bush and brake that might
Thanks,
however, to the sagacity of Rachel Morris,
the young man had more than an hour the
start, and ere the sanguine Tories had as-
ofi'er concealment to the view.
cended the mountain-side half way, he was
snugly ensconced in his little cavern-
~., .. ,.,t
\
5|
7 When at last the marauders reached the
summit a the hill, they halted to take breath
and also to consult, as to‘-the¢cour'sebibo;,.
pursued. A high poléf-tb which w‘ae-apw w
pended a trip of white cotton cloth, rgsszao 7;
length stuck fast in. the ground, tea:
serve as a rendezvous, and all were‘misep-saz
arate, and scour the woods ' in whom div;
rections. ~If him they- huntel hadlpughd,“
to Warland, the party who had northern route, Would' certainly . overtake
him, and it he were concealed in the woods.
about, the plan they hadadopted, couldsngr,
fail to bring him to light. mi 1; nati-
Signals were‘ agreed upon in: taéilh‘dj
should be found, and the puisuers sépi‘miiii’
in difi'erent directions; éaéhl‘rhan diconhdiaiit“
that his superior sagacity' oéiiiafsficaé hundred pounds ‘fSr ofthe luckless youthiaé. we Jam“
With a throbbing heart, and aseusation
of faintness, Rachel Morris witnessed-the
departure of the radians, who were so keen-
ly bent upon the blood of the being, that
upon earth, she most cared for. She had
heard the brutal ofi'er of her uncle, to the
man who would secure him, and although
she had noticed his hesitation, when his 9!-
‘JP '»"VLQJ‘:'
a r ensioni
2159p ch
-~ enemas»;
ecution was spoken of, yet she could not but
regard the profl'ered bounty, as blood money
and she felt a loathing for her uncle, that
all her previous knowledge of his brutality,
had not produced. She knew if her lover
were captured, that Sinclair’s influence
, could not save him from the vengeance of
his enemies, even it he should be disposed
to exert it in his tavor.
Day waned, and the night approached.
The time of the agitated girl, was divided
between attendance upon her aunt, who Is
unable to leave her bed, in consequence of
her husband’s cowardly amok, old is lol-


“run smvna roan Mi .
if:
. "- 1m; i‘
I» “Twit-filo - ' ‘W
m (1-,- \-'i"l ~ ‘:s ~,
‘1 r “I. r a _
. e u; in. mail I K" s ‘ VIZ ‘ t A“
r 1'»! ' .- srblgv-Mh? 3“"0"? I
Q had-r , \ias..ul,q,,.,..._ , i
.r
CHAPTER vrr. _ ,6“...
“recollection of Tories around the run,
lcreased from hour to hour, throughout the
day, as the news of the fight upon the pre
nous evening, spread wider and wider.
Long are the nightfall, over two hundred
and fifty had assembled, and gangs were ar-
riving continually. Some were armed with
rifles, some with muskets,-some with swords,
and some, when nothing better could be
procured, carried pitchforks and large knives.
Under the recommendation of Sinclair,
Frisbee had been chosen to command the
partisans, because he held a comrniion
from the king, although the commission was
void, and of a civil capacity. It was hinted
that Sinclair, who was reputed to be a. rela-
tive of the renowned General Gage, would
he the man better adapted than any other,
to command the enterprise now on foot, but
he declined, alleging as an excuse, his en-
fl'ro ignorance of military matters, and the
fact that he was comparatively a stranger
amongst them. Frisbee consented to serve
and was hailedas the commander.
As the time were on, many in the crowd
became impatient at the delay of the party
who had been despatched. Fears were en-
tertained oy Frisbee. and his immediate ad-
visers, that the young man might escape,
and actuated by a desire to avenge his in-
fnries, might essay to gather a reinforce-
ment of Green Mountain Boys, and himself
become the pursuer. Near- sunset two 31"
are pursuing squads returned, has declared
the fruitlessness of the search. Plan D
report which had been brought in oy Bin
clair, it became nighly probable that tbs
youth had taken to the hills out ofthe Ids
tlement; and as the party that had taken
that direction yet remained absent, faint
hopes were entertained, that they had struck
his trail, and he would yet be taken
Just at dark, the party that had followed
the direction of the creek to the south, re-
turned, and with a mortified air, reported
that they too, had been unsuccessful in tho
search. The mob now became clamorous
for an attack upon the Whigs, and absolute-
ly refused to delay any longer, threatening
to march without leaders. in case M
bee and hisassistants refused tosssilt
them. A compromise was finally cfl'echd,
the oflicers agreeing to comply with 1!!
wishes of the privates, provided the re
maining squad, did not return, in the space
of two hours.
The Whigs, during this long and an
ions day, had not been idle. The women
and children, had been secretly, and ocea-
sionally, removed to the edge of tbe’forsQ
beyond the creek, and a quantity of M
sion also, had been conveyed thither. Be
fore night, all the women and children, had
been films removed, in so covert a mamas,
Iii not to attract the attention of the Tories,
l?“ centre of whose influence appeared to
5” , the inn of Ge'rsham Morse, or the liquor
'it .'I'he. mans-nod, deter-h
i


fl
edtn defend their homes and hearths to the
last, although their adversaries out—number-
ed them, thirty to one. They, however,
looked confidently for a reinforcement from
Warland, and when the darkness came, and
the expected assistance had not an wed, they
were utterly at a .oss to explain the reason
of the delay. , _, e ,.
' As it was utterly impossibleto divide their
1 little force, with any degree of Safety, the
‘ Whigs assembled in a' body, at a workshop
“ l'- 2Aching-mg to one cf their number, and elect-
MI " ed a'leader, and ’éssistantsto serve under
7' 2'3 him. 'Each man was served with an abun-
".rs'i .mwmpply of amnmnition, and when their
\ 'Ilfl‘lirtns were examined, by far the greater part
piloved to be rifles, that weapon so destruc-
:"-"" tRive, in'the hands of those experienced in
o‘-
~"-~‘ifia itse. 0 Their leader was a man of the
most indomitable courage and determina-
,,=_, I: one who could have seen the
. 1:0,lititlebandof determined spirits, would have
_ wt assured that deaths and ghastly
7,I_;Mlqyounds would not be confined to their ranks
av? 1:: v
u I ma “Puringthectwo hours granted to the Tory
_L;wig§c,ar?, ’thehhot blooded soldiery, for the
HQ giwlpfgthe body 01 the rangers, they
” like their comrades, with fa~
,: 1ywt‘i‘peyi bodies, and empty hands. All their
search had proved unavailing, for after leav-
a" not a trace of Fitzgerald had
mamqflwxrqdbcfiyerems They had hunted the
an” andgags, every direction, and
Mmwmksdsqmrqllsd them to desist and
.,-mrrmQiiiliriP§i5 - '
.1; PW? inmates ordered
“a Jgrbthajgdgdhtenmad preparations for
amathepogtemplatedattackrwererenewed with
v ' mimm ardgrg, “Torches were attached to long
a u, bgpoggs,nfor::thie ,purpose, as was avowed, of
mmiligrnrngf \out the vermin,?_ in case they
‘ not feel inclined to give them battle.
Iiiz'q
in thd 01 Ill field.“ Ladders were also pro-
THE SCOUT OF
'raprne.
'dow, not a sound, save the trampling of
1,;
cured, and each man’s weapon was exam.-
ed, with an eye to its efliciency. Ammuni-
tion was distributed by Sinclair and Frisbee,
and the men exhorted to courage and cool-
nose.
It was near midnight, when the cowardly
combination marched out to accomplish
their hellish desrgns. In a silence as om
nious as the grave, they moved toward that
partof the village, more particularly inhabit-
ed by the Whigs, intent upon murder and
Not a light twmkled from a win-
the rnarauders, broke the solemn stillness of
the night. The dark and dimly-defined
buildings around, bore the marks of deser-
tion, and one could have imagined that the
demon of the petilence, had been walking
that way.
The Tories halted at a vVhig dwelling,
opposite to which, they had arrived. Not
even the bark of a house dog, greeted them,
and two of their number, stepped from the
ranks, and ascending the little flight of
steps in front, knocked at the door, as iffor
admission. '1':-
No voice bade them enter, and the rooms
within sent back a hollow echo to their sum-
mons. The door was then tried, but it was
locked, and stubbornly resisted all the at-
tempts of the robbers to force it. imple-
ments, however, were soon furnished, the
look was cut from the door, and the villains
stood beneath the root of the tenantle-
mansion. Combustibles were piled in vari-
ous places upon the floors, the match was
applied, and the Tories emerging, resumed
their places in the ranks, and with their
comrades, anxiously awaited the progress of
the confiagration; nor were they kept long
in suspense.
In a short time a bright light glittered in
the windows, the rays from which, danced
out upon the darkness, and the ferocious
k
h.


