thrust an arm directly over the path, and so low as to endanger the head of a tall man moving along too erectly. The cry of each rider, therefore, as he passed under it, was to his immediate follower 66 Stoop low!-heads down!” Goggle heard this long before he reached it. He coolly prepared himself, buttoned his jacket closely, and freed his feet from his stirrups as he proceeded. He did this without the slightest precipitation or impatience. In order to accustom his horse to the relaxation of the bit, so that his movement might not undergo any change at the trying moment, he gradually yielded up the bridle, until the animal failed entirely to feel its restraints upon his mouth, then, dropping it altogether as he heard the cry of his predecessor to "stoop," instead of doing so, he threw his arms upward, caught the overhanging branch firmly with both hands, and with the activity of an ape lifted himself fairly out of the saddle, and for a moment swung in air. The horse passed from under him, and with his old habit followed the lead to which he had been accustomed. The succeeding steed approached, Goggle gave the cry, in the most measured language, and as he did so he whirled himself over out of the trooper's way, upon the top of the branch, where he sat with all a squirrel's sense of security. Here he remained in quiet as the troop proceeded. He knew the length of the defile, and could see in the distance the glimmering of the torch by which Humphries enumerated the troopers as they came forth from the avenue; and as the rear of the party with Davis was at hand, he felt secure that all would have passed him some time before his empty saddle would warn the lieutenant of his departure. A moment after, the voice of Davis, as he passed under the tree where the fugitive sat chuckling at his success, apprized him of the proper time to commence his flight. The ground was free, and dropping from his perch, the fugitive crossed the path, and took the water of the creek as soon as possible, following its course towards the river for a brief space, then turning aside and shrouding himself, while still keeping his way, in a close-set forest of small saplings. Here he had scarcely entered when the alarm was given. The vigilant Humphries had discovered the absence of the prisoner, as the untrammelled animal came forth from the defile. A confused shouting, a rush as of one or more in search, reached the ears of the fugitive; but he was safe, and laughed at all pursuit. The sound soon died away; and Goggle, who had lain quiet while the confusion lasted, now resumed his flight. Davis and one of the troopers had dashed back when the alarm was given; but in the thick darkness which shrouded the region, there was no prospect of retaking the prisoner so long as he kept silent. This was soon evident to Humphries, and, sore and chagrined, he hurried on the progress of the party, swearing vengeance against the tory, his hostility to whom had now received an added and doubly active stimulant. He reached the camp late at night without farther accident, and without meeting with Singleton, as the latter had proposed. They had taken different routes; and when the commander emerged from the swamp, he took the road back to the bridge, only accompanied by his youthful protegé. He reached the river just as the fugitive Goggle was about to emerge from the swamp. The latter heard at a distance the feet of the horse, and lay snug beside the road as they passed. The unobstructed starlight was now around them, and he was enabled to distinguish their persons. He conjectured what would be the course of Singleton, and he now beheld the opportunity of finding his reward with the British, and of gaining his revenge upon one, at least, of his American enemies. Toil and fatigue were at once forgotten, fear was discarded from his mind; and, now running, now walking, with an Indian pertinacity of spirit, he took the directest course leading to Dorchester. CHAPTER V. "Her words are so much music, caught from heaven Comes to her sway." THE hour was late when Goggle reached the village. The sentries were all set, and Proctor had retired for the night; but, aware of the value of his intelligence, the fugitive did not scruple to disturb him. He told his story at full, and had the satisfaction to find that he told it to a willing ear. Proctor at once proceeded to arm a party, and heading it himself, prepared to surprise the rebel partisan in the quiet dwelling to which Goggle had seen him pursuing his The British colonel was the more willing to way. move in this business now, than he otherwise might have been, as he had been troubled with some doubt whether the suspicious attitude of Colonel Walton had not already called for his attention. He was glad of an opportunity, therefore, of proving his alacrity