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"Janice, do as thou art told, or go to thy room," ordered
the mother.

The girl opened her lips as if about to protest, but courage
failed her, and she hurriedly left the parlour, and flying to her
room, she threw herself on the bed and wept out her sense of
wrong on her pillow.

"I never would have, if he had n't--and it was n't I asked
him to the house--and he took a mean advantage--and he
was n't scolded for it, nor shamed to all the people--and now
they show him every honour, though he--though for a year it
was held up to me."

Presently the girl became conscious of the clatter of knives
and forks on plates in the room beneath her, and of an accompaniment
of cheerful voices and laughter. Far from lessening
her woe, they only served to intensify it, till finally she rose in
a kind of desperation, wishing only to escape from the merry
sounds. "I'll go and see Clarion and Joggles and Jumper,"
she thought. "They love me, and--and they don't punish
me when others are to blame."

Not choosing to pass through the kitchen, where the dragoons
would probably be sitting, she stole out of the front door,
without wrap or calash, and in an instant was almost swept off
her feet and nearly blinded by the rush of wind and snow.
Heeding neither, nor the instant wetting of her slippered feet,
she struggled on through the waxing drifts to the stable door.
With a sigh of relief that the goal was attained, she passed
through the partly open doorway and paused at last, breathless
from her exertion.

On the instant she caught her breath, however, and
then demanded, "Who 's there?" A whinny from Joggles
was the only response. Taking no heed of the horse's greeting,
Janice stood, listening intently for a repetition of the
sound that had alarmed her. "I heard you," she continued,
after a moment. Then she gave a little cry of fright, which
was scarcely uttered when it was succeeded by a half-sob and
half-exclamation of mingled joy and relief. "Oh, Clarion!"
she exclaimed, "you gave me such a turn, with your cold nose.
And what was mommy's darling doing with the harness? I
thought some one was here."

Again Joggles whinnied, and, her fright entirely gone,
Janice walked to his stall. "Was my precious glad to get
back?" she asked, patting him on the back as she went into
the stall. "Why, my poor dear! Did they go to their supper
without even taking his saddle off? Well, he should--
and his bridle, too, so that he could n't eat his hay! 'T was a
shame, and--" Once again, Janice uttered an exclamation
of fright, as her fingers, moving blindly forward in search of
the buckle, came in contact with some cloth, under which she
felt a man's arm. Nor was her fright lessened, though she
did not scream, when instantly her arm in turn was seized
firmly. The unknown peril is always the most terrifying.

"I did not want to frighten you, Miss Janice--" began the
interloper.

"Charles!" ejaculated the girl. "I mean, Colonel Brereton."

"I thought you 'd scarcely come into the stall, and hoped
to get away undiscovered."

"But what are you--I thought you were across--How
did you get here?"

"I had business to the northward," explained the officer,
"and meant to have been in Bound Brook by this time. But
the cursed snow came on, and, not having travelled the westerly
roads, I thought best to keep to those with which I was
familiar, though knowing full well that I ran the risk of landing
in the arms of the British. Fortunately their troops are no
fonder of facing our American weather than our American
riflemen, and tucked themselves within doors, leaving it to
us--" There the aide checked his flow of words.

"But why did you come here?"

Brereton laughed. "Does not a runaway servant always
turn horse thief? My mare has covered near forty miles to-day,
the last ten of it in the face of this storm, and so I left her
at the Van Meter barn, and thought to borrow Joggles to ride
on to Morristown to do the rest." Colonel Brereton's hand,
which had continued on the girl's arm, relaxed its firm hold,
and slipped down till it held her fingers. "And then, I--I
wanted word of you, for the stories of Hessian doings that
come to us are enough to make any man anxious." Janice felt
his lips on her hand. "All is well with you?" he asked
eagerly, after the caress.

Janice, forgetful of her recent woe, answered in the affirmative,
as she tried to draw herself away. Her attempt only led
to the man's hand on hers tightening its grip. "I can't let you
go, Miss Janice, till you give me your word not to speak of this
meeting. They could scarce catch me such a night, but my
mission is too vital to take any risks."

"I promise," acceded Janice, readily.

Brereton let go her hand at once, and his fingers rattled the
bit, as he hastily completed the buckling the girl's entrance
had interrupted. "If I never return, you will claim your namesake,
my mare, Miss Janice," he suggested as he backed Joggles
out of the stall. "And treat her well, I beg you. She's
the one thing that has any love for me. God knows if I ever
see her again.

Forgetting that Brereton could not see her, Janice nodded
her head. "You are going for good?" she asked.