THE SILVER POND.
filters. of the scow ing Tories, lighting up
the murderous scene, and bringing out the
surrounding objects in bold relief. Vol-
umes of smoke rolled out of the apetures,
between the logs, and presently oozed
through the Joints and crevices of the roof.
Anon a sharp fork of flame darted up the
rude chimney, and wreathed itself into an
hundred fantastic shapes, and in a few nio-
ments afterward, a dozen lurid spires, could
be seen in various parts of the roof. A loud
yell, ascended from the throats of the sur-
rounding demons, and they fairly danced
with delight, as the work of destruction
progressed. In a short space the whole
building was in flames, the materials of
which it was composed, being dry and re-
sinous, and ripe for theraging element.
Without waiting for the entire destruction
of the first dwelling, the robbers moved on
This
was tried in precisely the same manner as
toward the next doomed tenement.
the other, with the same results, and, as a
matter of course, it shared the same fate. It
was a much larger edifice, and the logs of
which it was composed were more ponder—
ous. It made a far greater light, and caus-
ed far greater exultation among the incen-
diaries, than did its fellow, yet one circum-
Itance, was now observed, that cast over the
minds of many of the rufiians, a shade of
gloom.
Through the whole of the burning scene,
not a Whig had been seen. Neither wo-
man nor child, had appeared at all, and this
absence at such a time, caused manyto fear
an ambuseade, or the working of some sileit
and horrible plot, that should burst upon
them like an earthquake, at a time when it
was least expected.
Some of the more hardy and reckless of
the gang, stoutly maintained that the Whigs,
firsseeing the vengeance that awaited them,
hd retreated from the settlement, with their
Q
‘5
families, and such of their eflects u the!
could inost readily carry, but others disbw
lieved this assertion, and quite as stoutly
maintaining the point, that the \Vhigs
would not so tamely consign their property
to the hands of their most bitter enemies
However, the work of destruction progress-
ed, and the mob moved on to the next bail
ding, against which the Tory anathema had
been fulminated.
This building was the shop, in which the
band of Whig patriots lay concealed, burn-
ing with wrath, at the wanton destruction
of their homes, endeared to them by a thou-
To all
outward appearance, however, it was as
tenantless as the others. Not a sound
could be board within, neither did a light
glimmer from any part of it. To all appear-
sand dear, and inexplicable tie.
once, it had been regularly closed for the
night, after the business of the day had been
concluded.
Again the torch-bearers ascended the
steps, and repeated the ceremony of knock
ing.
and as usual the door was tried. It was so-
No answer greeted their summons,
curely locked, and the instruments being
again produced, the Tories.set about re-
moving the lock, as they had done with the
other tenements. Their comrades in the
ranks, had seated themselves by the road-
side, or where squatted in groups against
the fences, awaiting the appearance of the
flames, and little dreamlngthat so many oi
them, were standing upon the brink of
eternity.
The lock was at length cut loose from
the door, and the inceiidiaries entered.
They passed through a narrow hall, and en-
tered a door on the right, before attempting
to strike a light, when they were seized by
powerful arms, and knives were sheathed
in their hearts, before'tney could alarm their
comrades, or Wen make one struggle in


.--__4. he -
mcd platoon followed up the first dis-
charge by one more deadly and destructive
still.
Their best men were swept down by this
volley, like chafi' before the wind, and
breaking in disorder, the afi'righted Tories
again left the gallant patriots the masters
of the field. Frisbee swore and raved at
these repeated exhibitions of cowardice,
but his threats and exhortations were en-
tirely disregarded, and his valiant recruits
hept to their legs until they were beyond
the. range of their enemies’ rifles.
Frisbee saw at this failure, that all at-
tempts to storm the shop would result in
his discomfiture, and a new plan having oc-
curred to his mind, he resolved to put it
in execution. Immediately adjoining the
shop in which the Whigs had taken posi-
60!], was a mansion of humble pretensions,
but it was the property of a Tory. , Fris-
bee’s determination to bring his enemies
into an open field, where a sure and easy
victory awaited him, was so great, that be
determined to fire this building, in hopes
that the'wind, which was somewhat pro-
pitous, would wait the flames to the Whig
fortress, nnd thus'compel its inmates to
place themselves within the reach of his
musketry.
A party was accordingly despatched to
accomplish this object. They were pre-
pared With the necessary implements tor
their mision, and pursued a. long and cir-
cuitous route, in order to avoid the Whig
rifles.
they returned and announced to their com-
mander that they had succeeded in their
undertaking.
Soon dense volumes of smoke rolled up
from the humble dwelling, and it was quick-
iy followed by masses of flame, and the
Impping and crackling'of burning'timbers.
ABM“ (vim thilhccsss of the s:-
fif .F twr “Hi ,t‘ei- tympani. r L; g- 3;
About half an hour’s absence
-_-‘.“n-_.’ -
periment, as well as to meet the Whigs on
their first sally into the street, the Tones
gradually and slowly moved in the d1rec~
tion of the flames. A clamorous cheer
arose when it was discovered that the night
breeze took the wavy flames full on to flat
roof of the shop, and they soon had the
pleasure of seeing its timbers .grute, and
give unequivocal token. that the experiment
would be successful. Again the priming
of their guns were looked to, and other
preparations made for avenging the losses
they had sustained upon the doomed in
mates of the burning shop. All eyes were
eagerly bent upon the swmging door, in
the monentary expectation of witnessing
the egress of their victims. The flames.
meanwhile, progressed with great rapidity,
and even had reached the lower story, but
not an enemy had been seen, and all within
the building was wrapped in a mystery as
impenetrable as ever.
The Tories were completely confound-
ed. The burning roofs and floors had fall-
en in, and nothing was standing but the
blazing walls, and still no sound, no shriek
proclaimed that human beings wcrc wilhil
the flame, or had made their escape there
from. in silence unbroken, they had wit
ncssed the complete destruction ofthe edr
l fice, and then, disappointed in their vel
geance and filled with superstitious fore
bodings, they turned simultaneously, and
once more sought the premises of the
Mounted Monarch, swearing that Whigs
and devils were beings of the same genus,
and that the powers of Pandemenium ss-
sisted them in their dealings with the in
habitants of earth.
Immediately after the repulse of the
storming party, the Whigs discovered that
it was the intention of the enemy to burn
them out. smasher the Teri. wiflnf
. “tab 1,. ! ‘ r Hz, '“J ' :qr'"! ' ' (it: "a!



“wear.
'rnn srnvna POND
slowly and With great caution, until he
reached the gorge at the’north, when feel-
ing himself comparatively safe, he seated
himself by the road-side, to rest his limbs.
Even here he could Occasionally hear the
shouts of his enemies at Gleamington, and
not feeling particularly safe in such prox-
lmrty, he soon resumed his journey and
pressed on toward his destination with in-
creased order.
It was past midnight, when, almost ex-
nausted, he reached the little village of
Warland. lts inhabitants had retired to
rest1 and every house that he passed was
shrouded in silence most profound. Re-
membering the direction of Vernon, he
searched attentively in the darkness for the
sign of the tavern, to whose landlord he had
been directed to make application, in case
he wished to confer with his friend, and at
length he had the satisfaction of discover-
ing it, swinging in the air, in front of a
snug and tidy looking log dwelling.
Several loud raps upon the door, aroused
some one within, and in a short time, Fitz-
gerald heard a rough voice at the door, ex-
claiming— !'
I‘Who’s outside?” l
l ' “A friend who wants lodgings l" replied
Augustus. _-"- '
“Rather late for such an application ;”
replied the voice; “but where have you
coins from P” I f ' '
“ From Gleamington ;" answered the
youth.
,4 The awn you am! Well, I have
merely to say,” drawled the voice;l“that
- ydn Glenniinl‘tonchaps Vaint'in a very good
smell this away, andI don’t think I can ac-
commodate ye. _ Howsomdever you can tell
me your name if you please; theys some
‘ a shape in that quarter thats got bosom; may
to your arm on’em.!” , p
"I, name is Fitzgerald ” cremated
51
the youth, impatiently; i“ and I come here
by the directions of Edward Vernon !"
“ Oh! ah! but you couldn’t have said so
before I s’pose;” replied the voice; whilst
at the same time the rattling of bars and
the undoing of bolts was plainly audible.
‘ Ef you’d only a mentioned the scout’s
name, you had a been in an hour ago ! Come
along.”
The door opened, and Fitzgerald entered
A light was soon obtained, and by its aid,
the worthy publican, who was the renowned
Tommy Williams, in his own proper per-
son, surveyed the guest from head to foot,
in the most scrutinising manner, after per-
forming which, to his own satisfaction, at
least, he said:
“ Well, the scout said you was ra’al grit,
and from the ’pearance of your face and
things, I guess you are. So you licked
’em eh? The scout said they had to take
it about the hardest!”
Fitzgerald could not entirely comprehend
this address ; not knowing who was meant
by the “ Scout,” butjudging from the tenor
of the discourse, that it had reference to
the Gleamington afi'ray, he replied atran-
dom.
“‘Why, yes; we had a little affair there,
to be sure. Some hard blows were ex-
changed, and some little blood spilled; but
such things are not of unfrequent occur
rence in these days.”
“ No, Sir! and they wont be either,until ‘
these Tories are entirely extarminated.
But here I stand like a fool, when I might
know you was both hungry and thirsty.”
So saying, the worthy Mr. Williams put
down his lamp, secured the bar-room door
and then produced a bottle and glass, bid-
ding Fitzgerald to help himself. He then
departed to his kitchen, but returned in a
fsyr minutes, bearing several dishei'o'f cold