in the cause, so much of which had been intrusted to him. We leave him, with a little troop of half a score, getting into saddle, and about to move in the direction of "The Oaks." Goggle remained behind, at the suggestion of Proctor, who needed not his assistance farther, and saw that his fatigued condition craved for immediate rest. Let us now return to Singleton and his attendant. Having reached the neighbourhood of "The Oaks," they took the back track leading to the river, which carried them immediately into the rear of the dwelling-house. There, dismounting, and carefully concealing their horses in the brush, Singleton placed his pistols in his belt, and leaving the boy in charge of the animals, with instructions to watch closely, proceeded to the mansion, Lance Frampton, proud of the trust, promised his commander to watch well, and approve himself a worthy sentinel. In a few moments after, the partisan was once more treading the well-known path, covered with those grave guardians of a century, the spreading and moss-bearded oaks, and on his way to the presence of those well beloved beyond all, and dearer to him than the lifeblood at his heart. It was not many minutes before he was at the side of the frail and attenuated form of her, the sister and the playmate of his boyhood; feeble to prostration, sustained by pillows, and scarcely able to turn upon him those lovely eyes, still bright, and brightening to the last, as if there the reluctant soul had concentrated its heavenward fires; and even there, clinging to mortality, evolved some of that divine light which it was so soon to be mingled with for ever. "Dear, dear Emily !" he exclaimed; "sister, sweet sister!"—and his lips were pressed to hers; and, though he strove hard for their suppression, the tears gathered in his large dark eyes. Hers were the only unclouded ones in the chamber. On one side sat his cousin Kate, while his aunt moved around the couch of the sufferer, duly administering to her wants. They too were in tears, and had evidently, before this, been weeping. It was a scene for tears; in which smiles had been irreverent, and joy an unbecoming and most impious intruder. Yet, though the dying girl wept not herself, and though her eye had in it that glorious effulgence which is so peculiarly the attribute of the victim to the deadly form of disease under which she laboured, yet the brightness of her glance was no rebuke to the tearfulness of theirs. It was a high and holy brightness; a deep expression, full of divine speech, and solemnizing even where it brightened with an aspect not of the earth. The light might have streamed from the altar, a halo from heaven around the brow of its most endowed apostle. She spoke to him of the commonest affairs of life; yet she knew that death was busy at her heart. Whence VOL. II.-D was this strength of mind-this confidence? Is there, indeed, a moment before the hour of dissolution when the mortal is vouchsafed communion, a close communion and converse with its God. It is, it must be so. The dim confine, the heavy earth, cannot always be around us. The soul must sometimes employ the wings of a divine prescience, and shaking off human care with human feeling, forget for a while the many pains, along with the humble pleasures, of humanity, and be only alive to the immortality of the future. The dark mansions of the coming time, and the huge and high barriers which control it, must then be thrown aside; and faith and the pure spirit, in their whitened vestments, already on, must be suffered to take a momentary survey of the world which is to be their own. But the spirit had come back to earth, and now grew conscious of its claims. 66 Dear, dear Robert !" she replied, as she motioned to be free from those caresses which he bestowed upon her; and which, though studiously light and gentle, were yet too much for a frame spiritualizing so fast: "you are come, Robert, and with no ill news. You have no harshness on your brow, and the vein is not swollen; and by this I know you have not been engaged in any war and violence. Is it not so?" He did not undeceive her, and suppressed carefully every allusion to his late adventures; spoke of indifferent things, and encouraged in her that idea of the national peace, which, from a hope, had already grown into a thought of her mind. "Oh, would that I could only hear of it, Robert, ere I leave you! Could I know that you were safe, all safe, before I died-you, dear aunt, and you, sister, my more than sister-and you, Robert, who have been to me father and brother, and all, so long; would I could know this, and I should die happy-even with joy! But death will have its sting, I feel, in this. I shall go to peace-I feel that; while all the strifes, and all the cares, the wounds, and the dangers, will be left for you!" |