"THE SWAMP RIDERS;

on,

THE BLACKSMITH OF CAMDEN.

BY GEORGE DARCY GILBERT.

‘ NEW YORK: ‘
' BEADLE AND ' ADAMS, PUBLISHERS.
,  « Nawwmms'rmn' ’ , '

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may! according to Act of Congress. in the your fig. by

BEADLE AND ADAMS.
In tho oficn or the “hm-Inn or Congrats, at Washing“

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THE

SWAMP RIDERS.

CHAPTER I.
Tim VILLAGE emu.

 

Tim sun was going down, and the village of Camden was
still in a bustle. They had good reason for being unquiet on
that day, for the town was full of British troops, scattered
about in groups leaning on their sabers, or standing with hands
folded in front, after the manner of soldiers at rest. They
were dragoons, mostly Irish and English, heavily armed and
equipped. They were a part of the troop of Major Darnier,
a noted English leader. under Tarleton.

It was at the period in the history of the Revolution when
every thing looked dark for the colonies. Some of the inhabi-
tants had been forced to take “ protections.” Others still were
in the swamps and woods, hunted like beasts of the forest.
A passing glance at the faces of the people of Camden would
have showed the most casual locker-on that the South Carolio
nians bore the presence of these men very ill, and would have
done any thing in their power to, drive them out. But, the
Whigs knew their own weakness, and that it was not policy
at this time to notice the insolence of the British.

The village smithy stood upon the principal street, and the
rapid sound of hammers, together with the number of horses
tethered before the door, showed that the smith was busy.
The doors were open, and revealed a number of men standing
within the shop. One of these was the smith—a man of
stalwart build, over six« feet in hight, with the brawn and
muscles of a giant of old. As he raised his hammer tostrlke
a blow, the great ridges of his knotted muscles stood out lik
cords. . ‘ r
. Thence of the smith was an index of power, while the
good-natured smile'whieh played about his lips showed that.

 

  

  

to m swm RIDERS.

like most powerful men, he was a jolly fellow. His black hair,
cut close to his head, was grimed with smoke and soot. His

arms, bored to the shoulder, were brown and hard. He might
' have been forty years of age.

f‘ Strike, Dan Maloney. Strike, while the iron is hot i” he
cried to his assistant. ’

“ Sure an’ ain’t I strikin’ the very heart out av me body ?"
said the attendant, in a rich brogue which could only come
from an Irish mouth. “ There 1”

The sparks flew from the iron as the heavy sledge descended,
' The smith’s assistant was a son of the “ gem av the say,” and
a great character in his way. He had one of those peculiarly
droll, irresistible faces which we so often see in members of
his nation—Pa rollicking, devil-mny-care expression which was
both shrewd and fun-loving. His red hair bristled like quills,
and was stained and streaked with soot, giving an additional
charm to this feature. He was further benutified by a streak of
soot reaching from the corner of his eye to his chin. His face
was freckled, and altogether, Dan Maloney could hardly he
called a beauty. Yet he was a strongly-built fellow, and
would not have been the easiest mam in the world to put down
in a struggle, as many of the wrestlers in Camden could to:-
tify. '
“A good theory that of yours, blacksmith,” said one of
the loungers in the shop. “ ‘ Strike while the iron is hot.’

That is what I say to the commanders. Give these knaves
' no rest; follow them with sharp iron and a bloody spear

wherever they go, and the war will he over in a twelvemonth."

“You think so, major?" said the smith. “And yet the
boys in the swamps are a healthy set of lads, not easy put
l down. Bring in that sorrel hoes, Dan. We’ll shoe him next
I was saying these chaps in the swamps are the most opiniom
ated set of fellows you ever see. To hear ’em talk, you’d
think they liked to fight the troopers better than to eat a hearty
meal. I don’t reckon they’re right, though i”

, “ Nonsense,” said the major, “ They melt before our fellows
like ice before the sun. They can’t stand the push of the
bayonets.” v '

r “ That moat be true win. But, did it ever occur toyon,
was Dormer, that it ain’t reisonsble to expect them tom

  

 

_._..

WK 7.,—

 

. 

  

ms sun!!! AND THE omens. 11

up ag’in' bayonets, unlest they‘have bayonets too 1’ That‘s what
I‘m a-studyin’ on.” , ‘

“They had bayonets at Camden battle-field,” replied'the
major.

“So they did, major—at least the Marylanders did, and
they do say they mowed a most etarnal swath. ’Tain’t no
use to talk. The Continentals stood up well. Give the devil
his due.”

The major turned his handsome face angrily toward tho
speaker. The British ofilcer was young, and had one of those
faces which God seldom gives to man—a face almost femi-
nine in its contour, but with a stern look about the lips which
spoke of manhood too. Few men in the British army could
boast of greater accomplishments than be. In his school days
he had dabbled in every thing a little. He could sketch quickly
and well, sing in a brilliant tenor, read almost any European
language, and talk upon any subject. One would have thought
him but a drawing-room soldier until they had seen him in
battle. There he was another man. A sort of fierce thry
seemed to take possession of him, and he raged like a very
fiend. The people of the Carolinas had good cause to know
him, for he had harried the borders many a time and oft.

“ Sir smith,” said he, “ are you a rebel ?”

“ You’d better ask my neighbors than me. I mout not.
give you a true answer. Come, major, you know me well.
enough, and you know that Tom Matthews can’t be skeered.
I'm stayin’ here in Camden, minding my own business and
letting other people enjoy the same blessin’. I know’d a man
that got rich by it can’t.” '

“ Then don’t uphold the traitors in my presence, or you may
chance to get into trouble. I know that there is more disaf-
fection in this district than our people dream of. You had
better take care.”

“ Thank ye for the caution. W! aid you like this foot cut
down here? The man that shoed this hoss ought to be hung.
One of these army farriers—I know the breed well. They ain’t
got no melin' for boss-flesh. Give me that knife, Dan. ' What
are you staring at !‘ If you don’t mend your ways pocty 300
you’ll git in a wuss diflikilty than I ever was, qonsarn‘ it.”

“ You are independent, Mr. Matthews." . '

 

 
 

  

  

B m swm mama.

“ Yes, rayther so. It runs in the breed. None of us are
likely to stand any nonsense, no matter from whenc’t it comes.
I don‘t know whether you ever found it out, but we of the
south have a kind of streaking notion that we are as good as
any Englishman that ever trod the sile.”

“ Whoop i" said Dan Maloney. “ It’s talkin’ ye are, Masther
Tomi Sure ye mind me av the time when I was in England.

‘ That's the fine place for a poor man to live. Plenty to ate an
drink-—av ye can get it—an’ sorra the sup av throuble at all.
Arrah, but its a fine life we live unther the good King Jarge."

“ I doubt whether you believe that, my flue man. Ahl who
is this i”

A gentleman had ridden into the village and was seated in
the saddle, taking a leisurely survey of the town. He was a
young man, in a plain civilian dress, wearing only sword and
pistols as weapons of defense. His face was handsome, and
had a proud look in it. The frame was welLknit, though not >
large, and he looked like a gentleman born. His dark eyes
rover-l over the place, and then he slipped out of the saddle at
the door of the smithy.

“ My horse has cast a shoe, blacksmith,” he said. “ Do me
the favor to attend to it as soon as possible.”

Matthews gave one glance at the speaker, nodded an aflir—
motive and then bent over his work, whistling. The young
man walked back to the village tavern and sat down upon
the veranda. Damier gave a meaning glance at his compan‘
ions, and lounged out after him. When he reached the tavern
he found the stranger seated, and looking carelessly about him.
while he trifled with a glass at his elbow, which contained
excellent Madeira. He looked at Darnier, as he came up, with
the cool, passing glance which strangers give each other, and '
continued his abstracted survey of the village. The troopers
were idling up and down, in an aimless manner, staring at
ladies who passed, and uttering compliments or derision, as it
pleased their fancy.

- “ A traveler, I presume," said Darnier, beginning a conver-
sation with the stranger. “ I am Major Darnier, of his ma-
jesty’s --—- dragoons. A Did you come from above 1'" '
. “ 0:3,”, replipd the stranger, who did not seem disposed to '
the communicative. - ' - r . ~ '

 

 

  

THE STRANGE!»

“ How did you find the country ‘2"

“ Beyerer dealt by," replied the stranger. “I saw once
happy homes in ruins. I saw where peaceful hamlets once
stood, only solitary chimneys and blackened walls. It is no
pleasant thing to ride through the Northern districts.”

“ These Whigs have done great wrong to the Carolinas,”-
said the oflicer. “It is their fault. If property ‘is burned in
the North, it is because the inhabitants have given aid and com-
fort to rebels.”

“ And that isltheir punishment? It is rather hard to bear.
Understand meI sir. I am a Carolinian, not adopted, but
born on the soil. I am proud of this country. I believe in
its future greatness, and it ofl‘ends me to the soul to see these
things go on.”

“ Why do not these rebels yield, then 1‘”

“ Who knows ?” said the stranger, bitterly. “ I have heard
them argue thus: ‘ This is too great a country to bend under
the yoke of any foreign power whatever. We have resources
within ourselves, so great that we need not depend upon .the
mother country for subsistencc.’ These men will say to you,
‘ Can England show an expanse of territory like ours? Such
rivers; such lakes, such vast resources in forest and field?
Then why should we be subject to her i" These are their argu-
ments. You of course know how wrong they are. Any

- Englishman knows that.”

“ It seems strange to me that any young man of spirit
should not have taken sides either in one way or the other
before this time,” said Darnier. -

.“ Perhaps I have no spirit,” said the stranger. “It does
not matter.”

“Allow me to ask your name."

“Certainly. Charles Surrey.”

“ Where do you reside?”

“ I am a Chesterfield man, and am riding to Charleston.
What is the likelihood of peace ?" -

“ Very good. I hope before the summer ends to see at least
the Southern colonies subjected.” '

“That word sounds strangely to me,” said Surrey. “ Sub-
jected! . Then you think the Northern colonies will succeed

hastehfishingthemselves?” - . 

 

  

14 THE ovum 13mm
“Yes. Their obstinate, bull-headed tenacity has met its
reward. I am afraid they are safe from us. It was a satis-
faction to give one of their heroes 3 drubbing here.”

“ Gates, you mean."

u Yes)?

“ An overrated man. It was more the result of good con-
duct on the part of his Generals than his own merit, which
forced the surrender of Burgoyne. Which way do you go ‘P”

“ I am traveling in search of a scoundrel who is giving us
Infinite trouble—one of these Will-o’-the-wisp riders of the
South. His name is Conyers. That is, afler I have taken
this train to its destination.”

“ I have heardof Oonyers."

“ He has at small force—I would not undertake to say how
many—end with these he made a dash at a. convoy the other
day, cut them to pieces nnd captured the train—eight wagons
loaded with the very articles we most need. It is shameful.
Why, he took among other things about one hundred sabers
for my troop. I will have revenge, if only for that. By the
way, you are a loyalist, I suppose.”

“ I suppose so," said the young man. “ If I were not I
hardly think I would be apt to trust myself in the hands of
Major Dernier.” .

The major smiled grimly.

“ I am not the best man in the world to beat enmity with,"
he said. “ I was going to ask you 2:. question. Do you
know any thing of this blacksmith? He is the most impu-
dent scoundrel I ever saw. Is he a. Whig ?”

“‘I 'know but very little of the man,” replied Surrey.
“ Having merely employed him at times when passing through
Camden, I could hardly be expected to know him Very well.
He is noted for his immense strength, I have heard.”

“ He looks it fully,” suid Dnrnier. “ I would give a large
amount to have him in my troop. I believe the fellow could
handle a broadsword well.” A

“ No, doubt he could,” said the other, turning aside his head.
“ He has broad shoulders enough. ' He has the drollest Irishman
for an assistant you ever saw. 'A perfect specimen of his race.”

“I thought». His brogue is peculiarly rich. But what
In acquisition Matthews would be to a. troop 01: hone."

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mom Action. 18

“ He would indeed."

“My blacksmith loses me more horses in a year than his
head is worth. I would hang him with pleasure if this Mat-
thews would consent to join me. We are having hard service
here. What lady is that, I wonder ?"

“ I have not the pleasure of her acquaintance,” replied the
other, ii‘owning.

“She certainly rides well. I will say for your Carolina
ladies that they are excellent equestriennes. This one has an
«use and grace in the saddle which-- Where the devil has
he gone?”

The stranger had placed one hand upon the rail of the ve-
randa and bounded into the street. Looking that way, Dar-
nier saw the reason. Some of his younger officers, who had'
been drinking freely, had barred the way of the lady who had
passed them while on the veranda, and were accosting her
with drunken familiarity. She paused irrcsolntely and drew
rein. The boldest of the half-drunken party laid his hand
upon the bridle and detained her.

“ ’Scuse me, miss," he said. “This is er king’s highway.~
Anybody knows er king’s highway is er—king‘s highway, of
course. Why don’t you say something, Bilton. Don’t ye see
I’m stuck 1’"

“Take your hand from the bridle,” said the lady, in a clear, '
ringing tone. “ Fool l"

“ Eh ?” said the officer. “ Fooll You heard her, Tracy;
so did you, Bilton. Take note of it. She called me a fool.”

“ She—she’s a female of discernment," stuttered Bilton.
“She knew Curry in a moment. Oh, good gracious, don’t
bother. woman. Take away that vail. That’s what we want.

-You may he a disguised rebel.”

The lady tore away her vail with an angry gesture and
flung it on the ground. At the same moment a light figure
bounded to the side of her horse, and the concussion of two
heavy bodies immediately followed. These bodies were those
of Bilton and Curry, who had dropped under two heavy blown
delivered by youngSurrey. Having done this, he drew hi. .
sword, and placing himself in front of the lady, said, coolly:
“  next 1'" . ‘

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THE SWAMP mm

CHAPTER II.
MAUD CARROLL.

THERE was a moment’s pause, for there was something in
the attitude of Surrey which showed that he was not a man
to be trifled with. His dark eyes glenmed with passion, and '
he clutched his sword-hilt in a convulsive grasp, like one pre- ‘ I
pared forthe worst. Bilton and Curry rose completely sobered
—--one with the blood trickling from his forehead, between the
eyes, and the other with a large black lump beginning to deo f
velop itself, directly behind the ear. Both drew-l theirI
swords and attacked Surrey. But he stood like a rock, ward-
ing off their thrusts with the ease and grace of a practiced
swordsman, and calling out to the others to interfere.

“Down with the rebel dog !” roared Curry, who had suf-
fered most in the encounter. “I will make him ask pardon
on his knees.”

They assailed him again, while the major came up slowly
with a smile upon his face, evidently in no hurry to interfere.‘

“ I warn you,” said Surrey, parrying a thrust in tierce from
the blade of Bilton, “one of you will be hurt. You had
better take refuge in the smithy, miss.”

She did not move, and it close combat began. In a mo-
ment Bilton had lost his sword, and was slightly Wounded in
the sword-arm below the elbow, while Currvaus oven-matched.
He shouted to the others to come to his aid, and forgetting all
ideas of honor, two more threw themselves forward, sword in
hand. The lady uttered a scream of terror, as she saw young
Surrey overmatched. But he drew a long-bladed knife from ‘
'his bosom, and holding it in his left hand, used it. to parry
some of the thrusts he received. But it could not last long at
such odds, and he was giving way, when a. great shout was
heard, and the blacksmith rushed out of the smlthy, followed
try-the Irishman, each carrying a heavy sledge in his hand.
They broke through the crowd and gained the side of young
Surrey, enwuraged by the citizens who had assembled, some ,

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THE men or sum. , M

of whom were already drawing their swords. The major saw

that his time had come, and he sprung forward. Matthews V

had just leveled a blow at Curry which would have crushed

his skull if he had not interposed his sword-blade. As it was,

the weapon was broken in his hand, and he was stretched,

breathless and bleeding, on the sod. It was at this moment
-. that Darnier sprung between, and cried out to them to pause.

“ What is the meaning of this?" he cried. “ Are you all
mad 1’"

“ You are somewhat tardy in your interference, Major Dar-
nier," said Surrey, lowering his blade. “Soul of my body,
man, do you think I will stand by and see a lady insulted by
your drunken officers i’"

“Drunken i” roared Bilton. »

“Be silent, fool,” replied Surrey. “If you had not been
drunk I would have killed you. What? Are we sunk so
low that our ladies can be assailed by such things as these, in

open day? Do you wonder that the colonies have rebelled t"

“ You are somewhat hasty, sir,” said Darnier. “ I will at-
tend to my officers. To your quartets, gentlemen. Death of
my life, it is such things as this which go to prolong the re-
bellion. Your conduct shall be reported at head-quarters, and
if you do not lose your commissions, I am much mistaken.
Excuse me, miss. I hope you are not injured."

“ Not. in the slightest degree," she said, coldly, turning her
face toward him. “ I will trouble you no longer.” ,

It was a beautiful face. a little browned by exposure to the
Southern sun, but faultless in its contour. Her hair, which
curled in profusion, was suffered to drop upon her shoulders
in rich masses, shrouding her body like a mantle. Her face,
now flushed with excitement, looked more beautiful than eVer.
Having seen that face, the major had a better excusefor be-
ing indignant. .

“ Take up Lieutenant Curry,” said he, addressing some of
the men. “I hope he is dead. He richly deserves it, and
Matthews shall not be punished.” ~

“ That‘s kind, any way,” said the blacksmith, with a snort
of defiance. “ If you think any man, be he lieutenant or Gin-
erai. can insult any of our ladies about here, especially, Miss
,Iaud,then you are mistaken. That I tell you plains -N.o

Y

 

    
 

    

  

II 'rrxu swsmr moans.

nonsense, now. Do any more of you wautany thing! If
ye do I can accommodate you. Come; try it on.”