U i v . . v _
-”ts,spd bread, which he placed upon a
rough pine table in the bar-room.
A -, - ,Fitsgerald needed no invitation to par-
take of the fare set before him, for he had
not tasted food or drink since his breakfast
and his exercise had sharpened his appetite
most keenly. He therefore seated himself
at the little table, and was soon deeply en-
gaged in the pleasant duty of satisfying hig
hunger. During the progress of the meal,
Tommy Williams, who was seated near him,
drew from him by his adroit questions, a
whoie history of Gleamington, since the
occurrence of the fight, embracing the de-
scription of the young man’s flight, and safe
arrival at Warland. After promising to put
his young friend in the way of finding Ver-
non on the following morning, he conducted
him to bed, and left him to the comforts of
a clean couch, and a system disposed to
slumber. ,
The dawn had just broken, when Fitz-
gerald was aroused by ,an unusual and pro-
Uacted noise in the bar-room below; and
the commmgling of many voices in the street-
Sufliciently- rested, and curious to acertain
the cause of the uproar, he sprang from his
bed, and hastily putting on his garments,
descended the stair-way and entered the bar-
. #roo'm.’ Here he beheld several women and
children seated about, whilst the stoop was
mwded with the forms of men, armed, as
if for battle. He passed‘through the room,
nd gained the street, where for the firs ttime
he disco’vered that the armed then where his
fellow Whigs from gleamingto'ni' j'rhq"
had just reached the little, settlement, and
'were detailing to their political friends the
proceedings of the last night.
With a saddened heart, Fitzgerald listen-
ed to the recital of the destruction of their
homes and crops; but the feeling was in a
m repenta- when ,he_heard of the
THE SCOUT 01'
battle of the worsshop, m which his can
rades had made a stand. From the leader '
of the melee in front of the “ Mounted Mon-
arch," he learned that the two men wound
ed by him had died, and that his execution
would have been certain, had any of the
parties .n pursuit been so fortunate as tohavc ,
captured him.
The fugitives were soon separated amortgst
the different Whig families, composing the
settlement of Warland, all determinations ,
as to their future course, being laid aside,
until the arrival of“ The Scout of the Sil-
ver Pond ;” who had been sent for, and
whose counsel and consent seemed abso
lutely necessary in the matter. Fitzgerald
returned to the bar-room, where he was
soon.after joined by Tommy Williams
whose rubtcund Visage was dimpled with
smiles and inherent good nature. 1 He was
a short dumpy personage, apparently some-
what past fifty, yet retaining much of the
fire and activity of early youth. The
all important and supreme desire of his
heart, was, the destruction of all Tories-
whoever they might be, or‘ wherever they
might be found, and the ultimate success of
the Continental Congress. He was noted
for his superior shrewdness and sagacity
and upon more than one occasion, has
taken the field in person, to fight for the
principles he so dearly loved, and so loudly
professed.
_ “ Well, my young friend 5” said Tommy,
seating himself opposite his guest; “ you
look the better for your rest last night, and
the. bruises on your face, 1 think have abet
ter appearance than they were last evening
By the tell of your Gleamington WhigsI
you were not disposed to, fight tie battle
with the am alone, night before, no. They
say you made holes in a couple of th
devils!”


v THE siLvrzit POND
.1 I _.
3 “Yes replied Fitsgerald, slightly col-
oring; “ felt myself calledw upon to use
I arms other thantlmse ,providedrby nature,
but only when I was driven to Vit,_in self-de-
fence”
~_--1-,
“Pshawl you will get overthis squeanr'
islmess, about lettin’ the day-light into ‘a
Tory, before this war is over, and then
you’ll say you killed ’em because it ’twas
your duty to the colonies. Always remem-
be: that one Tories death is worth six
Hessian’s !” ,
“In the matter of a regular battle, you
would be correct,” said Fitzgerald; ‘but
you must remember this was merely a
neighborhood broil ; something entirely dif-
ferent from a regular action. Your rule
would hardly apply in this case. .
“ Wouldn’t eh?” queried Williams ; “well
rule or no rule, I’m a skun‘k if I wouldnt
act on the principle. What do you call the
tight of last night, if it was not a regular
battle? For my part I call it one of the
hardest kinds of a battle, and between you
and me, when the ‘ Scout' gets here, you’ll
find it will be fought over agin 2”
“Who is the ‘ Scout’ that you so often
qreek of ?” asked Fitzged, earnestly.
“rWell, now,[ thought you knew Ned
Vernon!”
‘I do to be sure, but I never knew him
as a scout.”
'“ Well, Ned Vernon is known here-away,
“ Scout of the Silver Pond f’ ’cause he is
the greatest scout in America, and because
he’s got a cabin at the “ Siver Pond”, up In ,
mountains here, that the devil couldn’t find,
it' he looked with two pair of spectacles on
his nose.”
“ Then I now understand who you mean,
by the Sam; I used, t‘ormerly to know
~ , ' us I 3
Vernon in Boston, but latterly, cucu-
stanceeahave conspired to keep us apart.”
“ Well, may be you know his companion
too.” - -' - - .w
- “ Possibly 1 may ;” replied Fitzgerald,
" but I was not aware that he had I. can
penion ; at least any especial one."
“ Well then, just let me tell you, young-
sterf‘ said Williams, with a. knowing shake
ofthe head; “ that he has got a companion,
and a ’special and a particular one he istoo.
He’s a regiment in himself, ’though I ’spect
he’s notbin’ ndw to what he used to be.
He’s gettin’ somewhat old, but he's desp‘rate
yet.” -
“ Who is he 2” inquired Fitzgerald, in
terested by the description of the garruloul
Mr. Williams.
“It’s a hard matterto tell who he is. He
calls himself Sampson Combat, and the
boys generally call him ‘Long-armed-
He’s a true Whig, ’though
he’s come from England since the begin
Sampson.’
nin’ of the disturbance, and he’s a raging
terror on all Tories !”
Further parly was interrupted by a sum-
mons to -breakfast, which both Mr. Wil-
liams and Fitzgerald obeyed promptly.—
The youth’s bruises were better than on the
previous day, and a good night’s repose
had gone far towards restoring him to usual
health; he therefore did ample justice to
thers-ubstantisl meal prepared by William‘s
“a in all the Continental AJmy’nas‘thp"household,[and repaired to the bar-room,
manner 'the’ expected visit of “The
Scout of the Silver Pondi”
He was not compelled to wait his coming
for any great lengthof time, for while he
was inhaling the fragrant vapors {Tom a
pipe of tobacco, Edward Vernon entered
the room, and with an exclamationof lur-
prise be seized him by the hand, with the


THE SILVER POND.
The village, if it was deserving of the
name, was situated amid a cluster of high
and rugged hills, interspersed here and
there with small, but fruitful valleys, admi—
rably adapted to the purposes of the hus-
bandrnan. When Vernon had completed
his business, he took his friend by the arm,
and they started for the cabin, where Fitz-
gerald was to remain domicilated with his
fi'iend. Their road wound round for some
two or three miles, over the hills and across
he valleys, until at lengththey came to the
see of an eminence that from its great
night, and almost perpendicular sides, mer-
sd the appellation of a mountain. Seek-
ng a tangled and secluded footwuy, Ver-
non commenced the ascent, bidding his
friend to follow, and assist his limbs by
clinging to the stout vines and bushes that
grew by the way-side. .
The almost perpendicular ascent, con-
tinued for more than a mile, when the moun-
tain sloped away to the eastward, and the
elevation was more gradual and pleasing.
Here commenced an unbroken forest, as far
as.the eye could reach in either direction,
nought could be seen but interminable
rows of tall and stately forest tlees and
vines, loaded with wild flowers, giving forth
the sweetest odors.
For some two miles farther, they pur-
sued a smooth, narrow foot path through
scenes of sylvan beauty. At length, in the
distance, the hazy tops of another range 01
bills could be distinctly seen, and Vernon
lasted himself on a log, and beckoned his
companion to his side. Fitzgerald obeyed
the signal and also seated himself.
“Do you see the rugged sides of those
higbhills to the east yonder, whose tops
are shrouded by the clouds P" asked the
Scout, hiseyes sparkling with delight as they
scanned the glorious view.
r
55
“ Aye !" replied Fitzgerald
“ Those are the Green Mountains, of
which you have probably heard so frequent
mention. At some future time we may
stroll together to their summits, and revsI
in the views that our elevation will unfold
to us; but hark! As I live old Sampson is
about to delight us with a tune.”
Even while he spoke, the full, clear tones
of a key bugle, played with most exquisite
taste and skill, echoed through tne forest,
apparently emanating but a few rods from
them. The music of that noble instrument,
had always possessed peculiar charms for
Fitzgerald, but he thought that he never had
heard so many, and such surprising beau-
ties in its hewitching tones, as now held
him, as if spell-bound, to the seat he occu-
pied. The tall old forest trees, through
which the morning breeze was sighing,'the
neighboring echoes that repeated and mock-
ed the liquid sounds, the rugged and untu-
tored grandeur that greeted the game in
every direction; all conspired to heighten
the effect of the music, and when the last
strain died away in the dim dismnce. the
tears were freely coursing down the young
man’s c’neea.
His companion was also sensibly afi'ecv
ed. With his face buried in his hands, he
sat as motionless as a statue, whilst the
music continued, and when it ceased, a deep
drawn sigh escaped from his bosom, and he
asked, turning to his comrade :
“ What etternal influence, Fitz, can affect
us like music? What can excite in the
mind such an incongruous medley of sweet
and bitter memories, at one and the same
time ?”
Fitzgerald was silent for some time, and
without replying to his companion’s khan“, he asked: ' "
“Where was the assists. III?
M.