"I fear for anything but that! For good or bad, however,
I must ride my thirty miles to-night."

"Thirty miles!" cried Janice, with a shiver. "And your
hands are dreadfully cold, and your teeth chatter."

"'T is only the chill of inaction after hard and hungry riding.
Ten minutes of cantering will set the blood jumping
again."

"Can't you wait a moment while I get something for you to
eat?" besought the girl.

"Bless you for the thought," replied the aide, with a little
husk in his voice. "But my mission is too important to risk
delay, much more the nearness of yon dragoons."

"For what are you going?" questioned Janice.

"To order--to get the dice for a last desperate main."

"General Washington is going to try--?"

"Ay. Ah, Miss Janice, they have beaten our troops, but
they've still to beat our general, and if I can but make Lee--
I must not linger. Wilt give me a good-by and God-speed
to warm me on the ride?"

"Both," answered Janice, holding out her hand, which the
officer once again stooped and kissed. "And to-night I'll
pray for his Excellency.'

Brereton shoved open the door wide enough for the horse
to pass through. "And not for his Excellency's aide?" he
asked.

Janice laughed a little shyly as she replied: "Does not the
greater always include the lesser?"

Barely were the words spoken, when a sound from the outside
reached them, making both start and listen intently. It
needed but an instant's attention to resolve the approaching
noise into the jingle of bits and sabres.

"Hist!" whispered the officer, warningly. "Cavalry."
He threw back the holster-flap of the saddle to free a pistol,
and, grasping his scabbard to prevent it from clanking, he
stepped through the doorway, leading Joggles by the bridle.

"Ho, there!" came a voice out of the driving snow.
"We've lost sight and road. Which way is 't to Greenwood?"

Brereton put foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle.
"Away to the right," he responded, as he softly drew his
sabre, and slipped the empty scabbard between his thigh and
the saddle. Gathering up the reins, he wheeled Joggles to the
left.

"Can't ye give us some guidance, whoever ye be?" asked
the voice, now much nearer, while the sound of horses' breathing
and the murmur of men's voices proved that a considerable
party were struggling through the deepening snow. "Where
are you, anyway?'

Brereton touched Joggles with the spur gently, and the
steed moved forward. Not five steps had been taken before
the horse shied slightly to avoid collision with another, and,
in doing so, he gave a neigh.

"Here 's the fellow, Hennion," spoke up a rider. "Now
we'll be stabled quick enough." He reached out and caught
at the bridle.

There was a swishing sound, as Brereton swung his sword
aloft and brought it down on the extended arm. Using what
remained of the momentum of the stroke, the aide let the
flat of the weapon fall sharply on Joggles' flank; the horse
bounded forward, and, in a dozen strides, had passed through
the disordered troop.

A shrill cry of pain came from the officer, followed by a
dozen exclamations and oaths from the troopers, and then a
sharp order, "Catch or kill him!"

"Ha, Joggles, old boy," chuckled his rider, "there 's not
much chance of our being cold yet a while. But we know the
roads, and we'll show them a trick or two if they'll but stick
to us long enough."

Bang! bang! bang! went some horse-pistols.

"Shoot away!" jeered the aide, softly, though he leaned
low in the saddle as he wheeled through the small opening
in the hedge and galloped over the garden beds. "'T is only
British dragoons who'd blindly waste lead on a northeaster.
'T is lucky the snow took no offence at my curses of it an
hour ago."

XXIX
ON CONTINENTAL SERVICE

Once across the garden, the aide rode boldly, trusting
to the snow overhead to hide his doings and the
snow underfoot to keep them silent. Turning
northward, he kept Joggles galloping for five
minutes, then confident that his pursuers had been distanced,
or misled, he varied the pace, letting the horse walk where the
snow was drifted, but forcing him to his best speed where the
road was blown clear.

"We know the route up to Middlebrook, Joggles; but after
that we get into the hills, and blindman's work 't will be for
the two of us. So 't is now we must make our time, if we are
to be in Morristown by morning."

The rider spoke truly, for it was already six o'clock when he
reached the cross-roads at Baskinridge. Halting his horse at
the guide-post, he drew his sword and struck the crosspiece a
blow, to clear it of its burden of snow.

"Morristown, eight miles," he read in the dark grayness of
approaching day. "Hast go enough in thee left to do it, old
fellow? Damn Lee for his tardiness and folly, which forces
man and beast to journey in such cold." Pulling a flask from
his pocket, he uncorked it. "There's scarce a drop left, but
thou shouldst have half, if it would serve thee," he said, as he
put it to his lips and drained it dry. "'T is the last I have,
and eight miles of Lee way still to do!" He laughed at his
own pun, and pricked up the horse. Just as the weary animal
broke into a trot, the rider pulled rein once more and looked
up at a signboard which had attracted his notice by giving a
discordant creak as the now dying storm swung it.