Nobody moved.

“ Sorra take the day," howled Dan. f‘ An’ ain't I going to ,
get a lick in somewhere? Arrah, musha, to the divil wid the
luck I Don’t you want a taste, misther man? Nor you; nor
you? Bad ’cess til ye, an’ til the likes av ye, thin. It‘s little
good’s to be got out av a lot av half-hearted bla’g’ards. It's
yersilfs is that same. Whoo i I’m the b’y for a fight." ,

“Oh, shet up, Dan Maloney. Don’t talk so much. I’m
glad they ain’t hurt ye, Miss Maud,” cried Blacksmith Tom.
“ If they had, why, Lord love your heart alive, I wouldn’t
have left. a grease-spot of ’em. No, I wouldn’t.”

"‘ Allow me to apologize, as far as a more apology can go,
for the inexcusable conduct of my officers,” said Darnier.
‘4 Believe me, no one can regret more sincerely than I do, the

. fact that such an outrage has been committed by any mem-
ber of my troop.”

" It is not necessary to multiply words about it, Major Dar-
niet'," said Charles Surrey. “I ant ashtuned to think that
such men hold commissions in your service. You and I un-
derstand it. Not one among you but would make it a quar-
rel to the death if a like insult were offered to an English-
lady in any of the towns in which you are quartered. You
kink us such contemptible creatures that we will tamer sub-
unit to any outrage; but, by heaven, we will not."

“ You are excited, Mr. Surrey, and for that. reason I will
overlook your intemperate language. But, let us have no
more of the same sort.”

The blacksmith touched the young man on the arm and
whiSpered in his ear. He nodded in reply, and turned to the
lady, who was trying to get her horse out of the press.
“ Make a way for the lady,” said he. Dan and the blacksmith t
at once advanced with their hammers, and the crowd fell back
before them and the lady rode on. Charles Surrey walked
by the side of her horse until she was quite out of the crowd,
and then paused.

"‘ Have you far to go ?” he said. “ Are you quite sure you

will not fear to ride on now ?” _ I .
V“No, thank‘you. Let me take this opportunity of saying

 

 

    

a sum or suarnxsn. I.“

to you that I am sinceme grateful for your manly conduct,
and hope some day to be able to thank you as you deserve.
May I know your name ?"

“ A moment. Walk on a little further. Have you a pen
oil? I am called Charles Surrey here. Are you a Whig ?"

“ Heart and soul.”

“That accounts for this outrage. Let me meet one of those
fellows in a proper place, and I will give him well-deserved
punishment. We are coming to a sad pass if such things can i
be done with impunity. Have you a pencil 2”

She had one hanging at her girdle, which she took off and
handed to him. He wrote a few words upon a small piece
of paper and handed it to her. She gave a violent start as
she saw what was written, and a quick flush mounted into
her beautiful face.

“ Is it. possible 2" she said. “ How dam‘ you come here 1'"

“011, as to that, I am not Well known in Camden,” he
replied. “ Only three men know my real character and mis-
sion, and you might burn them with hot irons, place them on
the rack, torture them in any and evory conceivable way, and
they would not reveal what they know. I think we had bet-
ter part here.”

' “ Not until I have thanked you," she said, softly.

His face flushed.

“ We have come upon strange times indeed if we of Car-
olina will refuse to strike a blow for the safety of our wo-
men. Msy my arm be palsied when that day comes to
me."

“ Hear, hear 1" said Blacksmith Tom, who was following.
“ That’s the talk.” '

“ Sure, an’ he‘s a. h’y afther me own heart.” said Dan.
“Let's be goin' back, masther. There’s many a shoe to be
set afore mornin'. We’ll have to work all night."

’ “ Stay." said the lady. “ I have not thanked you." -‘

“You try it on if you dare, Miss Maud, and see what will
come of it.” ' '

" It won’t do," said Dan. “ Sure, au’ don‘t ye know it's
the delight an’ glory av an Irishman to get intil a fight ? AV
ye don’t'know it, I’ll tell it til ye now. I’m sp‘llin’ fora row. '
Thieves a small bitteen av a one; maybe hy-an-by'wv on

 
 

   
 

20 m: swam mans.

get up a betther. Good-night, Miss Maud. Good-night, yet
’aan. Come along, masther dear.”

Blacksmith Tom bade them good-by, and heaving up the
heavy sledge to his shoulder, walked away with his assistant.
Charles was left with the lady upon the highway.

“ You see yonder white house, just visible through the trees,

upon the hill ?” said she. “ That is my residence. My name
is Maud Carroll, and my father is an old resident of this dis-
trict."

,“ Judge Carroll?" he asked.

“ The same. Do you know him ?"

“I wonder how many in this section do not know him?
I have seen him in court a number of times. I did not tell
you that the law is my profession. Let me ask a. favor of
you. Do not mention my name to your father."

“I.could hardly do that if I would,” she said. “My fa-
ther is in Europe, and is compelled to stay there the 'remnin-
der of the year. I am truly sorry that he can not be here to
thank you. . Do you stay long in Camden i”

“It is impossible to say."

“But you must find time to call upon us. Remember that
the house is open to you at any time. though it seems to me,
considering the danger you are in, you ought not to stay longer
in the village than you can help.”

“ I shall try to see you before I go." he said. “ As for dam
ger, we can find it anywhere, but I think the cause in which
I am engaged the worthiest in which a man ever drew
sword.”

' . “It is, indeed," she said. “ We part here, then. Can you
not call to—night ?”

“ I am sorry to say that it will be impossible. I will find
work enough for to-night."

‘ I‘ Then to—morrow be it. It is a sad thing that the uphold-
ers of such a cause must do their work in darkness.”

“They will soon do it in the broad blaze of day,” he said,
proudly. “ I give you good-day.”

They ported, and he walked moodin back toward the vil~
loge. On the way they were met by Bilton, one of the ofi«

‘osrs he had knocked down. Bilton was aheevy,.dark-browed
Inflow, with a look of, malice in his face, which made it hide-

    

maul—«mun.-

50

a oowaan srumum. at

one. The natural ugliness of his countenance was not beau- -

tified by the mark which Surrey’s list had
head.

“ You think you have done well, my line lad," he said.
“ N 0 man ever insulted Walter Bilton yet, who was not, in one
way or another, made to repent it. Now, listen to me. For
some reason or other the major will not overlook this little
afl‘uir. He was not wont to be so squeamish. I come to warn
you that, in case I am broken of my commission, I will kill
you"

“Thank you," said Surrey. “ Now get out of my way.”

“Not so fast, my lad. I came out to talk to you, and I
mean to do it. I have my eye on you, and I say you are a
suspicious man. You are a soldier, at all events. No man
ever handled a sword as you do who was not used to it."

“ You do me great honor. What do you deduce from this
fact i’”

“ Simply that you are not what you seem.”

“ That is strange. Allow me to pass on. Death, man!
get out of my way I" ' '

“If, as I say, I lose my commission (hr this act, I will dog
you night and day until I have your life. Be warned in time,
and say a good word for me to the major."

“ If you come within reach of my arm while I stay in
Camden, I will horsewhip you as sure as my name is
Surrey." ,

left upon his fore’

‘—

Thrusting the man rudely aside, Surrey passed him and~

again entered the village.
knots, and all were eagerly discussing the afi'air. 'I‘he ringing
sound of hammers in the smithy warned the young man that
Blacksmith Tom was still at work, and he entered. Tom
stopped as he saw who had come in,and smeared his bare arm
across his brow to wipe 03‘ the perspiration, while he greeted
Surrey with a nod. y

“ Is that fellow you knocked down, dead?” said Surrey.

“Far from it," said Tom. “More’s the pity. -It’s secfi
chaps as them that make our burdens heavier. They’re nat':
ral born Englishmen, them two. Now listen to me: there's
yo good many English that’s good men. I know it, for I’ve
workedior'em. It stands to reason. Weareof the 

The crowd had broken up into

 

 
 

    

ll. rm swam mm.

blood. But, that ain‘t it; the good don’t balance the bed.
That’s wlmr the shoe pinches.” *

“ Now look til me,” said Dan. “I was born an’ brid unther
the government av Great Britain, an’ phat I any is, the divil
fly away wid ’em, King Jurge an’ all. It’s poor ould Ireland
that always gets the Worst uv it. Look out til that party av
(lmgoons. Who are the most av thim? Irish! An’ d’ye
think thim cl-mps care to fight ag‘in’ the Continentnls? The
divil a. bit. Look til me ag’in. Av they was to get intil a
tight now, this minnit, they’d fight the best they know how.
An’ phy? Beca‘se an Irishman likes to be thrue til his colors.

\ That's the r’ason av it. Thrue blood will tell. They’ve lived
nn’ fought so long unther the red cross, that they don’t know
any other. An’ yit it’s a hard cross til them."

, “ You are right, Dan,” said the blacksmith. “But don’t
blurt it out so loud. Who knows but some of ’em are crawlin’
around the house? It wouldn’t trike much to bring ’em on
us after to-night‘s work. It’s got to come soon."

t “On the whole, I hope this scoundrel will not die," said
the young man. “ It might get you into trouble, and if the
reports I hear of you are true, we need you here."

“ What d’ye mean ?”

Surrey came close to him and whispered. The face of
Blacksmith Tom lighted up wonderfully, and he grasped the
band of the speaker fervently.

“ Hush, hush !" whispered Surrey. “ Be careful; you will
endanger my snfety.” .

“ I knowed you was comin’," said Tom,“ but I didn't think
to see you so soon. When is it to be l’"

“ Tonight."

“ Where shall I meet you ‘1’"

“Come to the tavern about nine o’clock. Make an excuse
to come to my room, and I will tell you my plan. Above all
things, remember that my name is Surrey.”

The blacksmith gave him a meaning look, and went on
with his work. Surrey returned to the tavern.

 

t

‘ a suspected house.

, Till mun LANDMEDB. 4 38

C H A P T E R I I I .
'rnn mum. AT THE GEORGE.

THERE were two taverns in Camden at this time, situated
upon opposite sides of the street, between whose landlords
there was the usual rivalry in trade, hightencd by the fact that
while one of them was a. firm and consistent loyalist, the other
was more than suspected of being of Whig proclivities. The
George, the hostelrie occupied by the Whig landhord, old Ben
Charming, as he was called, or, more frequently, “Uncle Ben.”
was by far the better hotel, although his custom had dropped
off woefully since the war. Even those who, in secret, held
the same views as Uncle Ben, dared not be seen too much at
But, to-day, on account of the number of
guests in town, both hotels were full to overflowing, and nearly
all the officers, attracted by the neat appearance of the George,
had put up at that inn, much to the anger of the host of the
Queen, on the other side of the street, who stood upon his ve-
randa, muttering curses at his neighbor, and at the bad taste
of the officers, who preferred to quarter with a “ d—d Whig,"
in preference to staying with a good loyalist. I

As Charles ascended the steps of the George, he became
satisfied that he was the object of close scrutiny on the part
of a group of officers, who were seated at one end of the ve~
randa. Giving them a single quick glance, he discovered that
most of them had been in the drunken party ,who had insulted
Maud Carroll that evening. He sat down upon a settle near
the door, playing with the tassel of his sword-belt, and watch-
ing the movements of the dregoons, who were roaming vaguely
up and down, evidently desirous of doing mischief somewhere,
but at a loss how to begin. Charles Surrey kept his eye on
them, and without appearing to do so, maintained a strict
watch upon the movements of theofllcers on the veranda.
The landlord brought him a glass of wine, and whispered to "

, him that he had better go into the house, as he did not like

the look of the young red-coats on the veranda.

 

  

be , rim swam was.

“Do you think I fear them, Uncle Ben i‘” said the young
man, in the same tone. “ Not Il I was not trained in that
way.”

“ No excuse for being foolhardy, boy. If you were to lose
your life in an afl‘ray with these fellows—~”

“Then ‘Harry Hotspur is cold,’ Uncle Ben," replied the
young man,laughingly. “Go in, go in,niy old friend. Trust
ine to get well out of this.”

Uncle Ben shook his head, and went into the house, muto
tering to himself. Charles remained in the same position, in-
dolently sipping his wine. Shortly after, the party of oflicers
was joined by Bilton. They evidently had Leen waiting for
him, for directly upon his arrival, an insolent conversation
began to pass about the circle.

“I tell you,” said Bilton, “ that I never saw a woman in
this country but was secretly pleased when any notice was
taken of her by a British oflicer. It is no more than just.
They have been used to being squired about by these country
bumpkins, and when they see an ofiieer, in a neat uniform,
they can’t resist.”

" To be sure,” said another. “ Such fellows as they are, too!
Great, hulking, hob-nailed boors, it really is a shame that such '
creatures should be permitted to exist outside of a menial’s
place. And some of their women are undeniably good-look-
ing; upon my word, they are. I know a good many in
Charleston who are positively lovely. Look at the Herveys.
Did you ever see the equal of Moll ‘2”

“ Not until to-dny,” said Bilton. “ This girl about whom

' we had this row to-dey was far ahead of her, and I really
meant to take some notice of her; I did, indeed."

Charles rose slowly and walked toward the party. There
was a suppressed devil in his eye, which boded no good to
the insolent ruflian, who evidently had talked with the inten~ ‘-

, tion of drawing him out as much as possible. .

“ I made a remark to you a few minutes ago," said Surrey,
quietly. " Let me remind you of it. I told you I should
horsewhip you if you came in my way. I will keep my word
to the letter." »

v One of the young officers held a heavy riding-whip in his
hand. Snatehing it suddenly,‘the young men seized Bilton

     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
     

It: so one. 85

by the collar, and holding him in a vice-like grasp, ruined a
succession of heavy blows upon him. The castigation was
as terrible as even this scoundrel merited, and when he had
completed it, Surrey threw him off by a quick movement, and
drew his sword. Bilton fell heavily to the floor, and lay
groaning.

Over his prostrate body, mad with rage at his treatment of
their companion, rushed the young ofiicers. Surrey made a .
sudden spring, and got his back so near the wall that while
his elbow had free play they could not get behind him. The
lights from the open doors and windows made it easy to see,
and the sharp clash of steel, for the second time that day,
woke the echoes of the little street.

His defense was beautiful. You could hardly see his wrist
move, but yet, as the keen point swept from side to side, it
- formed a perfect guard against the three blades bent against

him ; for the veranda. was not wide enough to allow more than
that number to attack him at once. Iiis pliant wrist, strong
as steel, did all the work. Two of the assailants were already
wounded, and had fallen back, and yet Charles Surrey sto‘od
firm.

“ Come on, there, the pack of youl Cowards all, is not
six to one enough for you? You scoundrels, I will teach you
how to fence."

“Cut him down 1” hissed Bilton. “ Why do you let him
live ‘3” t

“ Hold on i" said a steady voice.

They turned to the window. Uncle Ben stood there, his

. gray hair floating back in the evening breeze, holding a gun
to his shoulder.

“ Now listen to me, men. I am an old man, and I ain’t
likely to time much more time to live; but I’ll live longer
than the man who strikes the next blow. This is my houss1
and as sure as my name is Uncle Ben‘ Charming, just so sure
I’ll shoot the first man who litts a hand.” I

They knew that he meant it, and began to parlcy. But he
cut them short. '

“ You put. up your swords, I say. You ought to be ashamed
of yourselves. Six to one! That ain’t. fair.” .

‘“ I’ll have his blood yet,” said Bilton.

s

 

38 'rrn: swutr nmms.

“ You must call him out,” said one of the others.
is no other way.

“There
If you do not, to Coventry you go."
“I can’t fight him,” said Bil;on. “ He is more than a
match for me." ‘
“I seek no unfair advantage," said the young American,
“ and to give Lieutenant Bilton the choice of weapons, as he

seems to desire it, I chalenge him. If he does not accept,
I call upon you all to post. him through the British army as
a coward of the first water. -What do you say ?”

“ I accept," cried Bilton, eagerly. “ I refer you to Captain
Luther.” ‘

“ I must find a second," said the other.
time, here he comes.”

It was Blacksmith Tom who hurried up the steps. He
held in each hand a heavy horseman’s pistol, and was, as usual,
closely followed by his henchman, Dan Malony. They had
heard of the fray while at work, and had left every thing to
hurry down to see about it. They at once threw themselves
between the group of officers and the young American.

“ Have they hurt you, Mr. Surrey?” cried the blacksmith.
“If they have, say the Word, and I will shoot the one that
did it.”

“No narm is done, Tom,” said Surrey. “I have horse-
whipped our worthy friend Billon, and a challenge is the con-
sequence. You will go aside with Captain Luther and make
the arrangements. I only stipulate that it shall come 01!
to-morrow morning, and not before. I have had enough of
sword-play for one day.”

“ Don’t you believe he means to try you with the sword,"
said the blacksmith. “ Far from it; he knows better. Now,
Captain Luther.”

An officer who had taken no part in the fray, turned at the
word.

“ I’ refuse to act,” he said.

“ And why?” said Bilton, biting his lip.

“ Because I should have no confidence in my principal.
He might show the white feather at the moment‘ of joining
issue. Find some other person, I beg.”