. --_A_$—:~l.___l_—- é- - .
“ Probably betore the door of mycsbin,
if cabin it can be called. Did not
led you anything of Long-Armed Samp—
son ?” i p
“ Yes, but from the description that he
gave me of that personage, I should deem
him incapable of producing music like that?”
“Sampson 1s a genius ;” remarked Ver-
It is haz
srdous to judge men in such times as these
non, in a half-musing manner.
by their exterior. The man either is, or
shrewdly afl'ects to be, an illiterateEnglish-
man, who was educated for a horse jockey,
but graduated a prize fighter. He pretends,
that disgusted with his own country, and
He
'- familiar with men, and familiar with
its rulers, he soughtan asylum in this
books ; an accomplished marksman and the
best swordsmanl ever saw. Of- his musi-
esltalent, you have a sample, and can
judge for yourself. You will soon be in-
troducedto him in person, and then I will
bolryouropinion of, him; afler first giving
yous. chancetto observe him-I .
“ But where is your celebrated residence,
Ned P” risked Fitzgerald. '
“Your. hearing had-sheen highly gratified
)ustnow, and you shall 7 presently have a
feast for your vision. Do you see the ex-
tremity of that rock just yonder to'the right,
the topaand front part of which is com»
,lctcly covered by the weeping willow ?”
“I replied Fitzgenild, his Ileyeufol-
the direction]. imiie'a‘tlec’lT bysVernonzs
“Ker. . -,,
‘f Well, go to it, insidejth'e willow,
sit down 'upon
a 2?, " ‘_ "
Fitzgerald
v: ' ' “or.” '
obeyed the Plunction He
ma“ span a. team a rusting; the yap
Dijone side withhie arm, he pushed his
--;‘|.n-~ »)>| .- .r
a: meme. cause. is was
Ail-fl Pi'li w
1.;
did'hi‘wie” ‘ ' ism.
'1' a"! w-‘o‘mrrll-‘er'wscorlv" ‘1.»
“"1111: buuU‘l'TJI'
,zs; min"
8%-
A scene of the most transcendent beauty
was before him. A sheet of water some
mile or more in diameter, stretched away
in front of him, glittering in the bright sun-
light, and showing the white pebbles at its
bottom to a great depth. Its edge was
fringed with tall, wavy pines, intermmgled
with willows and alders, and flocks d
ducks .and other waterfowl were sporting
upon its pellucid bosom. The waters were
clear as chrystal, and ever anon the bright
scales of its sporting inmates could be see.
from the rock, glist’ning in the rays of light
like burnished silver. _
The form of this little sheet of water
was nearly circular, with bold but not pre
cipitous banks, except at a point nearly pp-
posite the rock on which Fitzgerald was
seated. Here a ledge of perpendicular
rock, some forty or fifty feet in height,
abruptly rose from its bright waters. ‘ They
terminated as abruptly as they rose,iand in
all directions around them stretched the
smooth, alluvial bottom. I.
v “This is indeed a ‘lovely scene !" repeat-
ed Fitzgerald to himself. “ Howiwondigulg-
ly it is concealed from obseryation l” U y
L ‘zAye! that it iflhrepdatedthe voice of Vernon, who hadigained the of the enwrapt youth, without “It is the fairest sheet of water all land.” ‘ l 's I' _ _ V
; ‘r‘erlravedxaer eke Fires“-
startled atrtlhe unexpected proximity “his
friefxd‘llf . ' '. a ' ‘ '1 ' ,eb'
“ The_ Silver Bond l’?’ answered Vernon.
_4_,, _, r, _ \ ... - - _- ..
the rodk'on other vside Of. The of this regiondonot
Y'fy it, was; the dame oflake. They earm- ‘
ful'of' rousing the anger old she. an err-teed, 1"? ease
I
.._v 0, “mg... _ I} v. - ,__,' Jam‘s,
‘f,1.t"¥."5‘3“’=~m agree: we“ 4‘
.... -,i] an Wyn", :1‘. "a '. .' z; s
19:31:“ fflQiI-"f: 11mg; . lid}
0" - r" wgiv It" 'rg'n nil lwu ~ =


THE SILVER POND. D
hm. like these. But the first thing that de- Sampson’s accompi ishments, that of cooking
mands my attention is the atisfaction of ranks not least.”
my hunger. Has not your long and arduous Fitzgerald assented to the proposal of the
slit, sharpened your appetite, or are you so Scout, and Sampson, who had entered the
all satisfied with the internal appearance the room, whilst Augustus was engaged in
L" my kitchen and its fixtures, that you will surveying its appointments, instantly wel
brago a trial of the contents of my larder. about preparing dinner.
in! no assure you, that amongst all at“
"1'1" .1 1": ,'_.-‘1 “ll
3"“ 'K of) 01 l
. ' ,.
i“ “I i' .
I U... ...... a... . -,\~I\‘ . .... .- _-


THE smvna Pom:
“1 Mm mutiously apprised of her stubbornness,
’ulll it was finally agreed upon between
and uuligv himself and Miss Susan, that both stratagem
Agnew? and force should be made use of to insure
e requem I their success *
ion the sol; The “ Boston Boys,” as they were com~
iaring til monly termed, had already had several se-
ere painfl were and bloody afi'rays, with the king’s
in, she is troops stationed in the city, and with those
ling maybe were living upon the patronage of the
desired! prernment- In most of these skirmishes,
Fr riots, as they were contemptuously styled,
at meboll, ,1 the royalists, the “ Boys” had been sue-
he: am!!!) and soupowerful had become the
st she n ombination, and bold were they in their at-
md [and tanks and resentments, that many of the
if not wil' toys-lists, absolutely stood in fear of their
passions lives, and for their property.
at the h‘ Edward Vernon was one of the acknow-
wfli, ullgdgeld leaders of this Association. He had
'etlllldQl entered with his whole soul the great dis-
e withhe leulsion of the day, and leaving his books
mazplnl for the benefit of the timorous and inactive ;
“in, mi lhe had become engaged in collecting arms,
wed Mr {and enrolling volunteers for the great and
'Pexpected contest. By some means, Miss
| was In 'Susanhad discovered that he yet contrived
rival, by ‘to communicate with her neice, and know
1w, mi Mag, as she did, the young lady’s preference
(1 Agnes ll'ol' him, she greatly feared that his hold
a and till and daring spirit, would conceive some
“,1 from Man, by which she would be defrauded of
me than her subsidy, and Sinclair lose his bride.
u would lain therefore hinted to the latter gentleman,
“his 60' t he had better use his influence with
Ego, and have young Vernon safely dis-
gsan “is! of, before they proceeded to the final
We be pccomplishment of their plan.
nimu'om l This was readily assented to, and in these
flaw! il urbnlent times, circumstances would not
lid 08!" wanting to entrap a violent partisan, op-
lring 5 posed to the powers yet holding the reins
Ho W \sf government Upon the most flimsy pre-
l
65
texts, patriots had seen imprisoned, and of
course the same thing might again be per-
formed. If Vernon-5 was confined until .
Agnes was wedded, the danger would be
past, and all apprehensions arising from the
fear of interference, quieted. Gage, who
deep in the secrets of his relative, was con'
sulted, and promised that the young man
should be arrested, as soon as two expected
regiments arrived in town. Without their
presence, he was fearful that the “liberty
boys” would attempt and effect a rescue,
the consequences of which would be severe-
ly felt, not only by Sinclair himself, but the
Colonial Government.
Fortune seemed to favor Sinclair, for
within a few weeks after his conference
with Gage, both the troops, and tlie oppor
tunity to imprison Vernon, arrived on the
same day. The young man' was arrested
whilst haranguing a detachment of the
“ Boys” in front of the “Cradle of Libel
ty," and was immediately sent to a prison.
Preparations for the speedy consumma-
tion of the plot, were now rapidly advanced.
A worthless and dissipated young man
who had been highly educated, and intend-
ed for the ministry, but whose vices had
obtained the mastery of his morality, was
employed by Sinclair, to perform a mock-
marriage ceremony, and the bribery of a
Sexton, belonging to one of the numerous
Chapels of the town, gave them the entrance
to an altar, and promised to secure them
from interruption. Nothing remained, but
some plan, by which Agnes could be in-
ducedtovisitthe Chapel in the evening,
without havmg her suspicions aroused.
It may seem somewhat strange to the
reader, that Susan and Sinclair could hope
to succeed, by a scheme so wicked, and so
entirely opposed to right, and to the laws !
Yet it should be borne in mind, that both