"A tavern! Here 's luck, for at least we can get some more
rum." Spurring the horse up to the door, he pulled a pistol
from its holster and pounded the panel noisily.

It required more than one repetition of the blows to rouse
an indweller, but finally a window was enough raised to permit
the thrusting out of a becapped head.

"Who's below, and what do yez want?" it challenged
gruffly.

"Never mind who I am. I want a pint of the best spirits
you have, and a chance to warm myself for a ten minutes, if
you've a spark of fire within."

"Oi've nothin' for anny wan who comes routin' me out av
bed at such an hour, an' may the devil fly off wid yez for that
same," growled the man. "Go away wid yez, an' niver let me
see yez more."

The head was already drawn in, when Brereton, with quick
readiness, called lustily: "Do as I order, or I'll have my
troopers break in the door, and then look to yourself."

"Just wan minute, colonel," cried the man, in a very different
tone; and in less than the time asked for the bolts were
slipped back and the door was opened by a figure wrapped in
a quilt, which one hand drew about him, while the other held
a tallow dip aloft.

In the brief moment it took to do this, the officer not so
much dismounted as tumbled from his horse, and he now
walked stiffly into the public room, stamping his feet to lessen
their numbness.

"Where 's thim troopers yez was talkin' av?" questioned
the landlord, peering out into the night.

"Throw some wood on those embers, and give me a drink
of something, quickly," ordered Brereton, paying no heed to
the inquiry.

"Bad 'cess to yea lies," retorted the man, shutting the door.
"It's not wan bit av firing or drink yez get this night from--
Oh, mother in hivin, don't shoot, an' yez honour shall have the
best in the house, an' a blessin' along wid it! Only just point
it somewheer else, darlin', for thim horse-pistols is cruel fond
av goin' off widout bein' fired. Thank yez, sir, it 's my wife
in bed will bless the day yez was born." The man hastily
raked open the bed of ashes and threw chips and billets on
the embers. Then he unlocked a corner cupboard. "Oi've
New England rum, corn whiskey, an' home-made apple-jack,
sir."

"Give me the latter, and if you've any food, let me have
it. Brrrew! From nigh Brunswick I've rid since nine last
night and thought to perish a dozen times with the cold, dismount
and run beside my horse as I would."

"Drop that pistol, or I shoot!" came a sharp order,
spoken from the gloom of a doorway across the room.
"You are a prisoner."

Brereton had been stooping over the fire, as it gained fresh
life, but with one spring he was behind the chimney breast.

"'T is idle to resist," persisted the hidden speaker. "The
way is barred in both directions, and there are three of us."

Brereton laughed recklessly. "Come on, most courageous
three. I've a bullet for one, and a sword for two."

"Howly hivin! just let me out first off," besought the
publican.

"If I had lead to spare, you should have the first of it
for letting me into this trap," Brereton told him viciously.
"Why did you not warn me there were British hereabout?"

"Hold!" came the distant voice. "If you think us
British, who are you?"

The officer hesitated, pondering on the possibility of being
tricked, or of possibly tricking. "If you were a gentleman,"
he said, after a pause, "you 'd give me a hint as to which side
you belong."

The unseen man laughed heartily at Jack's reply. "Set me
an example, then."

"That I will," said Jack, "though I don't guarantee the
truth of it. I am an aide of General Washington, riding on
public service.

"Time enough it took you to know it. And if so, what
were you doing near Brunswick?"

"I took the route I knew best."

"Thy name is?"

"Jack Brereton."

"Art thou a green-eyed, carrot-faced put, who frights all
the women with his ill looks?" cried the man, entering.

Brereton laughed as he stepped out from the sheltering
projection. "Switch you, whoever you are, for keeping me
from the fire when I am chilled to the marrow. Why, Eustace,
this is luck beyond belief! But hast swallowed a frog?
You croak so that I knew you not."

"Not I," responded the new-comer, shaking his fellow-officer's
hand, "but I swallowed enough of yesterday's storm to
spoil my voice, let alone this creeping out of bed in shirt only,
to catch some malignant Tory or spy of King George."

"Where art thy comrades?" inquired Brereton, peering
past the major.

Eustace laughed. "They 're making acquaintance with
thy troop of horse."