“ And in good

"I will call upon you to answer this, Cantaiu Luther,”
hissed Bilton ' ' -

  

    

A camera. 27

“At any time and place you may see fit to call upon me, I ‘
shall be quite at your service in that respect," said Luther,
with a look of scorn. “I tell you all, young men, you are
disgracing yourselves and the service. In the first place, you
insulted a lady, and this gentleman took her part, as any gen-
tleman should do. In this instance I heard you direct inso-
j lent reflections at the ladies of this country and the gentlemen
-—mind, I say gentlemen—of this country. Who can blame
him for taking the measures he did to stop it 1’”

.“ Sir,” said Charles, advancing, “ will you allow me to shake
you by the hand, and express a hope that we may become
better acquainted ?”

“ I am proud to do so. I am Captain William Luther, of
the dragoons. I shall be happy to meet you at any
time." ‘

Several of the young fellows who had acted without thought,
began to wish that they had not followed the lead of Bilton
, in the afl'air.

“ We’ve got into the scrape together,” said one reckless en-
sign, “ and I’ll see you through it, Bilton. Come, blacksmith,
let us arrange the afl'air."

They walked aside, conversed for a moment, and came back.
‘ “ I‘ll go to your room and talk it over with you," said Tom.

“ It is all arranged. Come along, Dan. I want you.”
They went up together, and Tom barred the door. This
, done, he sat down on the edge of the bed, and looked at
Charles with a glance of mingled anger and pride.

“ You will go and mix yourself up with free rights, in spite
of all I can do, Charley. If I was to serve you right, do you
know what I would do ?”

H No.”

“ I‘d take an’ give you a butt right under the ear. If any
man ever desarvcd it, you do. It would just sarve you right.
Here you’ve been and mixed yourself up with a duel. What
ball had you to go and fight six or eight men ‘1’”

" If ycu had heard their insults, directed at the country we
love so well, you would have blamed me for not drawing
Iword. I am not a quarrelsome man .by nature, Tom, but
‘ 'these fellows are more insolept than any class of men I ever

law in my life They think they havens down, and“.

 

 

    

96 ‘ m SWAMP amass
afford to insult us as much as they like.
and see it done."

“I s’pose they did provoke you, young ‘un," said the other,

I will not stand by

reflectively. It’s in ’em to do it. Well, we have made this
arrangement. You fight tomorrow at sunrise. Bclore that

time, I take it, you will have made a change in affairs in Cam-
den.”

“ I hope so.”

“How you can afford to risk your life in a duel, I can’t
see,” said the blacksmith. “If you should he killed, what a
loss it would be i"

“ If I must tell you the truth about the affair, I do not
think the fellow will fight. I may not be right in my estimate
of him, but I think him a consummate coward.”

“ That may be true,” said the blacksmith. “But you must
take a number of things into consideration, and you will see
that it is absolutely forced upon him. In the first place, you
have knocked him down once and horsewhipped him to-night.
You have given up your right to the choice of weapons by
challenging him, after giving him the right to challenge you.
That was a foolish move. They would have forced him to
challenge you—hhe must have done it or lett the army—and
you could have run him through the body quietly, and so
made an end of him."

“ I want no advantage over the fellow," said Surrey.
will take my chances.”

“ A willful man must have his way," said the other, quietly.
“Now that the matter is decided on. we come to our own
business. A curse upon these red-coats! How they swarm
over this fair land of ours! I hear this Rhode Island black-
smith is making a good General.”

“ He certainly is. I never thought it of him. Do you
know that a man who is skillful in retreat is nearly as good
as a man who is skillful in battle? Greene saves his men.

He retreats, to be sure. But helhas his face to the enemy.
Ah, if he had led us at the Camden fight, it might have beer

“I

difl‘erent." . - ‘

“ I wasn’t there, you know. Ha-ha! If these fellows be-
low knew who and what you really are, and what I have done,
lbw quickly they would prepare the cord and find, a tree.”_

    

nun-.14....

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‘-

m mums worm. ‘ 0».

“It's a fine pair ye are, any way,” said Dan, who had said
nothing up to this point. “ Wouldn’t ye“ look illegant in-
tirely hangiu’ on a limb, wid a fine rope about yer necks i”

“ And with you on the next branch, Dan. We are in the
same boat,” said Tom.

“ Troth an’ ye may well say that,” said Dan. “ Don’t stay
talking. Some men may be listening at the dure."

“You have decided to gather the men to-night, Charley ?’

7 said Blacksmith Tom.

a Yes.”

“ Where ?”

“ At the old place.”

“Good. Then I may as well set about the work. Dan,
let us go.”

“ A word first, Tom. I know you to be tried and true, and
I need not recommend you to be cautious. You know as
well as I the fate of Kershztw district hangs upon the caution
used in this gathering. There are men who will come out to-
night who have lislters about their necks in the shape of these
aceursed protections. You will whisper the word. ‘caution
and circumspection,’ in the ear of every man.”

“It shall be done, sir,” said the blacksmith, drawing him-
self up. “I will do my duty."

“I know you will, old friend.

“ Yes. He is in the stable.”

“ Good-night for the present.
have in hand.”

Did you shoe my horse i"

Remember the work you

CHAPTER IV.
THE SECRET MEETING.

UPON leaving the George, the two men separated, and
passed front house to house, stopping here and there. Some-
times they met a man in the street, and when they did, they
exchanged a. few hurried words. It will only be necessary to
follow the course of the blacksmith for the present. v App match-
in; a house he rapped, and a man came to the door. , . ‘

\

 

    

TEE SWAMP mm

“ Is that you, James?” said the blacksmith.

“ Ay, ay,” said the man.

“ To-night.”

“ Where i’"

“ The old place.”

"‘ Good.”

It was a notable hot that in every case these exact words
were used. The man closed the door and Tom passed on.
In an hour they had completed their task, and returned to the
smithy. They had no families, and lived in a small building
attached to the forge-room. A grim smile lighted up the face

“ Gannon."
“ When shall it be i"

of the blacksmith as he paused for a moment beside the forge

to get a light for his pipe.

l
“They little think that we are so busy,” he muttered'.‘
“If they did, many a man in Camden might tremble for his l

life. Ah, Dan, it’s a hard work we have before us. Shall we
ever succeed ?”

“I hope so. masther dear,” said Dan. “But, whatever hap-
pens, be sure av wan thing: be it for sorrow or pleasure, for
good or for bad, Dan Maloney stands by ye til the last.”

“ I knew I could trust you, old boy,” said the blacksmith.
“ That’s right. ~ Let us stick by one another, and it will be
hard to beat us. Now come along."

The night was very dark, and they took their course toward
the George. They did not enter at the front, for a number
of oflicers were drinking there, in spite of the lateness of the
hour. Dan left the blacksmith here, and he entered the house
by the hack entrance, and made his way to Surrey’s room.
At his low tap the young man opened the door, giving a mean-
ing glance at his humble friend. The door closed after him,
and they remained for half an hourin close conversation. At
the end of that time they came out together. The house was
new dark, but Tom could have gone over it blindfold. He
took the hand of Surrey and led him to the entrance to the
cellar, which opened from the back hall. Here they were met
by the landlord.

“Be quick," he said; “some of the drunken hounds may
take it into their heads to rumble about the house. Here is
the key. Lock the door after you, so that they can not fol-
low you down. I saw that Bilton sneaking about th

 
   

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passages only a little while ago. He owes you no good
will.”

“I shall wring his neck one of these fine days,” replied
Surrey. “ G0 first, Tom; you know the house better. than
I do.”

“ All right,” said Tom.

He entered, and the young man followed, locking the cellar
door behind him. They had no light, but Tom had been there

so often that he moved to the eastern wall, and, after working

a moment, a. door flew open and showed a. scene only too fa-
miliar in the history of these times of trouble to the struggling
colonies.

The place in which they found themselves was a cellar un-
derneath the inn. Wine-casks blocked up one side of the
room, and rum-puncheons the other. . There was an open
space in the center, and here a sort of platform had been built,
to keep the feet of the occupants from the damp earth which
formed the bottom of the vault. Upon this a rude seat was
placed, which was occupied by one of the men the young
American had met in the street that morning. He relinquished
it as Surrey entered, and the rest of the occupants of the vault
saluted him in military fashion.

“ I am glad to see you, colonel," said the gentleman who had
occupied the chair, “and I gladly give up my place to you.
Gentlemen, friends of liberty, let us hear what this brave young
man, who has fought so nobly to maintain the liberties of his
country and State, has to say to as."

Young Surrey took the chair, and cast a. look of approval
at the intent faces ranged about him. His eye lit up at the
expression he saw upon every one. There was not a man
among them who was not willing to risk all for the much-
loved cause. ~
‘ “ Dear friends,” he said,“ soon to be my companions in bat-
,tle, I am glad to meet you. In appointing this meeting, I
hoped to get the sentiment of all, and know how they stand
in regard to the great question now before us—a question
which calls for the warmest sympathy from all who have a
heart to love their country and to feel for that country's wrongs.
Down-mddw, oppressed, overrun by a hireling soldiery, we.

4._ till 08118816 on, until the coming of a brighter mowing

 

    

a run swnm RIDERS.

The hands which have been bold enough to strike with rude
swords beaten out from mill-saws, will not fulter now. Let
each one do his part, and all will be well.

“My friends, the enemy tells us that we are beaten.
‘ nsy’ to that.
and Singleton are in the field, striking good blows for the

I say
Not while Marion, Pickens, Sumter, Henry,

country. I tell you, every wagon-train cut 03', every Tory
party cut to pieces, is ruin to these villains. Let every man
do his best, and keep the enemy busy while the army recruits,
and then once more to try the issue with sober and bay-
onet.

“ To do this, we must labor for ourselves. Such bands as
this now in your village must not, and shall not, he suffered
to run at large. It is such murauding parties as this that keep
our people under. Some of you saw the insult offered that
lady this morning. I had nerved myself to hear much, but
this was more than I could endure. I nearly betrayed my-
self."

“I believe the major suspects you,” said the blacksmith.
“I have seen him looking at you out of the corner of his eye
in a way that didn‘t suit me. You are too straight in the
shoulders for a civilian, colonel; and then, when two such
swordsman as those officers are beaten by a civilian, it looks
a trifle queer, I reckon.” _

“ You must be careful, colonel,” said the gentleman who had
occupied the chair. “ You must indeed. Think what u. loss

I it would be to the country if you should be taken. You know
these ruflinns too well to suppose that they would grant you
any thing but short shrit‘t and sudden cord.”

“ I know it,” replied the young soldier, briefly. “ Do you
think, Mr. Warren, that I have not counted the cost' well be-
fore I came here? Far from it. I know that my fate, if I
am takeu,will be an ignomiuious death on the scafi‘old. What

of' that ? I shall only share the fate of Hale, that patriot
martyr, around whose name a halo of glory will shine for all.
time. If, as you say, it is the will of God that I shall so die,
far be it from me to cry out against it. No; I will die as I
have lived, bold in the‘cause I have espoused, and to which
I have dedicated the service of my life. ' Enough of this. We
have came here to consult as w the best means of cutting 08

 

 

war 

  

   

 

‘under his ear.

BIL'I‘ON FLOORED.

You have agreed
Mr. War-'

this nest of villains who occupy this place.
to aid me, and I count much upon your assistance.
ren, how many men can you bring into the field ‘9"

“ Forty-two,” replied Mr. Warren, “ if we include Tom and
Dan."

“Very good. I had hardly hoped that you could turn out
so strong. I can muster as many more. With these, and the
fact that our attack will be a complete surprise to them, I have
no doubt as to the result. We have no time to waste, and I ,
give you my orders at once. Let your men leave the village
one by one, some of them to-night, and meet at the island in
the cypress by eight o‘clock to-morrow. I will see to it that
the enemy come to the place where we need them. I have a.
plan formed for that purpose, which I will carry out by the
aid of a friend of mine. God aid us in our enterprise, and
may no man have cause to weep over to-morrow’s work, ex-
cept the enemy. Where are your arms 2‘"

“ Hidden in the cypress," replied Warren. “ A curse upon
these British hounds! they would rob us of our last weapon
if we kept them at home. Go out first, colonel. We go out
by the covered way." \

The door in the wall was opened, and Surrey, followed by
the blacksmith, made his way into the outer cellar. They had
reached the hall, and were about to turn aside into the stair-
Way which led to their room. groping their way in the dark-
ness, when Torn found himself seized by the shoulder, while
the voice of Bilton cried out:

“Halt here! I will know the meaning of all this tramp-
ling about the house at this time of night. Who are
you Y”

The answer was in Blacksmith Tom’s own way. Draw-
ing back his hand, he dealt the anxious inquirer after knowl-
edge a blow under the ear, which sent him spinning to the
earth, stunned and motionless. Then the two separated,Tom_
getting home as soon as he could, and the young partisan
reaching his room. Just as he locked the door, Bilton was
sitting up with a wondering expression on his face, feeling
of a lump which was developing with marvelous rapidity
Blacksmith Tom was not a light hitter, and
mm considerable vim into. the blow. Hilton. did a 

 

   
 

  

u m swan mas.

think proper to make any trouble about the matter, as it might
expose him to ridicule on the part of his friends.

Early in the morning he received a note from Surrey. It
was couched in these words.

“Circumstances beyond my control render it impossible for
me to keep the appointment with you at the hour named. But
fear not but you shall have the satisfaction you have demanded
and to which you have a right, and at an early day. We are
enemies to the death, as I am the enemy of all low and villain-
ous things. When you read this, I shall be gone. You shall
hear from me. CHARLES SURREY."

Upon reading this, Bilton found the landlord, who was in
the tap, dispensing J amaica to some thirsty dragoons on the
point of marching.

“ You had a fellow here last night named Surrey ?” said he.

‘ “A gentleman of that name stopped here,” replied the land-
lord.

“ I said fellow.
now ?”

Don’t repeat my words, sir. Where is he

“I reckon he has gone away about his business,” replied

Uncle Ben.

“You reckon so. What do you know about it i”

“ I know he paid his bill last night and ordered his horse
for five in the morning," replied chle Ben. “I don’t know
where he has gone, so don't bother me.”

“ Don’t be insolent. I believe you to be no better than a
d—d Whig. Look out for yourself, my good host, for, as sure
as we catch you napping, you shall hang as high as we can
get you above the earth. And if I find this cowardly hound
he shall suffer.”

“ Who mout you call a cowardly hound, Lieutenant Bilton f"

“ That young seonndrel who was here yesterday.”

“The same one who licked you? All right; he mustbe a
domed coward. Jest so. What did you say, Sergeant Saw-
yer-——Jamnics? Plenty of sugar and a touch of lemon in it
is the way you take it. Now don’t you bother me, Lieutenant
Bilton. I ain’t got any thing to do with your quarrels, and I
won’t stand to be hlowed about ’em.” I

I “What are you doing here, Lieutenant Biiton ‘1’” said Dar-
niet, coming in at this moment. “ Don’t you hear the bugles !
Gottosoddlesssoonasyoucsn and seeif you canefimtho

 

 

 

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mar. oomor. 86

memory of last night’s work. If you do that, I shall have
nothing to report when we return to Charleston." ‘

Bilton slunk away and placed himself at the head of the
men under his immediate command. Curry was there too,
with a large bandage about his head, where the heavy ham-
mer had fallen. The two looked hard at the smith as they
rode past his door, and both of them registered a vow of ven.
geance against him. But the blacksmith stood in the doorway
leaning on his hammer and watching them with an odd smile.
They tiled on past the door and disappeared. The moment
they were gone the blacksmith threw down his hammer" and
called to Dan to follow.

“ Let them ride on," he cried; “minions of a base and fool-
ish king. There may be something they little dream of be-
tween them and their journey’s end. Bring out the horses,
Dan, and let us be on the way.”

CHAPTER V.
A LION IN 'rmr PATH.

THE train which Major Darnier commanded was an im-
portant one to the army for whose use it was intended. It
consisted not only of arms, but of medicines—something of
which the Americans were sadly deficient. If Sumter and
Marion could have known that this rich prize was passing
[through the country, they would have periled every thing in
order to seize it. Darnier know well enough that their swamp
life was full of aches and pains which only a good medicine-

est could comfort. The major was riding on with a moody
brow, thinking over the events of yesterday. He was troubled
about the young stranger calling himself Charles Surrey,
whom he had intended to question more closely next morning, .
if he had not taken himself off so suddenly. He called to ’
the captain who had refused to act as Bilton’s second in the

journal at the George, who rode close to him at his summons.‘
3 I {you noticed that young fellow who had to: rough trouble

 

   
 

 

N , Tut: swun- moms.

with our officers yesterday, Luther,” he said.
think of him ‘2”

“I thought him a gallant young man, and one who would
make a better dragoon than any in our troop."

“ Oflicers not excepted ?” said Dnrnier, with his light laugh.

“ What did you

"‘ Excepting no one. Who is there in the troop who could
hold five men at bay for nearly three minutes, simply with
sword and dagger, Thut young man is a soldier, and has
fought on many fields.”

“ What makes you think that ?”

Simply because he fights like a man who is accustomed to
it. His eye is everywhere, and his hand is always ready. I
should not be surprised if that young man gave us trouble be-
fore we reach our journey’s en( ."

“No matter for that. Let me once leave these stores in
safetymmd I will give the rebels who have their haunts about
Camden no rest. Your words are but an echo of my own
thoughts. Hal who is that? Sergeants Bailey and Snyder,
ride out and seize yonder specimen of humanity, and bring
him in. I would know whether any of the rebels have
been lurking about here lately."