THE SILVER POND
Iith'ln. Heris‘iut, however, insisted upon
-ntering, remarking at he same time, that
hey were probably early, and that the ser-
ices had not conimenced.
As soon as they entered the vestibule, the
car was closed, and locked by the sexton,
ad in a moment after Agnes recognised
l8 person of Sinclair. For the first time,
ispkions, that something in relation to her-
‘lf was on foot, crossed her mind, and she
rned toward her aunt, as if for information.
viss Susan’s eyes were averted, and Agnes
scovered that a burning blush, mantled
e unusually pale brow of her aunt. Sin-
air approached her with an air of great
spect, and withdrawing a couple of chairs
am the altar, placed them in the aisle, and
quested the ladies to be seated. The
ock priest madea low obeisance, and in a
oment after a painful silence reigned
roughout the house.
Agnes trembled violently, and asked her-
df the meaning of this strange proceeding,
it it was a question that she could not an-
"er. Sinclair was intently engaged with
'irling his watch-key, and her aunt sat in
eh a position as to prevent a view of her
:e. The counterfeit priest was careless
turning over the leaves of a small book,
d the sexton was reclining in a pew, at
2 farther extremity of the church.
At last, with a painful efi'ort, Sinclair
eke the silence. He arose from his seat,
1 approaching Miss Susan, he said,—
" I suppose madam, that the ceremony had
iter proceed, inasmuch as the company
s all assembled.”
“ Oh. certainly ;” replied the aunt, in
voice singularly low and tremulous. “ We
ve come for'that purpose !”
The pretended priest forthwith laid aside
lbwhandafteran-sngingstabletosuit
lcunve'nience, he lighted another lamp
I
67
and drew from his coat, a small roll of paper
and materials for writing. Turning to Sin-
clair, he said,—
“As you are the party of the first part
you will first place your signature to this
contract."
Sinclair immediately complied with the
directions, and placed his signature at the
bottom of a sheet filled with writing. As
he laid down his pen the spurious dignitary
continued—
“ Now we will have the young lady’s sig
nature, after which the ceremony will pro'
ceed with despatch, for the night wanes !”
The truth of the design on foot flashed
across the mind of the terrified girl, imme-
diately afier the conclusion of these words
She saw that she had been betrayed by her
aunt; and that it was expected that she was
to become the bride of the man she hated-
The violence of her trembling increasedv
and a faintness caused her brain to reel.
She was soon aroused, however, by her aunt
who approached her, and whispered—
“ Come dearest, sign the paper, and in a
few moments more, we will conclude the
ceremony, and return home !”
“ Sign what paper P” asked Agnes faintly
“ Why the marriage contract between
To-
night has been set apart to complete the
yourself and Mr. Sinclair, to be sure.
nuptials.”
“I will never wed him!” exclaimed Agnes,
rising from her seat, and assuming a look of
wounded delicacy. “ I have repeatedly told
you that I would never wed him ; and I now
repeat, that I would sooner become thl
bride of the grave, than of a wretch lik
him I”
“ You are mistaken, indeed you are, my
young Miss. You will wed him, and that
too, before you leave this house. All oppo-
sition will be utterly useless, and you any


1—4 “hi? 1., >_~_\_\:.."~_
THE. SILVER POND
until she found the person to whom she was
on the conclusion, that business of an [I
addressed. The maid promised her untir- portant nature called him fiom Boston.
lag endeavors, and resolved to meet her
aunt-heldly,imd nphraid herfor her dupli-
city,.shn:dereended for her bredkfast.
Alias-Susan ind left the bre'asfast-mem
before her injured niece entered, and she
Mokof thcomsslmlone and undisturbed.
hamsters to her own apartment
1 thrustin the newspaper containing
the .agcenpt her marriage on the previous
By and by, Agnes received a notification
from her aunt, that she must prepare to ro
‘ceive her husband, and make her appear
once in public in his company, inasmuch as
the total seclusion of the fortunate and
blooming bride, was becoming the talk (1
the whole town. In order to frighten her
intoacompliance with this mandate, the
heartless hypocrite insinuated that rumors
"Snigdr MYRE all the "me time, that it of the most scandalous nature were already
hsdbeen senthher by Miss Susan.
Theltears, flowedafi'esh, as she read the
announcemenghut. they were not tears of
afloat, because she had not yet gratified the
people with a view of wr charms, since they
became the sole property of Joseph Sinclair
“Elli-95 “5.9195? EST“; The! were "an \ To this notification, Agnes returned the
an excess of indignation.
f‘gdgrlfopl l” “she exclaimed,” she threw
risisefly spoil. thafioor- “He
depsivpls, most wonderously, if he
kiei we fife, br'flw Procla-
°tiiea “Hm: PW! summaries 1”
F95»? web as new a." the. face of
Iirnclair,yet,shedlegrned the servants
Vassar his daily visa to the
“8-921 illness? surmise .dm wim-
P't'eii-‘Psrtlieneth'jet the he M
sawe- were of
Agpesfcould pot forego a.
‘ .


V, vvfgcolly, and atklthe witless course
_ , ,
Era! ta to whom “he had
smash? a was»
“HQ. 119". We!“ rambles about
my day,
a illuitter disa intmentn7 Edward Vernon
r“J{1_l'3 ‘rn. I. J‘,:\ Li
has? aware same. could
“abate .
we rears, oi‘hsrslfill’ find.
most prompt and positive refusal. She even
threatened, that in case Sinclair attempted
to intrude himself into her presence, she
would call in the aid of the civn authorities
and seek protection where it would be grant-
ed. This somewhat intimidated the hsl
dame, and for a brief space, her importnni-
ties on that point ceased. They were des-
tined, however, to assume another shape,
more tormenting and aggravating; if such
a thing could be.
One evening, the maid, who was still on-
deavoring to ferret out the whereabouts of
Vernon, returned, after having remained
more than an hour beyond her usual time,
and Agnes saw by her countenance, that she
had at last been successful in her search.
As soon as the girl had become sestsd,
Agnes exclaimed, her eye brightening, and
her cheek glowing. '
“ What news, Marish, I am sure yes
have discovered him at last. Did you give
out his whereabouts, or learn the cause of the 19m; 2’”
all 62 J
ii- sblgiagfrgla the rub“; 181?}, .1114 {mm


m, . Armies
%. ‘ no 3;: i r :0,
cash“ to; on as finally settled up
.LE.‘
_“ I have found, where he is to have!
the WOIjQYIdIirl ; “but I have In
; He ransom: know-Isl
miflltmdingl”
\
m


W, 7 Q; s .v_
70 a
I II-W-W
W
THE SCOUT 0F
I‘Ah! thank God. then I may hope forwseat, I asked him if he lnéw Ed
relief from this horrible persecution. I am
sure he will not delay a day l”
“ He may not be able to come to your asi
sistance, as soon as you imagine,” said the
girl ; “ for he is in difliculty himself!”
“ In difl'iculty ; howrdo you mean ?" ea-
gerly asked Agnes. ~ \~'
“I thought it was singular,” replied the
girl, dreading at once to come to the point;
“ that I did not meet him in any of my ram-
bles about the places that he used to fre-
quent, but to-night, as I was passing slowly
through the Mall, an old man --—-”
“ Oh! do not keep me in suspense, Ma-
rlah, but tell me at once about his diflicul-
KIOSK-’- 5 ‘ ' 2
“ Well, then,” said Mariah, hesitating ;
“he is in prison !"
“ In prison 1” slowly repeated Agnes,
leaning back in her chair, 'Whilst her lip
quivered,, and her cheek blanched ; “ for
God’s sake tell me, if you know, for what
he is confined!”
“ That is what I was doing, when you in-
terrupted me,” replied the maid. “ You
need not be alarmed, for there is nothing
serious in his confinement, and he will soon
be at liberty.”
“Now tell me the whole story,” said‘I
Agnes.
Vernon. ~ .=
v“ ‘Edward Vernon !’ cried the old In '
asiftrying to remember; “shiyésfthst'
is his name, 1 am sure. ' They‘ssy‘hs iris ‘
prison, and I am going thh'méht tom
him!” '
“I heard no more before I gave the old
man the letter, and he promised me most
faithfully to deliver it to the young man. ‘
He placed it carefully inhis pocket, and
then asked me about you. He wanted to
,...4
know the color' of your eyes, of your ban-
and whether you were tall or short; in short,
I thought that the old man was crazy, and was about asking him to return the letter,
when he asked me 'if you had married a
man named Sinclair. I told him no, but
that Miss Susan and Mr.‘SinciairI had so '-
published it to the world. n this the on“
man appeared to be greatly excited, hhdhs ‘
muttered to himself, incoherently, t'or some
At length he'turned to me and said,
‘Teil your young mistress thatI-—’here‘l
he broke ofi' abruptly, and started to his
feet, stood gazin'g for a minute, and then
exclaimed, “it is he,” and made dank. s
grenadier. looked, and saw crossing the Mall just above the, and {he 7
old man was walking directly "
Vt’hen they had both passed outotisight, I
time.
“Well, as 1 said before, I was passing started for home, but met a“ liberty‘bey”
sloWIy through'th'e Mall, when an old inan just before I reached the door. _I knew he
came up to me, and asked ifI‘ did not me was one by his hedge, so 1' asked , and n"
with Miss Sinsan Glenwood. I told him that ' Edward _Vernon _ was in prison. ' “Yell; I
I did; and {he asked me to take a seat be- said he“; ‘lbut thére 'is not locks eiiou'kh is 2
side him, under the shade of a tree. Ide- Boston to keep him there two days Zola-l"
clined at first, feeling somewhat afraid, as ger!’ I then runjhtdnte' .
iv ' ' "at W B“. I'U'd
‘ .
the old man looked dark and savage. He news.‘ 4 _ v ,
told meanest need not 'fe‘ar'hini, and that 'Agnes hid liiténe'd 'viiili he had' sonie : irriportaiit" nevi! for Miss terest 'to '
Susan’siniécezl insatiag-thn'thuiiitsd 'wiia‘idbié‘brdiéifiddailhgiitdifiidfiailf'“
no longer, and when wef-had‘ Men 'll 'foatflbsfiiwlieh Maiiahgcdnhliid' wan My"
I
l


arr; \‘5'3‘
THE SILVER mu
ming, dam lag hand-bills appeared in
every part of the town, detailing the scanda-
lous mockery of the marriage, and denounc-
ing Sinclair and his accomplices, in the
most indignant and bitter manner. The
placard concluded by exhorting all good
men and true, to rally in defence of the help-
less female, and deliver her from the hands
of the “ Philistincs.”
This attack, and the appearance of the
placard, caused the greatest consternation
to Sinclair and Susan! At Sinclair’s soli-
citation, a regiment of infantry was quarter-
ed in the same street with Susan’s residence,
and that very night, Agnes was removed to
a. place of safety, some miles from the ex-
cited city. In vain she pleaded with her
mat, and remonst rated with Sinclair They
Wadi—Fm m herroiee,andshe was
'0 .
‘.
| l
J -
.
15¢
_' '
a..." 2' . .
. “Cu K! s
n' i v
.
"'1 '..
\u.»"'..\C7 - -
r.. . . r
it
;.‘ ,-'_t '
, .
n '{_ i'.- I.
cat-W,» " 'i-
_ :
I! 'u S
tr':.'_ - ',
ahe'g'J-‘H i
a ;.~..i$ - -1 - w»
.,_,7 v
I!
forcibly placed inthe carnage, and driven
rapidly away. The hopes that had hitherto
sustained her, vanished, and she felt that
she was completely in the power of her
brutal persecutors.
Sinclair now used the utmost diligence in
arranging for his removal. The town was
becoming too hot for his health, and as he
atterward remarked to the weeping Agnes
he was assailed on every hand by the
“ taunts of men and the sneers and scorn 01
women !” He at length completed his as
rangements, and he felt a load of fear re-
moved from his heart, when fifty miles of
rugged forest-road, lay between himself,
and the city he had left.
The reader is already acquainted with
his advent into the Gleamington settlement
and his reception by his kindred spirits
1“ aw . army-3i!!!"