"But what art thou doing here in this lonely hostel, with a
British force no further away than Springfield? Dost court
capture?"

"Just what I told the general when he said he'd bide here
till--"

"The general!" interrupted Brereton. "Is Lee here--in
this tavern?"

"Ay. And sleeping through all the rout you made as
sound--"

"'T is madness! However, I'll not throw blame, for it
has saved me eight miles of weary riding. Wake him at
once, as I must have word with him. And you, landlord,
stable my horse, and see to it that he has both hay and oats
in plenty."

There was some delay before Eustace returned with the
word that the major-general would see the aide, and with
what ill grace the interview was granted was shown by the
reception, for on Brereton being ushered into the room, it was
to find Lee still in bed, and so far under the counterpane that
only the end of a high-coloured but very much soiled nightcap
was in view, while on the top of the covering lay two dogs,
who rose with the entrance of the interloper.

"Who the devil are ye; why the devil did ye have me
waked; and what the devil do ye want?" was the greeting,
grumbled from the bedclothes.

Brereton flushed as he answered sharply: "Eustace has no
doubt told you who I am, and letters from his Excellency must
have already broke the purport of my mission. Finding you
paid no heed to his written orders, he has sent me with verbal
ones, trusting your hearing may not be as seriously defective
as your eyesight."

The head of the general appeared, as he sat up in bed. "Is
this a message from General Washington?" he vociferated.

"No. 'T is my own soft speaking, in recognition of your
complaisant welcome. But I bear a message of his Excellency.
He directs that you march the entire force under you,
without delay, by way of Bethlehem and Easton, and effect a
junction with him."

"To what end?"

"The British think us so bad beat, and are so desirous
to hold a big territory, for purposes of forage and plunder,
that they have scattered their troops beyond supporting distance.
Can we but get a force together sufficient to attack
Burlington, Trenton, or Princeton, 't will be possible to beat
them in detail."

"I have a better project than that," asserted Lee. "Let
Washington but make a show of activity on the Delaware, and
he shall hear of my doings shortly."

"But what better can be done than to drive them back
from a country rich with food supplies, relieve the dread of
their advancing upon Philadelphia, and give the people a
chance to rally to us?" protested the aide.

"Pooh!" scoffed Lee. "'T is pretty to talk of, but 't is
another thing to bring it off, and I make small doubt that
't will be no more successful than the damned ingenious
manoeuvres of Brooklyn and Fort Washington, which have
unhinged the goodly fabric we had been building. I tell you
we shall be in a declension till a tobacco-hoeing Virginian, who
was put into power by a trick, and who has been puffed up
to the people as a great man ever since, is shown to be most
damnably weak and deficient. He 's had his chance and
failed; now 't is for me to repair the damage he's done."

Brereton clinched his fist and scowled. "Do I understand
that you refuse to obey the positive orders of his Excellency?"

"'T is necessary in detachment to allow some discretion to
the commanding officer. However, I'll think on it after
I've finished the sleep you've tried to steal." The general
dropped back on the pillows, and drew up the bedclothes so
as to cover his nose.

The aide, muttering an oath, stamped noisily out of the
room, slamming the door with a bang that rattled every window
in the house.

"I read failure in your face," remarked Eustace, still
crouched before the fire.

"Failure!" snapped the scowling man, as he, too, stooped
over the blaze. "Nothing but failure. Here, when the
people have been driven frantic by the outraging of their
women and the plundering of their property, and want but
the smallest encouragement to rise, one man dishes all our
hopes by his cursed ambition and disobedience."

"How so?"

Too angry to control himself, even to Lee's aide, Jack continued
his tirade. "Ever since the general was put into office
his subordinates have been scheming to break him down, and
in Congress there has always been a party against him, who,
through dislike or incapacity, clog all he advises or asks. With
the recent defeats, the plotters have gained courage to speak
out their thoughts, and your general goes so far as to refuse to
obey orders that would make possible a brilliant stroke, because
he knows that 't would stop this clack against his
Excellency. Instead, he would have Washington sit passive
and freezing on the Delaware while he steals the honours by
some attempted action. And all the while he is writing to his
Excellency letters signed, 'Yours most affectionately,' or 'God
bless you,'--cheap substitutes for the three thousand troops
he owes us." The aide went to the cupboard and helped
himself to the apple-jack. "Canst get me a place to sleep,
for God knows I'm tired?"

"Thou shalt have my bed, and welcome to thee," offered
Eustace, leading the way upstairs. "Thou'lt not mind my
getting into my clothes, for 't is not shirt-tail weather."