A few hundred yards to the right they saw a man, mounted
upon a woebegone and sorry-looking mule, making frantic
efforts to get out of their sight. Hearing‘the tramp of the
coming hoofs, as the WW) dragoons designated rushed at him,
he uttered a shrill cry of terror, and belabored his wretched
“beast with all his might. It was of no use, for the strong
horses of the. dragoons soon overtook him, and he was dragged
back to face Darnier. The officers burst out into a laugh,
which extended even to the men, at the figure before

them. A lean, lank, hungry-looking individual, in a.

suit which was by no means titted to his adult limbs. The
legsof his jean pants were so tight, that the flesh seemed
ready to burst them, and so short as to reveal nearly six inches
'of naked limb. His feet were clad in heavy moccasins of
deer-hide. A coonskin cap, with three barred tails hanging
at the side, was placed upon a shockingly tangled and
neglected head of white hair. The face was a study, how-
Wer. It did not look like that of a Southern man, and

 

Daimler could not help thinking that this Was one of those .

  

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irrepressible Yankees, with whom he had fought in the North-
ern colonies. He grinned in a conciliatory Way as he saw
the major, but wore a frightened look after all. I

“Now, my man, what do you run away from us for f”
cried the major. “Speak quickly, if you do not want your
ears shaved off close to your head. Are you a Yankee '2”

“ I guess I be,” said this odd specimen, with a twang which
was irresistibly comic. “Idonno what’n thunder y’u want
tu meddle with me fur. I ain’t hurt nobody. My name is
Jared Skimpole.”

“ What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t y’u see? I was ridin’ along on my mule. Don’t
want tu purchase a mule, du y’u? ’Cause ef y’u du, I’ve
got the all-firedest nicest mule on this side of the Santee.
Now when y’u buy a mule—"

“ Hold on, my friend. Have I said any thing about buy-
ing a mule ?” V

“ Wal, I can’t say y’u did, mister, but y’u look as ef y’u
might by a little r’asonable talk. ‘ Gosh ! what a lot of
wagins y’u hev got. Lots of things to dicker for in them,
I guess. Who wants tu swap jack-knives. Unsight—
unseen ;~ come.” ‘ i

"‘ I think we may as well hung this fellow,” said Darnie'r,
speaking so that the Yankee could hear him, though he turned
his head aside. “ He knows nothing.”

“Thar, now; don’t talk in that way, Gineral, don’t.’ I
ain’t used to it. I was brnng up In avoid the fatal noose.
' Bar the fell dragon’s blightin’ way, an’ shun that lovely
snare.’ Don’t talk about hanging me, Gineral."

“Then let me hear no more nonsense from you.. I have

‘. not stopped you to trade for mules or jack-knives, but to get

some information. You do not wish to be hung, neither do
I wish to hang you. But, as surely as you refuse to answe
my questions, I will string you up to yonder tree." I '
“ Why didn’t y’u say so then ‘2” said the Yankee, in high
wrath. “ Y’u git mad to easy; y’u do, I swow. What (it;
,y’u want me to tell? I’m agreeable tu-any thing.”
' “Have you seen any rebels about here lately ?”
 F Du y’u mean Continentals, Gineral ?”
“fixes; any thing you like.”
.193» 2

 

 
 

  

   
 

8 sn' BWAX'P numns.

“ Wal, I did see a grist of ’em a few hours ago up there by
the river. They jest come out‘n the cypress, the darnedest
lot of critters y’u ever see. I had to larf tu think that men
should dress so darned ridiculous.”

’“ How were they armed ‘2”

“ Same as I be. They all hed two, except one chap that
looked as if he hed one tooken otl’ in a battle."

“ One what ?”

“ Arm. Didn’t you ask me how they was armed 13——
say i”

“ You are the most consummate ass I ever met,” said Dar-
nier. “ I meant to ask you what weapons they had.”

“ Weepons? Why didn’t y’u say so then? Can’t y’u ask
a question straight? They had guns and swords, but not
sech ones as y’u hev. Some guns was long an’ some short,
an’ some had bows and arrers.”

“ How many did you count ?"

“ ’Bont fifty."

“ Which way were they going t"

“ Southerly, ’hout."

“ Did they seem in haste?”

“ No, Gineral. The owdashus critters seemed to take it jest
as easy as if they had a perfect right. I never did see sech
consaited critters in my born days. You’d ’a’ thought, to see
’em ride by, so scrumptious an’ hold, that they didn’t care a.
continental cues for King George. Now that’s what I call
downright itnpidence.”

'“ I will find a way to punish it before many hours go by,"
said Daruier, knitting his brows. “ They shall see that Dar-
nier’s Dragoons are for service, not for sport. The devil take
all, why did they send me upon this boy’s service. Luther,
I will tum aside and put these ragged rascals to flight."

“Not with my counsel, major.” said Captain Luther. “ Un~
derstand me, Ransom. It‘ you order the troop to turn, I shall
go with them, and fight to the bitter end. But I protest
against it, as placing the convoy in peril.”

' “Peril! Bah! I hope you are not afraid of these my
cats.” "

“ You should know William Luther better than that, Ran-
 Damier. I know you do, and but that I know how hot : -

 

 

 

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your blood is, and how quickly you repent a wrong done, 
would resent it. What are your orders ?"

“ Detail Lieutenants Bilton and Curry to take charge of the
sonvoy, with twenty men. The rest follow me."_ -

Low murmurs of pleasure ran through the ranks of the
dragoons, for they were eager to have a. brush with the
Whigs. ‘ , ,

Twenty men were quickly selected, and the wagons drew
together in an open space upon the edge of the cypress swamp.
The rest of the troop faced about, and prepared to follow
Oarnier. -

“Now, my man,” said the major, catching the Yankee by
the collar, “ understand your duty before you start. I am
certain you know where to find these fellows, and I insist upon

your at once lending the way. Make the slightest resistance,
or attempt to escape, and you are a dead man. Give him a
norse, here. I am not going to be retarded by the movements
of such a. mule as that." -

“ Hold on i" hnwled Jared Skimpole, “ I can’t ride a hoes.
2t’s hard enough to ride a mule, dod rot his plctur’.” 3

“I’ll teach you to ride,” said Darnier, seizing him again and
dragging him almost by main strength into the saddle of the
horse brought up by the dragoon. “ Get your feet in the stir.
hips, and don’t dare to full otf, for your life.”

“ Whoo-o—ooh l" howled Jared, grasping the mane of the
horse with both hands, and hanging on with a vice-like grip.
‘ Go’ steady, can’t ye? This ain‘t fair, nohow. Now, Gin-v

'eral, gimme my mule. I kin ride him, but I’m afraid of this
condemned hoss. Who-o-o-oh l” "

Laying his hand upon the hridle of the plunging horse,‘
Oarnier quieted him, and pushing into a brisk trot. led the
troop forward. Jared bounded up and down in the saddle

'with a. most woehegone face, uttering prayers for mercy which
only aroused laughter on the part of the dragoons. After a
While he seemed to get the motion of the horse better, but
was in constant danger of falling. - r v
’ “ I’ll never see that mule ag'in,” he W‘hined. “ This comes ,
"vf! bein’ l'yal to king an' kentry. Bay, Ginernl, can't ye ease
up; little? This shakes up my innards powerful bad; this
dust. I ain’t media it the least bitin the wodd-‘aw‘i’donft .

m YANKEE emu

. .J,‘ .

 

  

“ ff,

’em, how kin I find ’em ?”

' ‘ to him, for at this moment a. voice which rung out like the

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a ran swam: masks.

know as I kin stand it. S’pose them t‘ellers ain’t where I see

“I will find a way to make you find them, my lad,” said
Damien “ How far is it to the place where you saw
them ?"

“ Four miles, mebbe.”

' “ Then lead us directly to the spot."

' “ Jest as you say, Gineral. I hope y’u will find ’em, but
when y’u du, don’t hold onto me any longer. I can‘t fight a
bit, Lord bless ye. I’m a nat’rul coward, I guess, an’ it al-
ways makes me sick at the stomach when I hear them blasted
guns."

“ Keep silent and lead the way. You may run as soon as
you like, after you have showed us the enemy.” ‘

“ All right, Gineral; I’ll do my best to show ’em tn y’u, for
I (in think they’re a little the impudentest set of chaps I ever
did see. They stopped me, y’n know, an’ was goin’ tu lick
me. ’cause I wouldn’t jine ’em. I told ’em I wasn’t a fightin’
character, but it didn‘t seem to make no sort of difi‘erence to
them. They only larfed at me. Turn tn the right."

They left the main road at this point, and turned into a
bridle-path leading toward the river. The men were forced
to fall into double file to pass through. A mile further on
they caught a glimpse of shining water, and knew that the
Santee was at hand. Just then a shrill, clear whistle sounded
through the depths of the forest, as the troop grouped together
for a. moment in a small opening, and a close fire was poured '
in from every side. Many saddles were emptied by the fire,
and the dragoons were thrown into confusion. I
, “Who-o-ohl Darn you, who-o-oh l" roared the Yankee,

{as his horse began to plunge fearfully. It was of no avail, I

l

 

 

 

for the frightened steed turned and bolted into the bushes,
bearing Jared upon his back. There was no time to attend ‘

blast of n bugle, shouted: l
" Prepare to mount! Mount 1" i
’ _ Damier was making frantic attempts to rallylhis men, and i
partially, succeeded, aided by Luther, then the same yoieo

End‘s-mu“

 
   
 

.153.

 

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it

Then came a wild rush of steeds, a fierce battle-cry, and a
body of men, at least equal in number to the dragoons, and
far better mounted, plunged through their haltiformed ranks,
cleaving a bloody lane with their sabers. Foremost among
them, wielding a ponderous blade such as few men could use,
rode Tom Matthews, and by his side the Irishman, Dan Mug
lony. They passed through and wheeled to renew the charge.
By‘this time the remainder of the dragoons had formed, and
being desperate, presented a bold front. Just then the bushes ;
parted, and a man mounted upon a noble black steed, wearing
the uniform of a Continental colonel, rode in between the
combatants. He faced the British troops, and they saw that
it was the man they had known as Charles Surrey, in Cam-
den. ’

“ Surrender l” he cried.
will give you good quarter." .

“Never!” yelled Darnier. “ Charge, my brave lads, and
hew down that young traitor first of all.“

Surrey waved his sword, and his own troop were immedi-
ater in motion, and they met with a terrible shock in the
center of the open space. Then began one of those deadly
hand-to-hand trays which have no place in history, and yet
which did more to drive the enemy from the soil of Carolina
than the pitched battles. Bound to a stake, the British
fought, as only Britons can, nobly and resolutely. ‘ In the midst
of the fray, Darnier and Charles Surrey crossed blades. iBoth
Were practiced swordsmen and had tried their powers in battle,
and neither would yield to the other. The fierce blows of the
young Continental fell like rain, and were skillfully parried. All
around them the work of death was going on. Luther had
gone down under the sweep of Blacksmith Tom's weapon. and
was a prisoner; half the dragoons were on the ground dead or
wounded, and yet the young champions fought on. ,Blaok-
smith Tom, turning back from the encounter with Luther,
rushed to aid his young commander. ,

“ Keep back, Tom," he cried. “ Do' not dare to interfere.”

it"l‘om cast a hasty glance over the field, and saw that the

DENIED INTO an “All.

" You are over-matched, and we

' British were put to flight, and remained near by, watching jlgé

 “ "Keep cool, cunnel," he said. “That’s the true art

 -' of ubefipiay. ' Never-let your angry passions  -

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the eye of your inimy. Steady is the word and you bongo}
him.”

Surrey suddenly backed his horse and then threw him bod.
ily upon the steed of Dsrnier. Down went horse and man,
rolling on the sod. He was entangled in the stirrups,and be-
fore he could t'ree lithelf, Surrey stood over him with up.
lined blade, the nrdor of battle in his eyes. " Surrender or die,"
he hissed. Dttrnier saw that all hope was gone, and yet, en-
tangled as he was, lifted his sword and made a blow at his
enemy. Surrey parricd it with a. laugh and called to Tom
Matthews.

“Come down and hold him, Toni.
major.
with a good grace. Let me take your sword and assist you
in rising." ‘

Darnier threw down his blade with an oath, and Surrey,
assisted by Tom, drugged him from under the horse.

“ So my misgivings of your true calling were too well
founded.” said Darnier, folding his arms. “ You have me at
your mercy. Show me a greater mercy still and cleave me
to the chin.” .

“ You have sufl‘erecl a loss, Major Darnier,” said Surrey.
“But we are not the men to emit over a fallen foe. It is
true that we might follow the example of some of your leaders
and refuse to hear the cry for quarter, but murder is not our
business. it may be some satisfaction to you to know that
you are reputed one of the most humane of the cavalry leaders
of the British army, and while our men execrate the names
of. Tarleton, Cunningham and Huck, they look upon you as a

noble foe, worthy of their steel.” ,
..“ Enough of flattery,” sold Damien “ I am your prisoner,
. but I would sooner lie on the cold bed where so many of
my brave troop are than live to suffer disgrace. I suppose
the wagon train is taken."
I “Not yet,” said Surrey. " There; do you not hear the
Mes? « My iimjor is at them.” .
, A'slngle’volley, followed by it dropping tire, was heard in
mdh'ectionAof the wagons. Then a dead silence reigned,

This is sheer madness,

 Surrey smiled proudly. He hsd'confidenoe/thst the '
mkMnghthewk Woulddoitlelh- ~_ ..,

Why not make a virtue of necessity and surrender ,

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

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' them to the place you know of.

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muons; I.
._ [-39,ng Withers, you will remain and see after the
wwnded. Take charge of all. and two wagons shall be gem;
_you to carry them in. Leave those very badly wounded on
the enemy’s side with Mr. Carter, on the hill yonder. He is a
Tory, and ought to be glad to do something for the cause.
Gentlemen, will you give me your parole of honor not to at-
tempt an escape ?”

Seeing nothing to be gained by refusing, the ofllcers acceded
to the request. Their horses were given them, and the troop
set oil‘ at a. brisk puce toward the place where they had left
the wagons. Half an hour's ride brought them to the spot,
where they found the entire guard prisoners to a little more
than their number of Whigs. Bilton had made very little re-
sistance, as he knew that the odium of the defeat would fall
upon Durnier. Surrey cast one withering look at Hilton and
came forward.

“I have heard that you have insulted me by the title of
coward,” he said. “ There is no better time than this to settle
our difiicnlty. Will you choose your weapons 1’”

“I am a prisoner,” said Bilton. “ You do well to insult
one who can not help himself.”

The young officer who had charge of the troop which capo
tnred the wagons approached and whispered something in the
ear of Surrey. He stnrted violently.

“ Ha! say you so? Then let us start at once, my dear Ned.
You must take charge of the wagons and prisoners, and tako
Withers has ten men with
him now, and you had better take ten more. You may as well
take the wagons us far as you can get them. Stop on the
Way at. the plaice where the ambush was laid, and take up the
Wounded, except those whose recovery is doubtful. Wither.
has instructions wlntt to do with than Gentlemen, you are V
in charge of Captain Edward Langdnn,‘who will treat you as \
bl'aVC men should be treated. Choose your incn, Ned.”

Langdon picked out his men by name, and they fell out of
the line. The rest were in the saddle and preparing to move
When ngdon stopped the colonel. v

‘. “ The person who had charge of the wagons wishes to give
his mole."  . .  -
“Irina to take it. Grant: parole“ an as“ *

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I. wish to give it, but keep him strictly watched. I do not in;
tend to let him escape me, and he shall give me a meeting."

“ You shall repent this, sir,” hissed Bilton. “I am not a
man to hear an insult tamely.”

“All in good time,” cried Surrey. “Fall in, boys.
is more work for us to do before sunset.”

Darnier said nothing, and saw the troops march away in
the direction of the river, while the wagons which he had
been sent to guard were moving in nearly the opposite diree‘
tion. Why did Surrey desert them and march away so hast-
ily, leaving the wagons to take care of themselves? He had
no time to think of it, for Langdon at once secured all the pris-
oners by tying their feet beneath the saddles and their hands
behind them, threw out all useless materials from the wagons,
and followed them to the spot where the battle had taken place.

There

0 H A P T E R V I.
TOM’S BECRUIT.

SURREY had good reason for marching as quickly as he did.
Langdon had picked up a paper informing him that another
convoy, nearly as large as the one they had seized, would
cross the river at nightfall and proceed to a Tory rendezvous

a few miles north of Camden, and that Rawdon would occupy ’
Surrey had taken a sudden fancy to,
the work about Camden, and he was not the first who had:
fallen a victim toa beautiful woman at the first glance of her ‘-

the village that night.

eyes. He had never seen Maud Carroll until that time in
Camden, and then her beauty and courage had touched a heart
before impervious to any thing except the call of country.

. “ This has been a noble werk today,” said Blacksmith Tom.

“ Lord love my heart alive, how the boys will snicker when “
they come out in bran-new shoes, with new sabers and "belts. ‘
It was a Godsend to them. Now of we kin ketph  pallet "

v

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‘f We shall do it,” said Surrey. “ But we .shall need your
help. Come beside me a moment." ,

They rode a little in advance, conversing in low, earnest
tones. At the end of their conference the blacksmith called
Dan Melony, and the two rode away as hard as they could
go, leaving the troop behind. Two hours hard riding brought
them to a small house half hidden in a thick growth of trees,
about three miles from Camden. Tom rode up and rapped
upon the door with the handle of his whip. A young woman
came to the door, who uttered a. pleased cry as she saw them.