- 3 g— -: "q
THE SCOUT OI
CHAPTER 1.
CHAPTER x
.r y
We left Agnes Sinclair, as, for the sake

of convenience, we shall call her, rejoicing
with Rachel Morris, over the timely escape
ot Augustus Fitzgerald. Although sorely
oppressed by woes of her own, yet she could
rejoice at the good fortune of others. Ever
since he had been acquainted with her his-
tory, and had ascertained the true character
of his guardian, Fitzgerald had been her
warm friend, and so far as opportunity ofi'er-
ed, her bold and unflinching advocate.—
She could but reflect with gratitude, on his
timely and manly interference in the parlor,
when the brutal Sinclair had offered her
personal violence, and after the arrival of
his pursuers,‘ she greatly feared that the
time spent in defending her, had caused
him to lose his own life. The news, there-
fore, that he had escaped, at least for the
present, greatly comforted her.
While the two females were yet exchan-
ging congratulations, the step of Sinclair
was heard in the hall, apparently approach—
ing the apartment of Mrs. Sinclair. Ra-
chel turned pale, and trembled violently, but
Agnes remained entirely unmoved. The
door, which had been left unlocked, present-
ly opened, and Sinclair, flushed with liquor,
and looking fatigued from his unhallowed
vigils, entered the apartment. \Vitha stern
voice he ordered Rachel to leave the room,
in
as he bad business 0' impo‘tsnoe to um
act with his wife, wlich permitted no man-
der’s presence.
Rachel hesitated for a moment, as if un
willing to leave her frail companion alone
with the brute, who had so far degraded
himselfas to inflict blows upon her, but an
appealing look from Agnes attracted her at
tention, and she quitted the apartment, yet
resolved to linger sufiiciently near, so as to
hear the first offer of violence to her friend
So can as the door closed upon her retiring
form, Sinclair drew from his pocket a paper
and after glancing his eye hurriedly over
its contents, he turned to his wife and ex
claimed— .
“By that touching and afi'ecting epistle,
which you received from your paramour
through the agency of the viper, that has
been warmed and nourished by my own
breast1 you were the possessor of a large
fortune in England, which was proba»
bly the inducement, that led me to espouse
you. Whilst I deny this vulgar supposition.
I am under the necessity of informing you,
that, in consequence of your obstinacy, is
compelling me to leave my business at loose
ends, and remove to this place at great ex-
pense, my pecuniary afl'airs have become
perplexingly involved, and I wish you to
sign this paper, in order to relieve my em-
barrassment 2’
“ You are satisfied of the fact than, that]


16
the bait would take. He was sorely vexed,
but concealing his chagrin, he asked:
“ Am I to understand that you will not
sign this paper, until such time as the di-
vorce is obtained P"
“Certainly!” replied Agnes. “ You, of
course do not require terms that you are
not willing to grant yourself. I repeat that
you have no ground of complaintwitb my
ofl'er if you are sincere in yours. The rel-
ative of General Gage, and the possessor
of princely estates in England, such as my
voracious aunt has always described yours
to he, cannot surely be distressed for so
small a sum as I may he possessed of, at
least for a few months!” I
This irony out Sinclair to the quick. He
was getting most unmercifully pelted with
weapons that he had voluntarily furnished-
For some time he was entirely at a loss for
a reply to this cutting rejoinder, but be-
coming desperate, he stanmered:
“It is true, madam, that I possess estates
in England, and I may say without vanity,
that they are princely; yet you must recol~
lect that these are precarious times in'which
0 make remittances across the water. Be.
sides, all business at home is entirely de-
dcranged, in consequence of this unholy
and unjus; rebellion. Princely estates in
England, therefore, may not help my pre-
sent necessities.”
“Very true, indeed!” replied Agnes, in
die some cold sarcastic tone. “Very true,
indeed! and my money being also in Eng~
land, would of course be affected the same
way, by the same circumstances! I ad-
mire your foresight, Mr. Sinclair, and agree
With you that it would not be me to move
it in these uncertain and stormy times.”
Again had Mr. Sinclair barred up his
own progress. He felt most keenly tho
fiirnsiness of his own w
‘pnrtw'mn,

THE SCOUT OF
saw that the individual he had solo" I
deavored to deceive, regarded him in his
true light—a beggar and avbanksupgand
a hypocrite at that! He resolved, how-
ever, with the desperation of elfrontmy, to -
make one more appeal before he threw oil
the mask entirely, and displayed to his
victim the instruments of torture.
“I perceive, madam,’ he said, “ that you
are inclined to rejoice at my misfortunes.
I am sorry to witness this, because of the
relations existing between us, and became
I have involved myselt'in seeking to-minir
ter to your comfort, and in providing for
your safety. The most unfeeling wouldat
‘ least commiserate with me in my calami-
ties. Your fortune is differently situated
from mine. It is in ready money, and
might easily be transferred in safety, by
means of some of his Majesty’s transports,
which are now employed in bringing troops
to this land of rebellion and in'grstitufie'l.
Your compliance with my request'wohld
would greatly facilitate that freedom 'for
which you so ardently long. Again I'ash
your consent, and request you to sigmthis
payer.” ; _"“ "r. all 3115'!
“And again, Mr. wait-Jeanna
sign it until you have complied Mth‘liiy' '
terms! Attribute my conduct to motives you please, but you will find' and
resolute in my determination.
penses you have incurred on my account;
you have incurred against my will, use
against my consent. They have-humus
source of grief and annoyance to me, and
of nobonetit to yourself. Farther parley is
regardto this matter is useless, and 'i play
you would drop the subject.” ' - '3'-
“Woman!” exclaimed Sinclair, fiom
bling with suppressed passion, “I am not.


73 THE SCOUT 01"
“prehenaxon. The searcn had proved un- with his fellow Tones, the one guano“
nmiling,anda part of his object now, in of which, was to be the protection of
ridding the “Mounted Monarch,” was to his domicil (‘mm the nucmcl'mentl d 0"
Fun an alliance “ ofl'emiva and defensivn," b.-


" er
_, Gnvflr
,kr_.i .-
snt ofthe reach of her persecutor when he
left; as he had locked him securely in the
mom, whilst his wife departed with Rachel
Morris.
It would be difficult to describe the workings
of Vernon’s countenance, whilst the narra-
tive proceeded; An unearthly light gleam-
ed in his dark eyes, showing that his soul
was fully aroused, and at times he grasped
the long hunting knife at his side, as if
Sinclair’s heart had been hared, to receive
its glittering edge. When Fitzgerald ceas-
ed speaking, he rose quickly upon his feet,
and wore with a solemn oath, that every
bufi'et that Sinclair had bestowed upon the
delicate check of Agnes Glenwood, should
be returned bysteel, an hundred fold.
For some time Vernon paced the shore of
the lake in front of his comrade, too highly
excited to converse. The perspiration
bursting from every pore, streamed down his
face, and by the convulsive twitching of
his mouth, and his labored respiration, his
companion could plainly see, that it was
with dificulty he could restrain himself from
bursting into tears. Fitzgerald felt deeply
for the mental sufferings of his friend, yet
he felt how utterly futile all attempts at con-
solation, from language, would prove. He
therefore sat in silence until the paroxysm
should exhaust itself.
I At length Vernon became more compos-
ed, and resumed his seat. He did not speak,
but seemed to be intently engaged with
those communings of the heart, too mighty
and full for utterance. He was aroused
from his reverie by the shrill blast ofs bugle;
and barely saying to his friend, “ that means
me,” he arose and walked toward his for-
tress
Fitzgera_d fonowed him, and when they
mixed the entrance in the rock, be dis-
covered Sampson sitting some am. cl
-....._., _
v
v; v:
with s. stranger dressed in uniform by If.
side. Vernon approached the stranger
quickly, and extending his hand exclaimed
in his usual tone—
“How goes the battle, Captain Searle
and what news do you bring from Stark ?’
“ Good news l” exclaimed the Captain.
“ The militia are prompt in returning tot-ha
field again, and our afi'airs appear bright”
ing below. The Long Island defeat was
not so bad as was anticipated, and many go
as far as to say, that driving Washington
from New York, will prove the salvation of
the cause, and of his army.”
“That is better than we expected !” ex-
claimed Vernon gaily. “The defeat very
much discouraged our friends this way.“
“ I have come from Stark ;” said the Cap-
tain, “ to request your attendance on the
lake shore, at the old rendezvous, near the
cove. The old chap has an exwdltlon in
view, that he think Willbe of great benefit
to the cause. He will meet you there, the
day after to-morrow. My business is home-
what urgent, and I will take your v answer
and depart.”
“ Of course I’ll meet him ;” replied Wr-
non; “ but you surely will not leave warm
tasting of our fare.”
“ Many thanks ;” returned the Captain
rising; “ Tommy Williams, who is out in
the bushes across the pond,‘ has rendered
your offer superfluous. ‘He has not only
fed me, but has most liberally administered
to my thirst, and acted as my pilot to in.
retreat.” -
The Captain depu )1 with Sampson, and
in a short time they were half way across
the 1m, in the mus boat, that had Fitzgerald to the secluded sPot. _ Aficrths'
rad departed, verses is than
panionandssid, I ' ' "-
“Your unis hm is‘msitiw " j 'I
~- , 1., . “.4, u
.~_v-¢M.~p->,...-~..V