"Sixty miles and upward I've come since five o'clock yesterday
morning, and I'd agree to sleep under a field-piece in
full action." Brereton took off his cap and wig to toss both
on the floor, unbuckled his belt, and let his sabre fall noisily;
then sitting on the bed, he begged, "Give me a hand with my
boots, will you?" Those pulled off without rising he rolled
over, and, bundling the disarranged bedclothes about him, he
was instantly asleep.

It was noon before consciousness returned to the tired body,
and only then because the clatter of horses' feet outside waked
the sleeper and startled him so that he sprang from the bed
to the window. Relieved by the sight of Continental uniforms,
Brereton stretched himself as if still weary, and felt certain
muscles, to test their various degrees of soreness, muttering
complaints as he did so. Throwing aside his jacket, waistcoat,
and shirt, he took his sword and pried out the crust of
ice on the water in the tin milk-pail which stood on the wash-stand.
Swashing the ice-cold water over his face and shoulders,
he groaned a curse or two as the chill sent a shiver
through him. But as he rubbed himself into a glow, he became
less discontented, and when resuming the flannel shirt,
he laughed. "Thank a kind God that it 's as cold to the
British as 't is to us, and there are more of them to suffer."
Another moment served to don his outer clothing and boots,
and to fit on his wig and sword. His toilet made, he went
downstairs, humming cheerily. He turned first to the kitchen
door, drawn thither by the smell that greeted his nostrils.

"Canst give a bestarved man a big breakfast and quickly?"
he asked the woman.

"Shure, Oi've all Oi can do now," was the surly response,
"wid the general an' his staff; an' his escort, an' thim as is
comin' an' goin', an'--"

Brereton came forward. "Ye 'd niver let an Oirishman go
hungry," he appealed, putting a brogue on his tongue.
"Arrah, me darlin', no maid wid such lips but has a kind
heart." The officer boldly put his hand under the woman's
chin and made as if he would kiss her. Then, as she eluded
the threatened blandishment, he continued, "Sure, and do ye
call yeself a woman, that ye starve a man all ways to wanst?"

"Ah, go long wid yez freeness and yez blarney," retorted
the woman, giving him a shove, though smiling.

"An', darlin'," persisted the unabashed officer, "it's owin'
me somethin' ye do, for it was meself saved yez father's life
this very morning."

"My father--shure, it 's dead he's been this--It 's my
husband yez must be afther spakin' av."

"He 's too old to be that same," flattered Brereton.

"'T is he, Oi make shure," acknowledged the woman, as
she nevertheless set her apron straight and smoothed her
hair. "An' how did yez save his loife?"

"Arrah, by not shooting him, as I was sore tempted to do."

The landlady melted completely and laughed. "An' what
would yez loike for breakfast?" she asked.

Brereton looked at the provisions spread about. "Just give
me four fried eggs wid bacon, an' two av thim sausages, an
corn bread, wid something hot to drink, an' if that 's buckwheat
batter in the pan beyant, just cook a dozen cakes or so,
for I've a long ride to take an' they do be so staying. Also,
if ye can make me up something--ay, cold sausages an'
hard-boiled eggs, if ye've nothing else, to take wid me; an'
then a kiss, to keep the heart warm inside av me, 't is wan
man ye'll have given a glimpse av hivin."

"Bless us all!" marvelled Eustace, when twenty minutes
later he entered the kitchen, to learn what delayed the general's
lunch. "How came you by such a spread, when it 's
all any of us can do to get enough to keep life in us? Is 't
sorcery, man?"

"No, witchery," laughed the aide. "If thy chief were but
a woman, Eustace, I'd have Washington reinforced within a
two days."

His breakfast finished, the aide secured pen and paper, and
wrote a formal order for Lee to march. This done, he sought
the general, and, interrupting a consultation he was holding
with General Sullivan, he delivered the paper into his hands.

"I ask General Sullivan to witness that I deliver you positive
instructions to march your force, to effect a junction with
General Washington."

"I've already writ him a letter that will convince him I act
for the best," answered Lee, holding out the missive.

The aide took it without a word, saluted, and left the room.
Going to the front door, where Joggles already awaited him,
he put a Continental bill into the hands of the publican, bade
adieu to Eustace, and rode away.

"'T is as bright a day as 't was dark a night, old man," he
said to the horse, "but it never looked blacker for the cause,
and I've had my long ride for nothing. Perhaps, though,
there may be pay day coming. She knows that I'm to be
at Van Meter's barn to-night. What say you, Joggles? Think
you will she be there?"