“Don’t holler, Mary,” said Tom. “ Let us in. We are on
business.”
“ Yes, Tom, yes,” said the woman, eagerly. “ Come in

quick. You had better tie your horses under the trees, for
the red-coats might come. They are thick enough about hem
now. Did you say Billy was well?”

“Well and hearty, little ‘uu," said the stalwart blacksmith.
“We’ve jest had a scrimmage with Darnier’s drngoons, and
come out first best. I shouldn‘t wonder but your husband moot
happen along before the day is over. Take care of the bosses,
Dan. I’ll go in and be getting ready. Take them deepinto
the woods, now."

Dan hurried away with the animals, and returned as quickly
Is he could. When he entered the house, the woman, who
Was the wife of one of Surrey’s men, had begun to fry some
eggs and bacon. Tom was not to be seen, and Mrs. Conway
pointed to a door which opened into a room at the bucket
the cabin. Dan entered, and in a few moments the two
emerged, dressed in their everyday habiliments, and sat down
10 the table which was set for them. Both did ample justice

‘ to the savory food, and had nearly finished their repsst, when
‘ I the tramp of comingr hool‘s announced new arrivals, and the
’ “'0 Sprung to their feet and hurried into the little room from

,Which they had come a short time before. Mary sprung to
the door and dropped the bar just as a heavy knock sounded
uDon it. She paid no heed to it, but hurriedly removed the
The knocking-was repeated,

U" .."‘ open. in the king’s name.”

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' She‘ saw there four of the fugitives who had fled from the late
encounter with Surrey, whose horses were splashed with the
mud of the swamps through which they had passed in their
flight. The man who was [mocking at the door was a. burly.
huge-bearded fellow, wearing the stripes of n. corporal.

“ Here, woman," he cried, “ why don’t you open the door ?
Deathl do you want us to batter it down? It will be the
Worse for you if we do."

“Oh, I will open it to king's men,” she said, cheerfully“
4‘ How-did I know but it might be Whigs ?”

“That’s right,” said the man, mollified by her apparent
loyalty. “We are hungry an‘l tired, and must. have some-
,thing to eat before we push on.”

Mary opened the door, and the men came trooping in, mut-
tering to each other as they did so. Mary again put the grida
iron into requisition, broiled some of the bacon and fried some
eggs, and these, with a large can of coffee and a pile of pone

. bread,completed the repast. The men stacked their arms just
inside the door, and set ’to work, tooth and nail, eating as only
men can who have ridden fast and for after 2‘. fight.

“ D—n the luck 1” said Corporal Flynn, with his mouth,full
of bacon and egg. “Who would have thought to see the
mundrcls come flying out of the bushes in that way? The
.cursed Yankee, too. I have a notion the scoundrel knew they
were there all the time."

“ Oh no, that can’t be,” said one of the men. “ He was
half scared to death, and had no more idea of their presence
than we had; I could see that. His horse bolted with him,
you know."

“ There is one thing I am certain of, then,” replied Flynn,
,“and that is this: that Camden blacksmith was there with
his man. Let him never come back to his forge while we
stay in his section, if he would save himself from the swing-
_ ing Dough and the heman cord. We will teach these Whigs
, that they can not work on, taking our money and pretending
utovbe friends to our cause, while in reality waiting an oppor- '
. thnityto deal he a blow. I know this rascally blacksmith
. Well, and will never rest until he is mine.” ,_

“He’s desperate impatient.” said Mary. counterfeiting anger 3

.31

 

 

 

 

 

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flaw".

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\ .bfeathed the breath or life.
:IAYer» when we seen ’em,‘ and I s’poee
.. fight with your men.” p ’

 

 

 

 

  

mm mm moon“ 0

the king has a. right to do asbhe pleases about ten and pa'pel'
and such like. Lord bless him. it‘s little tea or paper we use
here in the cypress. llave sumo more con'ee. sergeant. You
don’t mean to tell me, do you, that the pesky vnrmints beat
you?

“ It was a surprise, you see,’ said Corporal Flynn. “A.
Yankee \\ ho was riding by on a mule guided us to the spot.
and we came upon them before we Were aware, and they were
five to one.”

“ Lord sakes! what a sight of rebels they must have in the
swamp. You had nigh a hundred men when you went
by."

“ So we had; so we had,” replied Flynn. “ You are right.
my good woman; but, we think that the whole of Sumter‘u
cavalry were upon us at once."

“ I did hear that Sumter was nigh Hanging Rock. Maybe
he moved since,” said Mary. ~

“ No matter who it was, they must home had the most men.
because no equal number of them could whip Dnrnier’s dra-
goous." ’ ‘

“ To be. sure. That is just what I thought myself, because
your men always look so handsome and stout in their uni«
form, while these swamp suckers, who might be good-looking
men in good clothes. are so ragged and dirty I can’t abide
’em.”

“ That shows good taste upon your part, my good woman,”
laid the corporal. “ On the whole, you may fill my cup
again. 'You say you know this blacksmith of Camden, and
he has been impudent to you ‘2" '

“ More times than you can count, corporal,” said Mary

i“ My husband is away from home, and I’m a lone woman.‘ {I
should he more afraid it the king‘s men did not ride by 110‘?
11nd then.”

“ Thank you.
lately ?” ‘ V
W“ Yesterday morning he rode by with that man of his they
call Dan Melony, the most impident Irishman that evet,

They was holding toward the
they was riding out to \

v

Have you seen any thing of this Matthews

/

  

 

  

If 'rnn swan? RIDERS.

    
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
  
   
  
  
   
    
     
   

- “ No doubt, no 'doubt. Let him look to this, for if I ev'
meet him face to face, he shall go down.”

“ He’s mighty strong, corporal," said Mary.

“That makes no sort of odds to me. I am strong too,
and I could put him on his back; I’m certain of it.”

“ But they do say he's the best man about Camden, and
that even Pete Francis can‘t put him down easy. I’m a friend
to the king, but I don’t think, really and truly, that you could

. put Tom Matthews on his back.”

' “I tell you I can !” roared Flynn, stretching out his arm
\ to show the ridges of his powerful, muscles. “ I’m no
chicken.”

“Perhaps you are stronger than I think you are,” said
Mary; “ but I never saw the man yet could throw Tom Mat-
thews fair.”

“ And if so be you think you can do it, corporal, there is
no time like the present,” said a quiet voice, close at hand.

The four men started up and looked for their guns. What
did they see? Standing just inside the door, each with a
rifle at his shoulder, stood the two men of whom they had
been talking, between them and their arms. Mary uttered a.
terrific scream, and throwing open the back door, ran out of
the house. Flynn would have followed, but the stern voice 3
of the blacksmith recalled him. '

“ Halt, on your life, corporal !" he shouted. “ Another step I
and you are dead! Beware what. you do."

“ I know you, traitorous dog !" roared Flynn. “ The time
will come when you will hang between heaven and earth, a
spectacle for all true men to look at. Once for all, what do
you want. i" '

r “ You ought to know,” said Tom, coolly ; “ your sur- ~
render." , '
m Never 1" l
’“ That’s soon said. Now I mean to have you, living or

dead, and I don't want to kill you. That ain’t any‘ use, as I

see. Give yourselves up like men, when there is :no

chance.” ' ‘ L

, ‘J Flynn looked at him with a fierce glare, and made a step i

. , j Kinda-cc. But the gleam in the eyes of Blacksmith Tout, ,.
lapphd him in his onward course ' '7'  ‘1‘  :’

 

 

 

 

 

summons 1

J'I'm looking through the sights at you," said be, “non
when your boot touches a. certain crack in the floor you are
dead, if you rush at me. We’ve got your guns and setters;-
what is the use of kicking '2” ‘ '

“E can not surrender,” said Flynn; “ we are four to you.
two.

“ You waste time,” said Matthews. “ I am going to count
five. At the last word I will shont you dead if you do not
surrender. You are carrying bull-headed ohstinacy too for,
and I will not endure it, neither have I the time to waste.
One 1"

The face of Flynn began to lose some portion of its color
as that sonorons voice toned out the first word of the count.
He looked at his men and saw that they were already up-
palled by the stern manner of the blacksmith. as they might
well be. A word will explain how this was done. While the
drogoons were feasting in the house, 'l‘om had softly opened
the window of the little room in which they lay concealed,and
Climbing out, gained the front of the house unperceived, fol-
lOWed by Dan. Each had a rifle with him, and, efler listen-
ing a while to the conversation of the dragoons, they had
darted in and seized the arms.

“ See here," said Flynn, “ you shall pay dearly for this.”

“Two l" said Tom, steadily. .

l “ The omcers of my regiment will avenge me if you murder
' lite here.”

“ Your blood upon your own head," said the blacksmith,
Bfernly. “ Three l"

It was beyond human nature to endure this. Flynn MW“
the strong man raise his rifle, and knew that he was doomed.
Throwing up his hands, he cried out, “ I surrender. What

‘are your terms ?” '

 

-r —v -.

l
“Sensible ut the last," said Tom. “ Send your men for-
WArd one at a time to be tied. My man will do the job, and
_ will shoot the first one who makes the slightest show of re-‘4
. sigmnce." i
‘The men came forward one at a time, and Dan Melony
ll bound them with their own belts, talking to them in tho
4

  

 

    

1

“looming, persuasive blarney of which only athoniugh Irish- 't t x
' m in master, while they growlingly submitted to the open!“

 
 

 

 

  

to run swsnp aromas. \

ation. “ Ah, ye (larlint.s,” he would say, “how the divil c'u’d
we help it? Sorra. the day that made me do the like to t
fine lot av b’ys like you. ’Deed, an’ it’s mesilf is sorry for that
same."

“ Shut up,” said Flynn.
stone last?"

‘ “ No matther for that, me fine lad,” said Dan.
know where ye kem from right well.
trirn man, be me sowl.
care I don‘t dhraw the sthraps too tight, a thing I wouldn’t.
do til it counthryman in the world, though how a man born.
un’ brid unther the dirthy tyrannical country av Britain can
fight for her, an’ he an Irishman, is more than I know."

' The work was soon done, and the three privates, bound
hand and foot, stood before them. Then the blacksmith
turned to Corporal Flynn, who had not yet been bound.

“ I heard you saying to this woman, who is feeding the foes
of her kentry, the more to her disgrace, that you would like
to measure strength with Tom Matthews. I always like to
stimulate young men of muscle every way I can. It pleases
me right well when I kin find one of that sort. That’s the
reason you ain’t tied yit. I reckon you've got a consait of
your muscles, and to tell the hull truth, you are a powerful
lad every way. So, for the honor of the kentry,1et’s try a
fall out here on the grass.”

“ Just as you like,” said Corporal Flynn, stretching up his
tail figure. “I‘m not. afraid of you, fight me in what way

. you' will—pistols, swords, or fists. Michael Flynn is your

“When did you kiss the blamey-

It sure I
Ye are a county Any

“ And a right plucky 1nd you are,” said Tom, ad miringly.”

“ You stay here and look arter these men, Dan, while Corporal
Flynn and I walk out here on the grass :1 little; and let it be
understood, ,free and full, that if this Corporal Flynn puts me
on my back, he’s to go free. I won't take no advantage, of
smart."

The two stalwart men walked out together upon the turf,‘
Slut. in front. of the cottage, and stripped ofi‘ their coats, look-v

blateach other keenly as they did so, each with a sort of- .

'mspect for the muscle of the other. As Corporal Flynn had

Hould stiddy, me darlint, an’ take,

ysaid, he was no chicken. He stood nearly six foot high,;.

 

   
  
 

  
 

 

'rnn WRESTLING MA“. 51'

with a corresponding breadth of shoulder, and Tom knew ,
that he had no easy job out out for him. '

“ It's a. pity to me,” said the blacksmith, “that a man 11kg
you should be fightin’ on the side of a. tyrant, ag’in‘ a free
people. It sounds mighty hard." , y

“Look here," said Flynn, “I want to make you an offer. '
I’m no ways in love with the British army, tuld this is the
chance. If you put me down, I’ll join the boys in the '
swamp; if I should put you down. you jOin Darnier’s dra It
goons."

“It‘s a fair offer," said Tom. “ Agreed. Take your hold." ’

’The two men clenched, and for some moments tugged and
strained without any result either way; but only Dan Malony
knew that Blacksmith Tom had not yet shown half his power.
To say the truth, he found his antagonist so skillful in the
tricks of the practiced wrestler, that he did not dare to try his I
own skill fully until he had blown his opponent. The three ,
Englishmen looked on with supercilious filers.

“Can‘t any one throw Mike Flynn, you know," said one ‘
Of them. “He’s the best wrestler in the army. That big
blacksmith is strong. but you can see he hasn’t the science.
That's what tells in wrestling: science. It‘s like your awmy '
fighting our awmy. The science is all on one side.”

“ Phich wan i" said Dam.

“ Our nwmy, of course," said the mun.

“The divil a bit," said Dan. “Phy didn't ye shtand up
better whin the colonel rode at ye the (lay wid his bould b'yl
behth him? Because ye had too much science, I does he
thinkin’. Git away wid your nonsints.” '

“ Mike Flynn will put your big bully down. though," said -’
the drngoon. . ‘

“Not he." said Dan. “ Wait till the man gets wuked up,
He's but slnpin’ now. D’yc hear the bla‘g’nrds talk, ould ‘.
than?" ’

‘ “All right,I hear them,” replied Tom, quietly. “That:
don‘t make any difl'erence with mc.of course." I '1

“‘You play carefully." said Flynn, a little sugry‘u Iii
looked in vain {hr an opening for his favorite trip. “ I thought
you were in a hurry.” ' ~

“ No hurry to,.toin the British army," said the blacksmith.

 

  
    

   

52 ,_ ms: swam, mom

“I think I’d be out of place there. No, man, there is no
power to take me into the ranks of the enemy.
that if you had twice your power, you could not force me into
that. army." ‘

The struggle went on, the blacksmith still upon the defen-
sive. Flynn exhausted every ruse to get him off his guard,

.,.but his efforts were in vain. Tom, with the same immovable
smile upon his lips, kept his feet and temper, and Flynn began
to lose his. From that moment he was lost. Tom changed
his tactics, and began a series of dextrous fcints which Flynn
did not understand, and to which he fell a victim. Mat-

'> thews apparently stumbled, and fell toward his antagonist.

’ He threw himself forward to finish the struggle, but Tom, who
had never lost his balance, met him full and threw him over
his hip upon the 0d, where he lay prostrate, the blood run-

. ning in little rills front his mouth and nostrils. Tom ran to
him, raised his head and administered a sup of brandy, and in
a moment “ Richard was himself again." Flynn rose and ex-
tended his hand to the blacksmith.

" I’m not ashamed to be beaten by a man like you," he

‘ said, “and I’ll keep my word. Count me as one of your
Swamp Rangers."

“Good,” said Tom. “ That job being finished, I will leave
you and Dun to take the prisoners back to the band, while I
do some work on this side. Here, Dan.”

He drew the Irishman aside and whispered something in his
ear. ,Dnn nodded and called to Flynn to come and get the
horses. In five minutes they were in motion, Flynn making

r/ himself useful in watching his late comrades, and evidently
bent upon keeping his word. It. is but common justice to him
 to any that he was a true man, and when Washington charged
'tbe redouth at Yorktown, he had no braver man in the for-
lorn hope than Captain Michael Flynn, late of Darnier’s dra-
goo’ns. Tom looked after them with a smile.
i _“ A geod recruit. and one who will be as good as his word,"

' . .hsimutterea.

whgty’do.”

  

I i

I feel sure,‘

“ Come out here, Mary, and I will tell you

 
   
 

 
       
      
   
      

 
    
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
  

.mw“... .... ......u_.. .... .. _

JAKE ASTONISHED.

;\ . A KL. a

 

CHAPTER VII.
run IDIOT.

MAUD CARROLL had been deeply interested in the young
soldier who had so boldly put himself in danger for a stran- t

, ger’s sake, and had hoped that he would come and visit her

before he left Camden. But. as we have seen, ho was forced
to leavo the place hastily and forego the pleasure of meeting
her. She was a little nettled that he should act so carelessly
toward her after doing her a Service, and as the day went by
and he did not come, she sent a servant to the tavern with a
note to him asking him to come and see her that evening.
The servant came back with the note, and told her that the
gentleman had left the hotel early in the morning, and would
not return. The negro was full of the skirmish in the hush.
a"d the capture of the wagon-train—for some of the fugitive-
hild already returned—and gave his mistress an exaggerated
account of the affray. ,

“ Fo’ dc Lord, missm," he said, “ dcy do say in Camden

\

' (lat de young gemnian what sabe you from dem sojers—blast

deh' impidence—is a Whig. an’ come yer jest to fin' out how
many ob de red-coats was yer. Dat’s w’at dey say. Fo’ my
bressed Marster, I t’ink he somebody more dan common truck,“ ,
IMW you ’membcr dat."

“ Who said that, Jake '2" said Maud, eagerly.

“Sojcr said it; sojcr wid a cut on he face dat he say dot

*b’oung gemman gih him. An' (ley do say dat bracksmit’,'l‘om '

I

Matthew, he was dar fightin’ like de debble. I donno {01‘
sure wedder it true or not, but he gone somewhar. an’ Dan \'
he 80 wid him. Euty you t’ink dey WhigsI missee Y"

“ No matter what I think, Jake. I can. forgive this young
gentleman for not paying me a visit if his reason for it was 
3° 30ml, and he has been doing the country a service. Boil \ '. ‘
“ bruVe man, at any rate. Did you see these dragoons your
“If. Jake!” ' / ‘ ,K

~ “ 13'. misseo; I sec ’01): wid my own eye, Iittln’ on do Ni

 

 

    

  

54 v rm: swm 3mm

randy, will Le darned ole face tied up in a rag; an' surbe him
juss right for to come for to go for to try to lick de Whigs.
Lordyl dey do any dat de way Bracksmit’ Tom mek de fur
fly out oh dein red-couts was a sin to snakes. He powerful
strong, tint Brncksmit’ Tom.”