THE SILVER POND.
Ila! go to Stark, for! greatly desire to see
him, in relation to a different exhibition
from the one he has on foot. Sampson is
determined to start for Boston to-morrow,
for what purpose I cannot ascertain. If you
had not have arrived, the little fortress
would have been deserted, a state of afl'airs
um I could hardly submit to. Messengers
arrive here almost daily, and unless they con-
fir with me, or some one in my secrets, it
disarranges the plans of our partisans in this
region. Iwill chronicle all messages that
are to be delivered, and you can guard the
Did cabin from surprise.”
Fitzgerald readily assented to this or-
rangement, and Vernon instructed him in
the signals which would be giVen, on the
rock from which themselves had embarked,
when they arrived from War-land. Others
were to be regarded as spurious, and were
1) receive no~notice. Vernon then entered
his little fortress, and seating himself at the
rough little table, he wrote out the difl'erent
messages that might possibly be called for
during his absence. The stores of ammu-
nition were also carefully shown him, and
Vernon presented him with a rifle, every
way superior to the one he lost, in the shiny
with the Tories, with which he could amuse
hintself in the pursuit of game, which was
abundant in the surrounding forest.
'These arrangements were detailed to
Sampson, on his return with the boat, and
he in his turn, inducted the young Scout
Into the mysteries of the larder. These im-
portant points attended to, the trio entered
into a brisk conversation, during which
Simpson was informed ot all the transac-
tions at Gleamin'gton, alter the departure
Vernon.
When mention was made of the 1mm '
u,
ly afl'ected than Vernon had be!
An expression of demoniac ngqsbsolntoiy
startling, convulsed his features, and hi
frame shook like an aspen, from pentq
passion. Both Vernon and his young com-
panion were greatly surprised at this exhi-
bition of feeling in .the old man, who was I
stranger in the land, and as they both sup-
posed, to its people. After his rage had is
a great measure subsided, the old man bar!
into tears, and as'if ashamed of his wesb
ness, hastily arose, and led the cabin. The
young men' sat in silence for some time after
his departure, at a loss to account for th"!
singular exhibition of both rage and tender-
HESS.
“That old man,”'said Vernon, breakin|
the silence, “is one of the most eccentrio
menI ever knew, and as I have hinted b
you before, lcanno't help thinking him, other
than he seems to be. Our association is a
little romance ofitself. and sometime, when
opportunity ofl'ers, I will give you the pn-
ticulars of it. Since our first meetinginlhs
prison at Boston, he has follow“ my‘fo‘ot-
steps, as. though he were my Have. 'fam
at a loss to eaélain the cspseof‘thia exhibition of feeling.” l'“ ‘ ' ‘
Further conversation was the entrance of Sampson, whose bore the traces of anemia He immediately set about tions for a light repssg‘afier be busily engaged in aiding ments is} departurei‘oh 'tho Imry am
After supper a supply of two journeyors, ma a small parcel sion's for'oach, was any prawns; sfler‘the m domihnadiatht Hemis-
norm of the ‘lien
' was dissip-
c A
ail ed) "o 57 't 31': 7‘ r-
WstofSinshirs wife, syn» w”
.r' r .i "-6.42 1.1-1
o J ‘
Lv
0
‘1',
v'di ‘ ' so‘ ‘.
sur » ~1- »


’u
'\ ,. rpm-14,. , _ _
must no? b'e‘iiilijécéd” to" danger." I shall
load the attacking patty to the other ex-i
hemityof the Hilalge; m1- whilst the action
i' Reins the", Stews myself and you,
if you choosenwill, visit their dwelling and
take them to a place of safety the forest."
“Why'iiot take them away befbre the
expedition sets."¢an idange'r would thus
be avoided. i (Fa my part, I most firmly he'-
Iieve ihstSinMair would himself place the
knife ._.sg, their throats, rather than they
should fall into our possession. He'is des-
1mm!” ., '1.
' 7“ I'riiiveiihéughtwf ail that, too'; but the
W'rmybuflvef'jest'l m'sdvinced,
nabs-sew Wrwwhquld do an,“
(that; We Wests me
no! to 'so. It .wo‘uldvbe bringing the
’rifigsllvé are rams: sour theiri;"dii-ect'-
mm assist? wli horrid"-iibt'-e1ipect’to
spirit them away in such u'inu‘n'mrc u not
I'D rite-Mn Sinclair’s . friends 1 Would
"ll-1+9 r'aflnildhewmfleé to. he»
“I.” t r . you its the. freak- Wild
56%“ therein" titties that; if Em;
she'sabsmm‘ssu' h'e' wohld’him-
“if Monmothaisemurdsreifl' J as You ' in"
robs-d r'ra l in?!) m: it More":
-. “ . , o“ .E- 'e-Ifae lime l a?
hidiiiiggfifi'filefl‘u “2% Phil! $9?
of the the? m Yoiiri plan; 'is‘th'd 'only‘ feasi—
ble one. On farther mdeensu’,“rliaisri£y;
that In'clnnote'qeef'MJiMTit—
Wm’t'flw Wmfiflflrtbwlhmrheq lbs
finds his prey ll gone. [tyriiljberworthfia
331221;? rsz-ritrglwmr: P! I”
'd “' We!" T'éii’ifiim" rive s*='-s&ir "Vernon,
through his closed teeth. “ My aura-um,
and ‘I sblH'hfle tbBrMisfsotion of meeting
1119 Maxwell‘s We fess 10 free, with:
m the'iiilwrfsténsé'vf '. Win? Jeri.-
métu‘éi 'mflésa’wbrek up his enigma»
“'Hi’i'b yamtréruulea 3n: flit"
flammaweaqtmmagmu. ‘
0' “Tea. t‘ili'h week" frotn' this day, the


from Snrkarem be wWarhnem- .
pared for the business-.1 must the Glealnington i'n'ow
ltthe‘ see to lhei'r arms,’_s.iid gonn-
~ with“
H;m_._i—IJ,
rail: soon"? or
soine other matters that we must have by
heart,’ before we set out. Sampson will
return before that time, and I can make him
acquainted with my plans before we are
ready to march.”‘ ,
“ By the ' way," interposed Fitzgerald,
“you promised to give me the history of
your connection with Mr. Combat, and I
now hold you to your. promise. I am anxi-
ous to know more of the man.”
“Well,” replied his friend, “ we shah
not probably obtain a better opportunity.
Atter to-day, we shall be busily employed,
and most of our time will be spr It in the
village. The arrangements for uur enter-
prise must be thorough and complete, and
nothing must be left toohance. The To-
ries will far outnumber us,_ do the best we
can, butfor that I do not fear. ‘The bat-
tle is not always to the strong.’ ”
“ The first timeI saw Sampson was in
my prison at Boston, where Ilwas planed, I
suppgne, by’thq kindness and consideration
of Mr. Joseph Sinclair. What kind of ar-
gument he used with my jailor, in order to
obtain admittance, :I am unable to' say, yet
I always thought it was a golden one—1
Afier being admitted to the wrotehhd’ room
Imupisdn he inquired if my name WI.
Km“, and if like," Aawfilsnm
implied, the @flimmtite, and as ifhelwl
been most intimate friend and" u-
hdaiii'tanoe',‘heiiiqtiireii particularly use
Mmihei- features, hei' causation‘iiii!
mmpiishn'ients. Afterl vharlwansuemtl
mam though-rot WWIPIIUKW
surprissdlatlhil inquiries. he asked mg
concerning fh‘er aunt: "they'llerig‘thv air time
she‘ii'ad been in the country,’h'er fortune;
horpolitiosnnd the mmmmior
with Sinclair: Llisnsrsred
all these interrogatories to the best of my
titties.» "he? 11°. om“! fl». ffldrw'f: 1*“
cost; andpresented rne with a,lelter_ fi'orn
' v ’ felt he requested ‘me to read
slo‘udi" 1 l '- i' ' -
Hwwpf‘iomhwhst out of burn: at 7 this
request, but yet I could not
refuse him. ' After I had finished the lat-
ter, he informed ms'that a project was on
6611‘! torv anil- moti'unongst the liberty boys," for In)


