"I met him in '75," said Colden, blurting awkwardly into the explanation that he knew had to be made, though little was his stomach for it. "He was pa.s.sing through New York from Boston to his home in Virginia, after he had deserted from the King's army--"

"Deserted?" Elizabeth opened wide her eyes.

Colden briefly outlined, as far as was desirable, what he knew of Peyton's story.

It was Miss Sally who then said:

"And he disarmed you in a duel?"

"He had practised under London fencing-masters, as he but now admitted," replied Colden, grumpily. "He made no secret of his desertion; and in a coffee-house discussion I said it was a dastardly act. So we--fought. Since then I've met officers of the regiment he left. Such a thing was never known before,--the desertion of an officer of the Sixty-third,--and General Grant, its colonel, has the word of Sir Henry Clinton that this fellow shall hang if they ever catch him."

"Then I hope my horse will carry him into their hands!" said Elizabeth, heartily. "My poor Cato! I shall never see him again!"

"We may get him back some day," said Colden, for want of aught better to say.

"If you can do that, John Colden, and have this rebel hanged who dared treat me so--" Elizabeth paused, and her look dwelt on the major's face.

"Well?"

"Then I think I shall almost be really in love with you!"

But Colden sighed. "A rare promise from one's betrothed!"

"Heavens, Jack!" said Elizabeth, now diverted from the thought of her horse. "Don't I do the best I can to love you? I'm sure I come as near loving you as loving anybody. What more can I do than that, and promising my hand? Don't look dismal, major, I pray,--and now make haste back to New York."

"How can I go and leave you exposed to the chance of another visit from some troop of rebels?" pleaded Colden, in a kind of peevish despair, taking up his hat from the settle.

"Oh, that fellow showed no disposition to injure _me_!" she answered, rea.s.suringly. "Trust me to take care of myself."

"But promise that if there's any sign of danger, you will fly to New York."

"That will depend on the circ.u.mstances. I may be safer in this house than on the road."

"Then, at least, you will have guns fired, and also send a man to one of our outposts for help?" There was no pretence in the young man's solicitude. Such a bride as Elizabeth Philipse was not to be found every day. The thought of losing her was poignant misery to him.

"To which one?" she asked. "The Hessian camp by Tippett's Brook, or the Highlanders', at Valentine's Hill?"

"No," said Colden, meditating. "Those may be withdrawn if the weather is bad. Send to the barrier at King's Bridge,--but if your man meets one of our patrols or pickets on the way, so much the better. Good-by!

I shall see your father to-night, and then rejoin my regiment on Staten Island."

He took her hand, bent over it, and kissed it.

"Be careful you don't fall in with those rebel dragoons," said Elizabeth, lightly, as his lips dwelt on her fingers.

"No danger of that," put in old Valentine, from the settle, for the moment ceasing to chew an imaginary cud. "They took the road to Mile Square." The octogenarian's hearing was better than his sight.

"I shall notify our officers below that this rebel force is out," said Colden, "and our dragoons may cut it off somewhere. Farewell, then! I shall return for you in a week."

"In a week," repeated Elizabeth, indifferently.

He kissed her hand again, bowed to Miss Sally, and hastened from the hall, closing the door behind him. Once outside, he made his way to the stables, where he knew that Cuff, not having returned to Elizabeth, must still be.

"It's little reward you give that gentleman's devotion, Elizabeth,"

said Miss Sally, when he had gone.

"Why, am I not going to give him myself? Come, aunty, don't preach on that old topic. My parents wish me to be married to Jack Colden, and I have consented, being an obedient child,--in some things."

"More obedient to your own whims than to anything else," was Miss Sally's comment.

The sound of Colden's horse departing brought to the amiable aunt the thought of a previous departure.

"That fine young rebel captain!" said she. "If our troops take him they'll hang him! Gracious! As if there were so many handsome young men that any could be spared! Why can't they hang the old and ugly ones instead?"

Mr. Valentine suspended his chewing long enough to bestow on Miss Sally a look of vague suspicion.

The door, which had not been locked or bolted after Colden's going, was suddenly flung open to admit Cuff. The negro boy had been thrown by the dragoons' visit into an almost comatose condition of fright, from which the orders of Colden had but now sufficiently restored him to enable his venturing out of the stable. He now stood trembling in fear of Elizabeth's reproof, stammering out a wild protestation of his inability to save the horse by force, and of his inefficacious attempts to save him by prayer.