“ He is n gallant mun, and has done good service before
now. Go hack to the village and pick up all the information
you can, and return when you have it. I think you had bet-
ter wait until more. of the soldiers huve come in, for others must.

‘ have escaped.”

The negro went away, and reéntered the village. As he
neared the tavern he saw quite n crowd gathered about a man
who had just come in from the other side. Joke got into the
crowd to get a view of him, and saw a man whom he did not
know, whose expressionless face and vacant stare proclaimed
him one upon whom the hand of God had been laid—an
idiot. There was no mistaking that expression. He was
ragged and dirty, and many who looked on said what a. noble

t‘rzuue he had, and what at pity so stalwart at man should be,
He was deathly pale, and had painted his face ,

no stricken.
and hands in an uncouth manner. A white sheet was thrown
over his shoulders, and once in a while he would raise his
arms and give himself the appearance of having wings. No
one in the crowd‘ had ever seen him before, though Jake
could not keep down the feeling that somewhere he had seen
that face under ditfereut circumstances. This strange indi-
vidual held in one hand at tin horn, which every now and
then he missed to his lips and blew a sonorous blast.

-“I am the angel Gabriel!“ he shouted. “Behold, I call
all here to repentance. Is it not written in the hook that I
will come and sound my trumpet? The earth is red with
the blood of my saints, and now the time cometh, with blood,
fire, and vapor of smoke, Ye have offended my little ones,
and their blood cries out from the ground. Hear me while
I meek. and take heed of my words, for the time is near at
hand. A voice came to me out of a cloud and sald, ‘ Gabriel,
Hound.’ And behold, I am here; let all men keep silent be-
fore me.” ' ‘ ' I
"A horse-laugh was the only reply trout some of the draw.
 whg   ~ - v ,  .

\

 

 

 

A ¥UGILI§IIO GABRIEL.

“ Some ill-conditioned son of earth laughs at my words. I
look at him and his coat is red, the color of the blood of my
little ones he hath shed. But. a voice says to me that the time
has come, and the hour. The hand of the Lord hnth smitten
the enemy sore, and they have fled away from before my
face.” . V

“ Shut his mouth,” said one of the dragoons; “curse him,
he is more knave than tool.”

“ Keep silent before me,” returned the idiot, “ or before I
leave the place I will strike you at my foot and set my heel
’ upon you. What is your strength to mine? As I passed by
I saw men flying for their lives. Their coats were red, but
their faces were white as milk. Great fear came upon them
all."

A burly dragoon thrust himself forward and faced the
idiot.

“ Look you, my man,” he said, “ we have had enough of
this foolishness, and we will not endure it. If you do not
keep silent I will trounce you.”

“ Listen to the ungodly man and the wine-bibher,” shouted
the idiot. “ How great is his wrath because the words of
truth sound in his ear and he is sore afraid. He would even
lay his hand upon one who speaks only what he hears from
the rocks and trees.”

A murmur was heard among the people, and a sound as of
the wind passing through the trees. If the dragoon had been
a wise man, he would have receded and given it up. But he
was angry, in the first place, at having been one of n beaten
party that morning, and wanted revenge in some way. He
advanced and laid his hand upon the shoulder of the idiot.
Weapons were drawn upon the instant on both sides, when
they saw the idiot raise his powerful figure to its full hight,
towering above the drngoon.

“ My mission is of war," he cried, “ and the ungodly man
rages. Behold, I will strike him a heavy blow between the
eyes, which shall lay him even with the ground."

To the utter surprise of every one, the idiot doubled his fist
and gave the dragoon a buffet which might have felled an ex.
The feuful impetus which a strong man gives a blow at the

moment of delivery is wonderful. and the man went down 

1 ‘ \ \

55 ,

\

 

   
 

56 THE swam moses
quickly as if stricken by u thunderbolt, and lay there, with
his nose beaten out of shape. Some of his companions rushed
forward, but the idiot struck two quick blows, and sent two
others to join their companion upon their mother earth. An
angry buzz succeeded, and pistols and swords were again
drawn. All this time the idiot had nevermoved from his first
position except to strike, but stood astridc of the man first
' knocked down, declztiming wildly.

“The sword of the Lord and of Gideon l” he cried. “As
ye sow, so shall ye also reap. Is it not written, ‘ One jot or
one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law till all be fulfilled?
I am as a lamb among wolvos."

“ A healthy lamb,” muttered a stout Whig near him. “ Good
for you, old man.”

V “ I tell you he shall not go unpunished," shouted the'sol-

dier. “He has insulted king‘s men; and madman or sane,
he shall repent it. Look out what you do here in Camden,
or Rawdon will light. a fire to warm you when he comes.”

“Be that as it may,” said a. Whig,“ it shall not be said that
the people of Camden suffered you to assail an unarmed man,
and he an idiot. Let him alone, and he will not harm you
in the least."

“My mission is one of wrath,” said the idiot.
smite yonder red-clothed soldier, hip and thigh.”

‘ “Come away,” said the Whig. “Don’t be foolish now,
or you may get into trouble. Come to my house.” '

“ Nay; X will wait here until the son of Satan who leads
these evil men to battle appears. Then will I take a sword
in my hand and smite him, as aforetime did the noble men
of yore when they went out against the Philistines.”

"‘ The devil,” said the Whig. “ Will you come with me 2
You will get your neck stretched if you don’t look out.”

“ I will see the man of hlom ,” replied the other, stubbornly.
“ AntI'II will even warn him to flee from the wrath to come.
Perudventure it. may seem just unto thee to aid me in smit-
ing them with the sword.”

“ I will

“confound his stubborn temper,” said the Whig to e'
“ The fellow will surely get himself into trouble. ’

companion.
we allow him to stay here. Hark l" . _. .
Av distant bugle.th was heard, and they saw the idiot

\

  

 

nit

~8n(

urn
Th
ing
not

the
lea

set

“I

tin

 

w

.«n-gfiydoq»wzl}im¥ ‘:  /. . k. ‘ .  :3

. of many feet could be heard.

“lime, or another suffered through him.
.‘moody silence, by the side of Rawdon, looking fiercely at the
. " crowd.
% ,We‘encountered that of the cavalry chief, and its wild gleam V
 wu‘ terrible. '

rm: GRAND summit. I? 7,

raise his head in a listening attitude. The blast was repeated,
and" other martial strains blended with it, told that the British

. army, or a. portion of it, to say the least, was near at hand.

The idiot'laughed wildly, flapped his arms, and blew his horn.
rThe men who had been knocked down rose dizzily, and see- ’
ing the aspect of afi‘airs, began to bluster again. Quite a
number of men interposed between the irate Englishman and
the object of his wrath, who did not seem to fear him in the
least. .
“ Come away, Nick," said one of his comrades. “Don’t
let your wit to a fool's.”
“ No, for it won’t stand the test,” muttered a Whig.
" Rawdon is coming, a black curse upon him. Now for warm
times in Camden 1”
As he spoke, a mounted officer, with forty or fifty dragoons,

‘ dashed into the place at full speed, scattering the people right

and left as he came. He pulled up in front of the tavern, and

: shouted to the people to keep silent.

“Good people of Camden, ye who are loyal to the king,
Lord Rawdon, by the grace of God, and George the Third,
Commancler-in-Chief of the army in this province, is about,
to enter your town. See that you receive him as becomes
his rank and oflice.”

The martial music grew louder and louder, and the tread
All Camden turned out to see,
for a. British army upon the march was a grand sight to bc-
hold,,even though they came as enemies. Horse, foot, and

; artillery, they marched through the town, glittering in uniform,

erect and stately, as England's soldiers always are. The
regiment which marched in front was that famous cavalry

, force, which had gained such a terrible reputation upon ‘the

rivers of Carolina, the troop of Tarleton. Low murmurs
arose on every side, as that dreadful scourge appeared, for
there was hardly a family in this section who had not at one
He rode on in

The idiot had forced his way to the front, and his"

Tarleton noticed! him,a'nd directed the attention .
/ . rs

 

 

:" cs; 53‘ ,‘

 

, II was swun- 'RIDEBE.

“ Send some one to bring him to us when we are encomp
ed," said the Commander-in-Chiet‘. The colonel turned to an
orderly, and sent him on the mission, while they rode on to
the town, where it had been decided to establish head-quarters
for the present. A few feeble cheers for Lord Rawdon were
heard, but they were only raised by Darnier‘s dragoons. Lord
Rau'don frowned darkly.

“ A stiffonecked and rebellions people, whom nothing but
harsh measures will ever be able to overcome, Bannister,"
said he, speaking to Tarleton. “ You alone, of all my otflcers,
seem to understand this fact.” .

“ Wipe them out root and branch, even at the risk of a
reputation for barbarity," said 'l‘urleton. “ That is my motto.
This namby-pamby way will not. work with these fellows.
Grant them protection, and in three months they will be in
the swamps, fighting against us.”

“ Let me catch one who has broken his protection,” growled
Rawdon, “ and God pity him, for I will hang him up for the
crows to peek at, as an example to his companions. Where
is the orderly you sent in search of that odd genius in the
white sheet? Tell them to bring him into the parlor, and
then close the doors. We will have a. little sport at his ex-
pense. Let the army bivouac just outside the town."

With these words, Rawd'on entered the parlor, while
Tarleton stepped back to execute his orders. He returned in
a few moments, accompanied by an orderly, dragging in the
idiot. He shook himself free from the man who held him, and
stood with folded arms staring at the Comnmnder—in-Chief
and his staff.

“ Well, my man, you are an odd specimen," said Rnwdon. ,

“ Who are you i”
“I am Gabriel!” replied the idiot. “I call all here to
repentance." '
“ Umph ; a strange angel you make," said Rawdon, laugh-
ing. '“ Doubtless, however, you will make a better one than
any in this presence. Who is this fellow ?"

“'Stop,” cried the strange being. “ Ask not these men with ‘
I am one who is sent

‘ red costs who I am, forI will speak.
before to warn yeah! the evil days before you, if you keep
an in your sinful and murderous career.

    

  

 

 

 

The blood of many ’

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 Against these I am called, and to these I speak.

,_ tell you.

' who were sadly in need of the stores it contained.
'v more annoying, as Darnier was considered the most acute om-

A roan poor. IO
noble men, shed upon every plain, from South to North, cries
out to the Lord for vengeance. See Tarleton, with his savage
face, glaring at me. See Campbell, Cunningham and the rest.
I am
Gabriel, and I call you all to repentance."

“ He is an idiot,” said Rawdon, “ and is hardly amusing
Send him out.”

“ The turning point has come,” cried the idiot, " and already
these men of blood begin to tremble. Send out and ask the
men what has become of the wagons, and the red-coats who

.guarded them, who marched out of Camden this morning.” ,

“ What do mean ?”

“ I am a poor fool," said the other, his under-jaw dropping, ’
and the vacant expression coming into his face again. “I
don’t know what you ask.”

' “Speak, fool. What of Darnier and the wagon-train? If
you do not tell me. I will have you cut into inch pieces."

“I am a poor fool,” replied the idiot. “The soldiers can
They came back."

“ Go out and see, Bannister." said Rawdon “ My heart
misgives me. If Darnier has suffered himself to be drawn
into a trap,I shall not know whom to trust. Don’t wait.
Bannister."

Tarleton hurried out, and returned in a moment with one‘of

' 'Darnier’e men, who gave an account of the manner in which

they fell a prey to the ambuscade. Rawdon heard him with-
out any attempt to disguise his rage, for this train was of
peculiar importance to the garrison to whom it had been seat,
It was the

cer in the service.
. “ The devil l" roared Rawdon. “ Up, and away, Bannister...
Take these men who have escaped with you, and spare not

' horse-flesh until you run them down. ~When you find them,
' you will know what to do.”

good to the Whigs, if they came in his way.
’ .'manage that.
_ I, Where
.‘ ‘ n. .

“ I think so,” said Tarleton, with a smile, which boded no
“Let me
Do you think you can guide me to the spec
the battle took place if" he continued, addressing the.

7.4»

 

 

  

60, THE :3me mums
‘ “Yes, sir.” .

“ Then come along. To horse, gentlemen, you who follow
me. and the (1—1 take me if I do not drive these fellows to
the well. What will you do with this fellow in the white
sheet ‘3"

“ I'm a poor fool,” put in the idiot, driveling.

“Let him go,” replied Rawdon. “Away; no time is to
he lost."

In five minutes he heard the departing boots of Tarleton’s
horse, bound in pursuit of Surrey’s Riders.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE MIDNIGHT vrsr'r.

, JAKE. the negro attendant of Maud Carroll, returned to tell
his mistress about what had happened in the village, and to
recount the singular doings of the strange being who professed
to be sent to call the world to repentance. He was voluhle
in his narration, dwelling upon the wild manner of the idiot,
and the manner in which he had bearded the lion in his den.
While narrating this fact, his mistress saw a folded paper in
the pocket of his jacket, and pointed it out.

“ What is that '2" she said.
“ What ?"

“The paper in your pocket. Has some one sent a message. '

which you have forgotten ?”

“ I ain’t got no let—
fiom ?”

A paper protruded from his pocket.

“ You ridiculous fellow, some one gave it to you and you
have forgotten it.”

“ No (ley didn’t, so (lair. Tek it ef you want it. I donno
nothing ’bout him, I don’t. V’Tein’t none of mine, so dnr.”
aMaud took it from his pocket, and found it. a folded non.

Md to her. She opened it and read: . ‘

Fo’ de Lord! Wlia‘ dat come.

.‘a-o—a-M—IHHPF’

-".‘3’ ii" 1 1

 

 

  

Y .

V had’ ever done.
, ment, and had borne himself bravely against great odds, sim-

_: oonld come without falling into terrible danger.
~ illusion mm somewhat‘isolated, and he need not enter-tho

 

l I - Murine OI

«/ " My DEAR Mrss CARROLL :-Your sympathy Per the cause
which I support to the best of my poor ability makes me wish

1 to meet you agmn,because 1 think you would wish to do some-

thing for that cause. It is in your power, now, and if you can

' grant me an interview to-night, I will tell you how circumstan-
' ces over wluch I had no control forced me to leave without

visiting you as I had intended, and I think when I explain it\
you will not blzune me. I shall so far trespass upon your good-
unture us to take it for granted you will think proper to grant
m request. Iscnd this hyehand which never fails. and he
Will see that it gets to you.
' “CHARLES SURREY.”

“I tell you wot I t’ink. missee," said the negro. “ You
jnss take an' frow (lat letter away now while I speaks wid
you. Dnt’s a ghost letter, (hit is. I don’t speak wid no one
in Camden, an‘ so do ghosts mus’ bring him. Frow him
away.”

“ Nonsense.
this.”

“ You’d better frow (lat 'wny,” muttered Jake, as he slowly
left the room. Maud Carroll sat for some momenta holding
the letter and thinking over the request. This young man‘

You can go now; and do not speak of

‘had, in'a single interview, done more to break down the bar-

riet-s about u hitherto unconquered heart, than any other man
He had come to her rescue at a timely mo-

ply' because she was 9. woman and n Cnrolininn. Then he
Virus fighting for the freedom of the land she so dearly loved,
and she was a woman who had gone heart and soul into the
cause of America.- She mnde her decision, and it was to give
him the opportunity he desired. Perhaps her dreams led her

- i to hope that something more might come of this, but she kept
-that in her own heart. ‘

But would he come to her, when he knew that the village
Was full,ot‘ the English, and even his life might pay the for-
feit if taken? He had just struck them a damaging blow, and
he knew well that Lord Ruwdon would not stand long upon
points of law if he could have an opportunity of rope ing
the injury he had received. She did not understand how‘ho
‘ True. the

‘  but when the pickets were placed they would 1:2qu

 

  

as was swam» mums.

beyond the house, and he would be continually in danger.
There were many things to puzzle her in this strange missive.
He appointed no time nor place, but simply said he would
come, as if he had no fear. While she sat in the veranda,
she heard a deep voice singing along the road, and directly
utler the singer came in View. She saw in a moment that it
was the idiot of whom Jake had spoken. He still were his
white sheet, and as he saw her, raised his arms like wings and
shook them, keeping up the same chant.

’ “ Ha, ha, my pretty lady," he cried, “ there’s a crown for
' such as you in the kingdom. You do not love to see the red
blood flow, nor to hear the blare of trumpet or the beat of
drum. I love it, because my mission is war. Listen: I see
a black cloud hanging over the Britnins, and it will burst soon.
Woe, woe to them when it comes 1"

“ My poor fellow,” said Maud, kindly, “ I am glad to see,
you have sense enough to love a noble cause. Are you hun.
 ?”

"‘ Yes, pretty lady. I am a poor fool; but the General
gives me a fine body-guard to see me safe out of Camden.
I ran faster than they did, and they are coming now.”

As he spoke, two foot-soldiers came round a bend hurriedly,
and one of them caught him by the shoulder.

“ Be careful what you do, my fine fellow,” said he, “ or you
will get into trouble. Do not run away again.” '

“ But I wanted to see the pretty lady," whined the idiot,
his jaw dropping again. “ I am a poor fool, and you ought
not to use me so roughly.”