'ilfilileififinifln' es
Mira mform' ‘ ' 'ed' that" newton "rejdléé, the ID are thQ‘eWifly' .
~ mm "lfprttrttprttltr'iti' "r idlié'd'i~hirh"'if“thk‘t"l‘dididt?efiié‘lfie '9 wrap
temaw‘jitgtter or' Yre'r 'aiirit, emits b'oth ‘or'; the flanges '55 the nae-hf h
the questions, he‘ imam; yer. " T is iféi-febtliconvex'sahqnnd the knowledge
.him also if Agnes gave him the lettefllitm “ he ‘po'séess'e's' of their‘ discipline, en'd'mamiel'
he replied in the‘negat'il'vel When he arose of operating, has frequentlylieen themehiu
to leave me,‘h"e ofi’ered" me a'piiraejwhich I of givihg tooiir' wEnk' ind undieclplino'd le
refubed to necept. All'my efi'orte'to usbér- j iiiés,‘the‘iidvldnt1iige'ind the hietoi‘yymfi min the object of hid‘visit; proved hnav'ail- V' ‘ ‘9' fihee'b‘eén'led td' believe 'th'a'tlré by
mg; ‘He told me that he was lately ‘f'ifom 'been l‘n'th't':'Bi'i'tish"nei'tricv'e.~ I hovef told
England, and that was" ull'tlie'satis'faction 'you' Before; he'afl‘eét's' ignorance 'nrrd écbég.
I coinld obtain.” “ '-' " ‘ ' ' tricitiee, 'but'l'j’hav‘e rétrdn’to bdiév'e'thjfr
“ when the"1iberty boy's'httlempt'ed'my they are. oiil’y’ aflliéted.” Hé he's madeieyre
release, he wu't'he first man to cute? my rt] journeys" to‘ Boswh'tineé'weliijvbihr-
room a'ndiwith‘hinvoim hands, he knoc'lte'd ded at 'thé'Po'ndJ‘ahd'I s'oinetilnel'tliiliglk
of the feiteflthht hell are toi't'hé'fioorLL 'mnj have acqiraintenees there“; y‘et'lui'ifi-
He then séiied me’li'yfthe"arzn, and‘lé‘d the er mentions the name of hny‘in'ifivlid ' ' through the crowd in the streetfio‘fa' 55- ‘less, iildiee'dfi't he'Gage', or a
'row and secluded‘alley'. 'Here We emitted 'ldme'oxiel knozw'n to me; “snide i'te'li'u'éiili-
t house ofmeah‘extei‘iorfhnt'most humptli- templdtEd this" preheat visit. that isdtiééd
ously furnishedZ Within. theiti‘mé I 'that a' hin'd' of iineir‘siné's‘e was obliged to mmaih eonoealedi Iiwae 'a't mind“, ’and he flo'iéquddtfe'd ' 'i'o'i'i‘fl
this house, in' theenjoyri‘ie’h‘t df‘evéryi‘urul tne to" bripg Mék'a‘ éfign'ptidi'ohfihb’ 55,808,
ry that kindnese Eodld"deirlse.: in the' at"l “wild be rejoic'ed‘l‘b" d'ée'f ’Ae Thaw“
took aim ’S'hsim’s‘ Hausa; “sermon "Mia matmtfiaéree'nthiparctplti “write, aliltrlrhhrfi'thnntbn'e ‘Gf’the gréfltl W'Thh‘vebhéerfl'flly” replied with“ v r
diérl'Who which file;::c¢nfdnté§tifii t6 'hl'a qdestE-‘Eiidtime‘wm‘ infomi'iu', whath'ew
superior 'eivor'dinaiisliiiii ff’ may 't‘ettia'ir- paiiiofi’ifill’hé; mantras his'tdi'y "oflhl
posed to tail 'th'e' ‘ti'uth, We ’r‘vjéi-‘e 'ar‘r‘v'éir c'dnnémsa'or this "angina m WithTJii‘
back; u-‘§au1 Edward iifiéh'fiét'ted‘flih and such is all the information I ' W10“
circumstance more'that'iqfinipionl” "5"" hllhiiflo obtlin hifibW-r : " 97
“I lost sight of [Simpdo'ii' 'ih'i’fefi'dn'ye ' “It ’1‘! fittings,” i remaikefl“ ifier'thia afi'aii', foi- I riot retdrn to my “twins mania nanny lhih'g'btfl new;
Plate at concealment. hanie “fen if?“ yoa'thlnlq he t mart, traamwereathititaitagéna bemg martgmrr army; Its members' are in a gloomy ‘trtina‘armm' I‘feiolv'ed tip my tonlim” "1‘ Mm "‘* M“
make "it inywaae- ’ With' the afleije'tidhé‘of “ Amer Whiz than Smpponz" replied
Tommy Winiatrtgam'! a M 81161“ ‘gpiyifi, Vernon; “ is not in the eolon‘mg'ud '
Imade my little‘tnhinTin'tfie'roékQ-arid re: makes the matter more Itrange, he is ex-
zumed to Boston; I' then "chimed into the ceedingly well informed about our matter!
nervicc of the Committee of Safety, and es- of grievance, a not very common circum-
named the business of a scout. Since then stance, for those whorhavek resided in Eng-
l have been' the meme of rcommunidation land, for two yeare that" ' “ ' '
between Boston'and Albany, in?! the'my‘ r "Eerly‘in- fliermomingiflezfthid diedh'lbet
m our northern frontiers." -'-Y i'fif'r‘n!’ fill Vernon hadRitzg‘erald'replired to'Wuh‘id‘,
no” mywltr‘qumey‘here, which I pursued Ind-with the 'aseiitance of Tommy‘"Wilu
leilnrely, has overtaken by Sampson, and linrns, the Whigs of the little' nettlement
1e made known to me his determination of were collected together, and the plan for the
'esiding with me. He had proved so true reduction of the Tories efGleamingt'on;Iu
tfi'iend, and manifested so warm an inter- laid before them. All were eager fix 0"
It in my welfare, that I found it impossible fray, and arms and ammunition oldiehinym! . “WMM‘MQQD M-endthe‘aen drilled into-om


THE SILVER POND
abould more, were somewhat more than or.
dmarily addicted to the cup. With their
travelling brethren, they were soon on
terms of the strictest intimacy, and until
nfier the inhabitants were snug in bed, and
many of them soundly snoring, they indulg-
ed in deep and strong potations. When
their-travelling brethren proposed to start,
a parting glass was taken, the Gleamington
sentinels, having just enough of the powers
of volition left, to place a bottle to their
months.
As soon as their comrades departed,'these
worthy guardians of asacred trust, lay down
upon the ground, and shortly after gave
trumpet-toned notice, that they were in the
land of dreams. An observer might there
have seen, the figure of an old man, some-
what gray, yet quick and sprightly in every
movement, with arms of a remarkable length
stealing on tip-toe amongst them, carefully
abstracting their guns and ammunition, and
then leaving for a long range of low wil-
lows, that fringed the little creek, close at
hand.
Sometime before midnight, a bright, glar-
ing light flashed up from the eastern quar-
w of the settlement, followed quickly by
another in the southern extremity. A strong
redglare burst in at the windows of the
sleeping inhabitants, arousing them from
their repose. Soon after, one wild and fear-
ful voice, exerted to its highest key, broke
tbr almost unnatural stillness, by the ap-
palling cry of fire! The men rushed to
their doors in consternation, whilst the
women wrung their hands in speechless
agony, or grasping their babes, with ner-
vous anxiety shrieked fearfully, and rushed
into the illuminated streets.
Hither and thither, the flames burst forth,
aiif lighted by unseen devils. As the ter-
rified 'citizen stood gazing at the destruc-
tion 'of his neighbor’s tenement, his own
'oof suddenly and mysteriously ignited, ard
as was forced to fly toavoid the fury of the
lames. At length the inhabitants made a
rally, and most of them congregated 0n the
little green in front of the “ Mounted Mon.
arch,” from the windows, doors, and crevi-
see of which smoke and flames were al-
sssdyissuing Then aroseupeatls bl

air, a wild and piercing yell, drowning the
roar of the raging flames, and causing ths
blood of the terrified Tories to stand still is
their veins. Again was that unearthly
shout repeated, and a quick roll of discharg~
ing fire-arms followed it. h
Several of the Tories fell, and with terror
depicted upon their countenances, the ri-
maiuder, grasping their wives and children,
fled towards the hill-side. Immediately
upon their retreating footsteps, slowly and
solemnly emerging from the willows near
the creek, came Sampson Combat, and some
two hundred men, armed in the most fault-
less manner, and bearing upon their brawn]
breasts the most of the Com-manna Gol-
onnss ! "
Regardless of k the crackling flames and
shrieks of terror, With the steady and
measured tramp of drilled veterans, they
held their way, directly toward the man
sion of Sinclair, which had escaped the
flames as yet. The household had been
alarmed by the rear and glare of the can-
flagration, and were huddled together on
the little verandah. Sinclair at length
espied the approach of the column, and feel-
ing' that escape was impossible, he drew a
pistol from his pocket, and stepped upon the
little lawn. In a few moments alter, he
stood face to facewith Sampson Combat,
whilst all around were the grim faces of
armed men. After a brief gaze at Sin
clair, Sampson said: - "-
“ Joseph Sinclair, although the 'punisl-
ment of death is justly due to your criml,
yet if you return to me the person of ’Ag-
nes Gleenwood nnsollied as you receivd
her from the hands of the she wolf that be-
trayed her, your life may be spared.—
Otherwise you die the death of a dog!” -
“Who are you that so cavalierly ‘dO-
mands my wife ?”cried Sinclair, Haughtily.
“Wretch!”vexclaime_d Sampson, "die-
grace' hot her‘ fame by uttenngf a lie so
base! She is not your wife, she never
was your wife, and she would sooner be
the bride of death than acknowledge one
line of the calumny. I repeat it, deliver
her up to me !”
“And who are you P” again cried in
ski-
.., . "arr,