Elizabeth cut him short with the remark, intended rather for her own satisfaction than for aught else, that one thing was to be hoped,--the chance of war might pay back the impertinent rebel who had stolen the horse. She then gave orders that the hall and the east parlor be lighted up.

"For the proper reception," she added to her aunt, "of the next handsome rebel captain who may condescend to honor us with a visit.

Mr. Valentine, wait in the parlor till supper is ready. I'll have a fire made there. Come, aunt Sally, we'll discuss over a cup of tea the charms of your pretty rebel captain and his agreeable way of relieving ladies of their favorite horses. I'll warrant he'll look handsomer than ever, on the gallows, when our soldiers catch him."

And she went blithely up the stairs, which at the first landing turned rightward to a second landing, and thence rightward again to the upper hall. The darkness was interrupted by a narrow stream of light from a slightly open doorway in the north side of this upper hall. This was the doorway to her own room, and when she crossed the threshold she saw a bright blaze in the fireplace, lights in a candelabrum, cups and saucers on a table, and Molly bringing in a steaming teapot from the next room, which, being northward, was nearer the kitchen stairs. This next room, too, was lighted up. Solid wooden shutters, inside the windows of both chambers, kept the light from being seen without, and the wind from being felt within.

As Elizabeth was looking around her room, smiling affectionately on its many well-remembered and long-neglected objects, there was a sudden distant detonation. Molly looked up inquiringly, but Elizabeth directed her to place the tea things, find fresh candles, if any were left in the house, and help Cuff put them on the chandelier in the lower hall, and then get supper. As Molly left the room, Miss Sally entered it.

"Elizabeth! Oh, child! There's firing beyond Locust Hill. It's on the Mile Square road, Mr. Valentine says,--cavalry pistols and rangers'

muskets."

"Mr. Valentine has a fine ear."

"He says the rebel light horse must have met the Hessians! There 'tis again!"

"Sit down, aunt, and have a dish of tea. Ah-h! This is comfortable!

Delicious! Let them kill one another as they please, beyond Locust Hill; let the wind race up the Hudson and the Albany road as it likes,--we're snugly housed!"

Williams, who had, from the upper hall, safely overheard Captain Peyton's intrusion, and had not seen occasion for his own interference, now came in from the next room, which he had been making ready for Miss Sally, and received Elizabeth's orders concerning the east parlor.

Meanwhile, what of Harry Peyton and his troop?

Riding up the little tree-lined road towards the highway, they saw dark forms of other riders standing at the point of junction. These were the men whom Peyton had directed to patrol the road. They now told him that, by the account of a belated farmer whom they had halted, the Hessians had turned from the highway into the Mile Square road. Peyton immediately led his men to that road. Thus, as old Valentine said, that part of the highway between the manor-house and King's Bridge remained clear of these rebel dragoons, and Major Colden stood in no danger of meeting them on his return to New York. The major, nevertheless, did not spare his horse as he pursued his lonely way through the windy darkness. When he arrived at King's Bridge he was glad to give his horse another rest, and to accept an invitation to a bottle and a game in the tavern where the British commanding officer was quartered.

The Hessians had not gone far on the Mile Square road, when their leader called a halt and consulted with his subordinate officer. They were now near Mile Square, where the Tory captain, James De Lancey, kept a recruiting station all the year round, and Valentine's Hill, where there was a regiment of Highlanders. Their own security was thus a.s.sured, but they might do more than come off in safety,--they might strike a parting blow at their pursuers. A plan was quickly formed. A messenger was despatched to Mile Square to request a small reinforcement. The troop then turned back towards the highway, having planned for either one of two possibilities. The first was that the rebel dragoons, not thinking the Hessians had turned into the Mile Square road, would ride on down the highway. In that case, the Hessians would follow them, having become in their turn the pursuers, and would fall upon their rear. The noise of firearms would alarm the Hessian camp by Tippett's Brook, below, and the rebels would thus be caught between two forces. The second possibility was that the Americans would follow into the Mile Square road. When the sound of their horses soon told that this was the reality, the Hessians promptly prepared to meet it.

The force divided into two parts. The foremost blocked the road, near a turning, so as to remain unseen by the approaching rebels until almost the moment of collision. The second force stayed some rods behind the first, forming in two lines, one along each side of the road. As to each force, some were armed with sabres and cavalry pistols, but most, being mounted yagers of Van Wrumb's battalion, with rifles.

As for the little detachment of Lee's Light Horse that was now galloping along the Mile Square road, under Harry Peyton's command, the arms were mainly broadswords and pistols, but some of the men had rifles or light muskets.