“ Treat him kindly, gentlemen,” said Maud. “ Remember
he is not accountable for what he does or says, and always
feel for the affliction God has seen fit to lay upon him. I
have asked him to stop and get something to eat, and I should
be pleased to extend the same invitation to you."

“ If you had added something to drink, miss, I would say

done,” said the soldier who had spoken, and who was a little ‘

inclined. to be impudent. “ What do you say ‘2”
: Maud, who had a kindly heart, did not let the impudenca
of the fellow keep her from doing a geod deed. She led the

my to the kitchen, and ordered the servants to bring food . 

end drink.

 

 

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BRANDY AND MADEIRA. ' M

“ What drink do you prefer, gentlemen 1’" she said. “ Do
not be afraid to ask for what you want."

“ Brandy for me, it‘ you have the good taste to keep that“
comfortable creature in the house,” said the spokesman. “ Our
duty ends here, for we were only ordered to see this man to
the outposts, and the last picket will be placed just in'ifront

, of the house.”

“I’ll take Madeira,” said the other. “ She called us gen-
tlemen, and for once I will drink a gentleman’s drink.”

Jake took the key of the wine-vault and returned in a mo-
ment,‘ carrying a flask of brandy and a dusty old bottle of
Madeira, which had not seen the light for thirty years. The
,Carrolls were an old family, and had once been the heirs of
one of the old baronies created in colonial days, when men
dreamed of an empire here in the W est, and this wine, like
.that of which Dickens speaks in Martin Chuzzlewit, “ seemed

, to have been bottled in the golden age, and had hoardcd up

its sparkle ever since.”

The soldiers ate and drank freely, and then strolled out,
without thanking Maud. She drew a. long breath when they
had gone.

“Throw away these glasses they have been drinking from,”
she said. “ I will not have them in my house since they have
been filled in honor of that beast, George the Third. Have
you every thing you want, poor man?"

The idiOt, who had been enjoying himself at a. side-table,
looked up as she spoke.

“ Pretty lady," he said, ” I‘have all I want. I am a poor
fool, but I know when I see a. lady who has a kind heart.
Sometimes I know more than at other times. I am going
away now. There is something I have been trying to remem-
ber, and what it. is I can not think. Yes, this is it. Come
close and I will whisper it in your car."

She approached him and bent her head. She started vio-

‘ Iently as he whispered:

“At five o’clock in the morning, he at the large oak behind
the negro-[quarters This from Charles Surrey.” A '
‘_ Q“ Who are you, strange man i” she cried, looking at him
more closely.

’1 All“; mboL"nplhd Mfiiotfiookingn   i'

‘ I

 

  

fit was swmur mm

 

    

 

  

 

 

 
 

who were storing at him, open-mouthed. “ I met a man upon f
the river this day, and he told me to find the most beautiful ,
woman in Camden, and say that to her. Is it right? Do you It
understand it ?” l .‘ 1,
“Yes.”
“I don’t; I am an idiot Good-by now, for I must go i,
away.” u
Before she could say a word to detain him, as she would y
have done, the door had closed behind him, and he passed on 4
up the road, singing as before, and never looking buck. Maud ‘ h
ran to the window and watched him until his stalwart figure
was hidden behind the next rise of ground. fc
Darkness was coming on, and the British lines were ex-
tended. She could see the tall form of n. sentry pacing his , a
lonely heat within a. dozen yards of the house. Mnud feared m
that some evil might happen from his presence, and watched d,
him closely. It grilled her to see this myrmidon of British ca
power in arms upon her father’s hind, hut she could do noth- 1,,
ing to prevent it. As she stood watching him, she saw a man in
pass the window, and directly after a. knock came at the door. v
She did not move from where she stood until a servant came 1
down announcing a. gentleman waiting to see her. ac
“ What gentleman ?” she suid. - ' I
“Ossifer l” replied Jake. , m
“A British officer 1’" 1w
“ Iss, misses. Say you be grad to see him,” said the negro. 1m
,_ Maud went up to the parlor and, found Major Darnier wait- I y
ing to receive her. She was surprised to see him, of course, ..
but did not show it. , yo
“ To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit, sir f” {0,
“I have a message to deliver, Miss Carroll," replied the 
major, with an easy politeness which set well upon him. “ I 
.should have delivered it before, but that an unforeseen accident a“
prevented it.” an
“ I have heard that you have been in affliction since you left cm
Camden," snid Maud, wickedly. “ You have had it difileulty am
with some of these rugged fellows in the swamp."
“ You are hard upon inc, Miss Carroll. Do me the justice an
to believe that I never was guilty of the meanness of attempfi gee

    
 

=~tobelittleonradverurieu I on: willing to  um
/ , .

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, intimate, Miss Rachel Dal-ten by name.
I to you, which I deliver.

ply—Fw-

' in the swamp.

V acquaintance begun under rude auspices.

 

coon-mom. I6

they are'brave men fighting for a false idea, which they must
relinquish because we have the power.”

“ We will not argue upon the subject, sir," she said. “ You
have not stated the object of your visit.” '

“ In Charleston I have a cousin with whom you have been
She gave me a letter
But I have had the honor of seeing
you before.” '

“ Ah 1‘” said Maud, running her eye over the note he gang]
her. “I do not remember.”

“ It was in Charleston last year at the ball given by Bal-
four."

' “ I was introduced to so many gentlemen with red costs
that you must excuse me for being bewildered by such a blaze
of manly grace and innocence. This note introduces you in
due form, Major Darnier, and at any time you may choose to
call you shall be made welcome, although, if the truth must
be told, I expected you would remain longer with our friends

I did indeet ." ‘

' “ I took French leave of my quondam friends, Miss Maud.
They were Very pressing in their hospitallties, but I could not
accept them for any great length of time. Once in the swamp,

. I managed to elude the vigilance of my guards, and you see

me here. There is one thing I will say, and that is, if I ever
have the good fortune to meet that worthy youth who had the
honor of saving you from the insolence of some of my oflicers,
I will try to repay in some sort the injury he has done me.”
. “He will doubtless be as ready to meet you, major. I give
you fair warning that it will be a duel d l’outrance between us,
for I am a Whig, heart and soul."
 “ Unconverted yet. I am sorry to hear it, but will try to
convert you. I must bid you good-night, as I must go upon
duty. Lord Rawdon has waived an examination of my con-
duct. until after this campaign, and I am on duty again. My
cmnpany is woefully weak. I shall endeavor to cultivate an
Good-night."

As he passed out into the road he paused, and a dark smile I .
Ilttsd over his handsome face. “ Yes, proud beauty, I have ‘
registered an oath. You shall bemine though a score of rebel

rm“ between‘ufl Courage-mm  York's“

 

   
 

    

no me swm mm.

never yet been beaten in the end, and why falter now? Look
to yourselves, for I am sworn, and God do so to me as I will
keep my oath.” ,

Maud, after the departure of the major, went into her own
room and lay down to rest until the hour arrived for the meet.
ing.
for she foresaw that he might give them trouble, for his re-
putation had gone before him, and she knew he was a keen
and active man. Though she nifected to have forgotten him,
she was well aware that he had seen and admired her in
Charleston, and Rachel Dartcn’s letters had informed her that
he had not ceased to rave about her still.

As morning drew near she arose and looked from the win-
dow. It was a clear morning, and she could see objects dis-
tinctly many yards distant. The huge sycamore-tree appointed
for the interview vas half concealed from View by the negro-
quartcrs, and stood some three hundred yards from the road.
When the time came, she wrapped it clonk about her, and

opening the back door, stole out into the grounds, looking cau- '

tiously about her to satisfy herself that no one observed her

All was silent about the plantation, and she advanced a 'few ‘

pace: and listened again. Still she could hear no sound,'and
at last, satisfied that no one was stirring, she stole silently
away, passed the negro-quarters, and reached the tree.

“ Hist i" cried a low voice. “ Is that you, Miss Maud f”

“ Yes, yes.”

A man darted from the bushes and extended his hand.
me gave him both hers, and he raised them to his lips with a
courtly grace which is fast passing away among men.

She blushed and drew her hands gently away.

“ Pardon me, I entrant,” said Surrey, for it was indeed he.
“ Your kindness in coming to meet me makes me so grateful
that I must express it in some way.”

“ I am not angry,” she said, softly. “ But, oh, why do you
come here, when you know the terrible danger you undergo!
You have made enemies for my sake, and I would not have

‘you come here while they remain.” "

f‘ All men have enemies. I do not fear them, 'I hope, not!

than most men. What particular enemies have I?" v w 

The inopportune escape of Darnier annoyed her a little, ‘

2-H

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first is a vindictive, low-bred, villainous wretch. . He has that
reputation in Charleston even among his mates. He will hesi-
tate at no crime by which he may do you an injury.”

“ No doubt; but his worship is safe in the swamp under
guard of my best men, and can not escape.”

“ Major Darnier—”

“ Also in dumnce vile.”

“ He has escaped."

“ Impossible.”

“ I saw him to—night.”

“ Ha; I am sorry for that, for Major Darnier is it man who
is better bound than free. Did he tell you how he escaped ‘2”

, “ No; he merely said he eluded the vigilance of his guards.”

“I can not think he would break his parole,” muttered
Surrey. “But he had given it before I left. It is an odd
thing and I can not fathom it now. Let it pass until I see
my major, and he must explain to my satisfaction how it was
that this officer managed to escape. But, even this is nothing
new. I have a. plan which I hope will do great injury to our
enemies, and in which you can aid me. The question is, will
you do it t" I
' “ I ask nothing better than to be able to do something for
the cause of freedom,” she said. “Try me, if you will. I
am but a. woman, and yet I think I could dare much in such
a cause as this. Will you give me the opportunity ? Ah, if
all the women of our dear land were of my mind, and you ,
would sufl'er it, we would take our places in the field and fight,
if need be, with whnt little strength we have.”

i‘ New, by my life," cried Surrey, striking his palms together,
“ who dxtres to say we can be conquered, when the country
contains women as brave us this? If our men had half their
spirit, the country would have been rid of the invaders long
Now, if you will listen attentively, I will tell you what
Hal who-stirs the leaves? Get to the house
as quickly as you can, for I am surroundec .”

“lMflkC no movement until I can be your escort, my dear t
Miss Maud,” said the voice of Darnier. “ I am sorry to be the
means of interrupting so pleasant a té'ted-téte, but really]

‘have no option. You will be pleased to consider yourself my \
I.  WWOIIConyets.” /- _

 

Q m SWAMP moms.

“ Conyers !” cried Maud.
come here tonight ?"

“Bright eyes, before his time, have lured brave men tc
their ruin,and why not yours 1’" said Darnier. “ Colonel Con-
yers, a change has come over the spirit of your dream.
Yesterday, I told you that the laugh would not always be on
your side, and you see I was right. The tables are turned,
and I fear you will find your position a delicate one. Man,
how could you have the impudence to be caught within our
lines 1’"

“ Within your lines!

“ Oh, heavens, why did you

It is false, sir. Your outmost picket

is on the other side of the houseI and you know that you do .

not state the truth. when you say I am within your lines.
I But do not exult so quickly. You claim no bird until you
have caught it, and I am yet to be caught. Take that l”
' As he said this, he dealt the major a blow with his
clenched hand, which laid him prostrate; and then, drawing
his sword, be bounded over the prostrate form, and tried to
gain the woods. The four men whom the major led rushed
at him, and quicker than aman could have spoken two words,
the foremost two lay bleeding on the sod, one desperately
wounded, and the other stunned by a cut upon the head. By
this‘time the major had regained his feet, and with a snarl like
that of a wounded tiger, called out to his men to fall back,
and give him room. The next moment, with a sharp hiss, the
steel blades crossed, and the two men fought in the presence
of the woman whom each admired more than any woman
he had ever seen.
the American army as a perfect Bayard, a man “sans pour e! sum
repr ,” a finished swordsman, a perfect horsemen, and a
cool but during leader. On the other hand, Damier was
second to few in the British army in sword-play, and had a keen
eye, a. pliant wrist, and the long arms which appertain to the
finished swordsman. Maud knew this well, and almost trem-
bled for her champion as she saw the two men cross swords.
The feeling was but momentary, however, for she saw that he

was cool and steady, even smiling as he parried the continued v

Assaults of Darnier. Scarcely moving after his first traverse,
he stood upon his guard, and as he sweptl his keen point from
“do to side, nothing except his wrist and hand seemed“ to

/

 

 
  

   
  

 
  

 
  
 
 
  

Charles Surrey Conyers was known in-

 

    

  
   
  

 

 

 

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- hand, and bore hiln down upon his knee.

 

 

 

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AGAIN DISCOhiFITED.

.99

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move, and that 'as pliant as steel. That hlado seemed to

firm a wall of steel about him, which‘hit was impossiblo‘tO‘

‘--break through, and Darnier felt that he was fighting against
a. man who was complete master of his weapon. In vain-—
' “ He practiced every ass and ward,
To thrust, to strike, to eint, to guard—-

for that keen blade met him at every point. The two soldiers,
obeying the command of their leader, remained a little apart,
,but one of them had a loaded musket, and held it ready to
fire in case the young soldier of the republic proved too
strong for his leader. Still the weapons hissed and flashed,
in lines of lambent light, and Darnier felt his strength going.
Then it was that Charles Conyers seemed to rouse himself and
assume the offensive. He threw himself forward, and began
an attack which was as surprising as it. was annoying to his
adversary, who fell hack before it, vainly attempting to with-‘
stand it. He was already twice slightly wounded, and the
soldier was raising his weapon to his shoulder, when a wild
cry resounded, and a huge form bounded from the thicket, and
at a. single blow, beat down the man who lwld the musket,
which went off as he fell. A second blow felled the other
man. just as Conyers wrested the blade of Darnier from his
“The sword of
the Lord and‘Gideon l” cried the new-comer, and Maud saw
that it was the strange man who had visited her thnt

CHAPTER IX.
THE 13mm BIT.

MAUI), with a joyful cry, ran to him and took his hand.
He motioned her 03’, and stood a moment looking quickly
about him. “ I will not ask you how you escaped {rem my
men, Major Darnier,” cried Conyers, turning to his vanquished
enemy. » “ That would be idle now, and could do no good.

, 301.0! this be assured, I am willing to meet you upon any ground

worsen the sun shines, with any weapon you choose to“!!th
‘ .  rw u: ' ‘ inmost

,t,‘ v

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'70 m swm moans.

But that I saw you sneaking in the bushes, I might have be~
.t'rayed a secret which would have done a. wrong to the cause
I follow. As for you, your ill-timed hnste spoiled all."

“Who is this devil who has Come in so suddenly, and
destroyed all my labor?" hissed the major, almost beside him-
self with rage. “Madmen and fools will ruin me. Yester-
day an accursed Yankee led me into an ambush, and to-night,
this madman has taken my prey out of my hands. Who are
you?"

“ I am a poor fool,” said the idiot.

“ Then let me give a little good advice, which I hope you
will have wit. enough to profit by. Let me never see your.

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 

face again, for if I ever meet you, madman or wise man, I I
will hang you as sure as my name is Ransom Darnier. So ;
look to yourself."

“Your road lies yonder,” said Conyers, pointing forward I:
with his sword toward Camden. “We can not make you, ~ 0
prisoner to-night, because you would only incumher us. Go.” fl

Dnrnicr turned, with n. wicked smile upon his face, and
walked quickly toward the village. “ Come aw: y,” cried “
Conyers, “there is no time to lose. Miss Maud, God in
heaven bless you for your sympathy in our cause, and may dn
the time come soon when I can thank you better. The red- hm
cents are stirring, and I hem“ the trmnp of boots. Farewell I the
for the present, but if I live, we shall meet again.” in

“, Who is this man, Colonel Conyers? He is not madj Bav

hope.”
I , . ev
I can not tell you now. Trust lnm always w1tl1 messages , co:

to me, if you need aid, and he sure they will reach me. He! The
Here they come.” . of ,
He darted into the thicket, and the next moment appeared pani‘
in the saddle, followed by the idiot, who had thrown off the (we ‘
sheet, which would incumber him in riding. At the same a “f
moment forty or fifty of a Tory company, led by Darnier, and‘
cleared the low fence in front of the mansion, and caught hm“
. sight of them. - _
“ There they go I” screamed Daruier. “ Mark that devil on the n
{the black horse. Fifty guineas for either, dead or slive.” ' how
. With wild shouts the whole Tory band rushed by, making one?
in air vocal with imprucetions upon the impudent__Whigl_- ‘

 

 
 

  

r.

A m: on mason 71

   

.who had dared to heard them in their very den. Maud fell
upon her knees and prayed that they might escape, and
waited until the sound of hoot's had died away in the distance,
and the last shout, faintly echoed, was heard ncross the planta-
tion. Five hundred yards at the start was all that separated
the two flying men from enemies whose tender mercies were
the clitest cruelties. Whig and Tory! Only those who
lived in that terrible time can guess the hate which tilled the
breast of one party against the other.

The Tories gained upon the fugitives so much that scarce
a hundred yards sepurnted them, and the)r were plainly visible
in front. The idiot; was riding it powerful black horse, for
superior to the one ridden by his companion, and could easily
have lelt him far behind. But, with unheard-of bravery in a.
man of his class, he was seen to pull hnrd upon the bit,,and
keep down the pace of the animal to correspond with that
of Conyers, who, though well mounted, rode no uch beast as
the idiot.

“ Confonnd his itnpudence I" cried Dnrnier. “ Take a shot

   
  
     
  
 
 
    
  
 
 
   
  
   
 
 

Ed at the fellow from the saddle, Frobisher.”
1“ The man addressed—a srtllow, lean-visuged snnd-lapper—
W drew his rifle to his shoulder and fired, even while upon the
id" bound. The ball flew wide of the person aimed at,and struck
an ' the horse Conycrs rode at. the base of the skull, leveling him
in a. moment. Only the skillful horsemnnship of Conyers
1’1 saved him from being crushed by the full of the animal, and
even as it was, his foot was entangled for a. moment. and he
599 could not readily extricate it. There was no time for words.

1“" The idiot leaped from the saddle, while the triumphant shout
. of the Tories was yet ringing in his enrs,nnd catching his com-
,ptmion by the waist, he lifted the powerl‘ul young mun from
me -the ground, and swungr hint into the snddle, giving the horse
“me a slap on the flunk. As he bounded away, the idiot turned
“3911.3 and sent. :1 defiant cry back at the Tories before he plunged
“3” ‘.into the thick woods that bordered the way. ‘
‘ Conyers saw that it was useless to return, and he trusted to
the man who had,with such powerful friendship, given up his
horse, to make his escape. He knew the ground well, and that

 

 

  

 a or the other mutilate taken to: the woods beforglonk,
 The black horse, manned by the blow to had reééivo'd. um

   
 

 

p m ewsur mm

placing too great a distance between Conyers and his pursuers.

and this was hardly his cue. A dozen of the Tory band turned

their horses into the woods in pursuit of the footman, while the
rest continued the chase of Conyers.

For five miles, by pulling hard at the bit, the Colonel man-
aged to keep their relative positions unchanged. They were
now approaching a deep wood, into which a narrow path
turned. Conyers guided the noble nnimnl he rode into this
opening, slackening his pace as he did so. They followed at
full speed, and the last man had hardly passed out of sight,
when thirty horsemen sprung from the thicket and followed
'Iol'tl .

Jgst then came the crack of rifles, and the wild shout of the
riders of Conyers. The Tories were assailed front, flank and
rear, ridden down, horse and man, and cxterminnted uospnr-
ingly. They were a portion of the band known as the “ Bloody
Scout,” led by a fiend in human shape named Cunningham,
who, by their atrocities, had placed themselves without the pale
of mercy. There was no restraining the savage instincts of
the Whigs when face to face with these atrocious villains.

Hemmed in on every side, they turned upon their assailants
with the courage of desperation, and fought as only men can
fight when that is their only choice. A chosen few, banded
about the person of Dal-nier, whose presence was a strong
tower to them, broke through the ranks of their enemies, and
gained the woods. Then the cry was, “ Every man for him-
self and the devil take the hindmost." Darnier, by dint of
hard riding and knowledge of the ground, made his escape and
came out of the forest not far from the place where the dead
horse lay, where he was joined by the men who had turned

(aside in pursuit of the idiot. One of them never came back.
Whether he sunk in the dark pools of the swamp, or was
killed by the strange man they pursued, his comrades never
knew.

Four more of the Tories came into camp before morning,
all that was left of the band. Darnier, almost heart-broken
by the many crosses he had been forced to bear in these two
1 (183‘s. returned. to camp and reported. Rawdon looked black
It‘ the news.

 f m is fit. matter with yon,Major Denier! V You were

 
     
   

   
 
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
 

f

    
 

>‘ A I
use m nonsmourox. 18

not wont to run your head into traps in this reckless man-
her.”

“My lord," said Darnier, eagerly, “my zeal may hava led
me astray, but I aimed to serve his majesty faithfully. I sin
certain this idiot is some scout of the enemy, and of wonder-
ful address. He must be so indeed to deceive even your lord-
ship.”

“Pshswl this is even worse than the rest. If ever there
was a. born idiot, this man is one ; I sounded him my-
self."

“ But a fellow who can seize a man like Conyers by the
Waist and put him into the saddle like a child, can certainly be
useful to the enemy."

“ No doubt, no doubt. There it is again. This man Con-
yers, who has done all this evil, has escaped again. If we
could have kept the fellow, I would have hung him as an ex-
ample to all rebels and traitors who think of coming into my
lines. What bugles are those, orderly? Go out and see, and
report at once.”

The man was gone but a moment.

“ Colonel Tarleton is coming into camp, your lordship,” he
said. “He wishes to report."

“ Admit him.” I

Tarleton came in flushed and angry, tapping his sword-hilt
in a manner peculiar to him when under the influence of
Itrong excitement.

“ Now, Bannister i" cried stdon.

“My lord, this fellow has stolen a march upon us, and is in
our rear with nearly a hundred men. He struck the train of
rovr wagons under charge of Lieutenant Grover yesterday af-
ternoon,took twenty men and the lieutenant. One man only

' escaped, who reports this loss."

“ The devil. And now he has cut up forty or fifty of Cun-
ningham's men under Major Dnrnier. The impudence of these
fellows passes belief. They had better not, drive me to ex-
tremities. If they do, if I do not lay Camden even with the
ground, may I never see—3' .

I ‘Whatever he meant to say was never spoken, for at that
moment the rattle of rifles and rush of men announced fresh
trouble. Rawdon dnmd out to find the camp in contusion,

 

74 m swan mums

and emcers hurrying about trying to quell the tumult. It was
some moments before they could make out what had hap-
pened. _Thcn the tumult ceased, and an ofiicer came in to
report.

“An attack on the pickets, your lordship, by a squadron of
horse.”

“What casualties, sir ?”

“ Three men of the Tenth killed and four wounded, one of
them desperately. Ten men missing."

“Who is ofilcer of the night?”

“ I, your lordship.”

“Did you hear no disturbance before the attack 1’"

“ No, sir. It came and went before five minutes had passed
by. They rode over the pickets, cut them down and took
them prisoners before any thing could be done."

“ Did you take any prisoners ?”

“ A single man, your lordship. Will it please you to see
him ‘1’"

“Yes; have him in at once,” said Rawdon, maligntmtly,
a savage smile lighting up his face. “This is almost enough
to atone for the capture of the men. ,I will make such an
example of this traitor that he shall rather wish himself in
the regions of the lost than in my hands. Orderly, go out
and bring him here.”

There was a. silence of some moments, during which Torie-
ton did not cease to tap his sword-hilt. and Ruwdon remained
with his head upon his hund,in deep thought. Steps sounded
without, and a mun came in closely guarded, and stood near
i- the door, looking ubout with n cnlm smile. It was Blacksmith

Tom who had fallen into the hands of the enemy, but he did
‘ not seem to care much about it.

“ Here I am, gentlemen. Now if I may ask the questicu.
what have you got to say to me? Don’t keep me wait-
lug."

    

 

  

 

 
  
 

    
  
 
 
    

 
  

 

 
  
  
  
 
 
 

 
   
     
  

 

  
 
 

  

 

  

C II A P T E R X .
BLACKSMITK Tom’s DANGER.

AT the sight of this man, so cool, calm, self-reliant, all the
angry passions which had been seething all that day in the
bosom of Lord Rawdon boiled over.

“ Now, by my life, your intpudence passes all belief, fellow.
Gentlemen, do you know this man ?"

“ I know him, my lord," suid Darnier, coming forward with
I malicious smile upon his face, “ and I am sorry to say I can
report no good of him. He is a blacksmith, who—”

“I kuowed Major Darnicr before,” said Matthews, inter-
rupting him. “ Shod his hosses before he went out with the
convoy. Colonel Conyers has got them hosses now. He got
some more the same arternoon. and some more last night."

“ Be silent, fellow. Do not wag your tongue too much- in
this room, or I may cut it out.”

‘5, Would you ?" said Matthews. “ That may be a good way
to do it. But, if I had a. hundred tongues, and was like to
lose them all, I’d have my say out. Yes, I am Blacksmith
Tom—old Tom Matthews, the swamp scout; I boast of it,

and am prouder of it than I would be if I could have your

rank this day.”

“ Then you confess that you are a traitor ?”

" Confess it? No l Traitor I am none, for men who an
fighting on their own soil, for their own liberties, can not be
traitors. Look at these hands, Lord Rawdon. They are
made hard and brown by toil, honest toil, but they never
yet struck a blow—and they have struck many a one—which
was not on the side of freedom.” ‘

“ Are‘you ready to (lie ?"

“ Look you, sir. I’m getting on in years, and have worked
hard’and lived hard. A rough, plain man I may be, but I
never ,did a wicked or dishonest act to my knowledge. I
hope I em as ready to die when my time comes as any man
here, but I don’t banker arter it; that I tell you pining! ,

 

  

  

7. mm mm mass.
“ You have reached the end of your journey. Major Dan,
nler, go out and get a file of men, and lead this man out to
execution. Hang him to the tree in front of this house, and
let him stay all day as an example to the loyal people of
Camden.”

“ Since I must die, let me die a soldier’s death, not a crimo
inal's. Order out your file of men, it‘ you will, but let them
bring their muskets and shoot me. I’ll not flinch.”

“ As you like. Choose your mode of death. Away with
him, and have the army drawn up in a hollow square to see
him die. While you prepare, ask the landlord for the keys
of the cellar, and lock him up under guard. I trust you with
that duty. Captain Sinclair. Break up here.”

The officers left the room, and Tom Matthews was led out,
guarded. There was a lofty look in his noble face, which sent
a thrill into the breasts of all who looked upon it, and they
could but think they had to look upon the death of a brave
man. Uncle Ben, with tears in his eyes, showed the way to
the cellar, and locked the door. Tom’s heart gave a great
bound as he saw the place in which they had put him, but
' fell again when he found that they had placed a guard in-
side the door. This guard was a stolid-looking Englishman,
who glared at the prisoner so savagely, that the blacksmith
knew how useless it was to expect a favor from him.

An hour passed on, the key grated in the lock, and he
thought theythad come to lead him forth to die. But, he Was
mistaken; instead of the guard, he heard the rustle of a
woman’s garments.

Maud Carroll, attended by Major Darnler, entered the cel-
lar. The beautlful face. so full of compassion for him in his
desperate strait, did for Tom Matthews what the fear of death

could never have done, unmanned him. He felt his eyes
5

growing dim and he covered his face.

“ Guard,” said Darnicr, “ come with me."

The two were alone together.

“ I am sorry to see you here, Tom," she said. “ How did
it. happen 1‘"

“ ’Twas an accident, Miss Mead," said the' blacksmith.
"You use, we changed thepiokets and I was taken, that’s the
long mason of a." v . ' g -

     
   

   
  
   
  

 

 

 

 
 

 
    

 

 

    

ammonium. 77

“Oh, Tom, you good, brave man, can nothing be done to
save you t"

“ I don’t reckon you can do any thing. Darnier sot them
against me harder than they would have been, and mebbe I
was a little slifl‘ in my way of talking to them. I couldn‘t
stand their airs.”

“But, I can not sufi‘er this to go on. I will go to Lord
Rawdon, whom I know well, and intercede for you. I will
tell him what a brave man you are, and that you have not done
any thing worthy of death. They have not even tried you."

“ And what’s more, they never mean to. Lord love your
heart, they couldn’t prove a thing against me, though if they
knew all, they might have reason on their side. Let me tell
you that it’s no use to appeal to Lord Rawdon. He is a bil-
ious, sour, discontented fool; that’s about what he is."

“ But I must go to him, Tom. He was once my father’s
mend, and may listen to me on that account. Be of good
heart, for I may save you yet.”

“Whether you do or not, Miss Maud, you have lightened
my labor and made death easy. God bless and keep you.”

She went out weeping and the guard came back. Rawdon
was in the room in which he had examined the scout, bending
over a mass of papers, when the orderly came in to announce
that Maud Carroll wished to speak with him.

The result of this interview the blacksmith too truly fore-
told. Rawdon offered to release Tom, and give him a position
In Darnier’s dragoons, if he would promise to lead ’l‘arleton to.
the haunt of young Conyers. This roused Muud‘s indigna-
tion, and Rawdon recoiled at the words of contempt which
burst from the brave girl‘s tongue at so insulting a propowl.

' The painful interview ended in anger, and the order was issued

in Maud’s presence for Darnier to instantly lead out the pris-
oner for execution—so hard-hearted had war made the once
gellant Rawd0n.

The population of Omnden were on the housetops, and in
every place where they could see plainly, when Blacksmith Tom
was led out to die. Suddenly, as if wrung from them by his
noble bearing, a sounding cheer Went up for him, which he re-
turned by a wave of the hand. The muffled drums beat .u-
fiwnmhsddownthehneot red-Mucus 

 
 

   
 

  

78 m swsm' menus

them. The sun shone brightly now when he was looking on
his last sunrise. It never looked so beautiful as now.

“ Ask him if he has any thing to say before he dies, Dumier.
And give him the chance I spoke of.”

Dnrnier approached the brave man as he stood beside his
coffin, and made him the ofi‘er Rawdon had made to Maud.
Tom heard him calmly to the end, and then, raising his hand,

,dcalt him such a buffet that he dropped like a dead man.

“ Take that for an answer, minions of England, who darel
insult a (lying man by asking him to turn truitor to save his
worthless life. If you could give me all the gold your vile
king can count as the price of my treason. crown-jewels and
all, you could not buy me. Now then, are you satisfied i”

They raised Darniel‘ and carried him away, while Rnwdon
signed to another officer to take charge of the execution.
While the firing party were makingr their pieces ready, Mut-
thews stood beside his coflin as coolly as if all this was sport
to him, and nothing more than he was accustomed to. “Let
all men remember," he cried, “ that nothing has been charged
against me, nor have I ever had the form of a trial. I am
deemed guilty unto death and this is the end. Good friends r
in this town of Camden, who have known me so long and
thought so kindly of me, good-by. When you sit beside your
henrths as the years go by, when America is free. tell your
children how Blacksmith Tom died for his country. I shall
not see the end I have prayed for, but I have stood upon the
mountain-top and looked into the promised land. Good-by, I
one and all. Now, minions of n despotic and idiotic king, do
your worst; I am ready."

Again Rawdon made a. signal, unhecding Maud, who was
clinging to his knees and praying him to have mercy, and the
men drew up in line before the doomed man.

“ Are you ready ‘3" said the ofliccr.

“ Ready !" replied the corporal.

“Present,” said the officer. “ Take aim at the body when
you lire. Look out for the word. Now—"

mfore he could pronounce the fatal word there came a wild
cry, and they saw a man coming at full speed down the line,
urging his horse to the utmost, and waving something white

than his head. Rawdon motioned to stay the execution.

 

 

 

e

 

  

 

  

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   

 

   

CHAPTER XI.

DAnNmn’s woomo.

“ Fire i” cried the blacksmith. “ I am ready to die, if you
dare to kill me.”

All turned to the new-comer in surprise, and the resident:
of Camden recognized Dan Melony. His eye glanced over
the assembled crowd and saw that his friend was safe, and
then he turned toward the place where Rawdon stood, with I
look which boded no good to him.

“ Bring that fellow here,” said the Commander-in-Chief.

Dan advanced at once and stood face to face with the Eng.
lien General, holding a folded paper in his hand.

“ What do you want, fellow ?” said Rawdon. “ Who sent
you here i‘”

“ Sure. the paper will tell ye that." said Dan, giving it to
him. “Bade it, and thin tell me what ye mane to do. Sorta
til ye an’ til the likes av ye. afi‘ ye had killed Blacksmith
Tom." '

Rawdon took the paper from his hand and glanced over it
hastily. It began abruptly:

" To Loan RAWDON:

“ If you dare to harm my friend and fellow-soldier, Tom Mat-
thews. otherwise known as the Blacksmith of Camden, I will
execute in the same way in which you execute him. a major, a
captain and lieutenant, now in my hands. Ask your officer.

who have'heard of me whether I am likely to keep in word.
“ CHARLES SURREY CONYERS, Colonel of Partisan angers."

The dark face of Rawdon took on a savage look as he read
this singularly offensive missive. He passed it to Tarleton
and asked him to read it to the other officers.

“ What do you think of it “P” he said.

“From what I know of this Conyers I should say he

‘ would be Very likely to keep his word,” replied Tarleton. ‘ -

7 “Would “mt” - r  
‘ “protein a price uponttis  alreadyggfl “wagging

 
 

   

80 run swam swans.

be likely to hesitate in so slight a matter as the life or death
of three officers,” was the answer.

“ Whom has he taken ‘2”

“Major Withers, Captain Luther and Lieutenants Biltos
and Curry,” said Tarleton.

“Then what is your advice i”

“ To keep this fellow a prisoner until these oficers are ex
changed, and then deal with him as you see fit."

“I would sooner cut 03‘ my hand than yield an inch to
this rebel, but it must be done, I suppose. Major Darnier
take this man back to the cellar in which he was placed be
fore, and it‘ it seems strong enough, leave him there until the
army moves. The execution is deferred.”

“ And what shall be done with this fellow who brought the
message? I know him, my lord, and he is a sort of hench—
man of this blacksmith."

“I w’u‘dn‘t put a hand on me afi‘ I was you. The colo-
nel thinks so mighty well av me that he said afi' ye was to
touch me he’d make wan av thim officers answer fer me. He’s
a divil av a fellow, is the colonel.”

“ Let him alone,” said Rawdon. “Return to your master
and say that we have yielded to his demand for the sake of
the ofiiceis he would murder. But, that I design to retain
him as prisoner until duly exchanget ."

“ The colonel w’u’d exchange any man av the omcers for
him,” said Dan.

“ Major Withers l’”

“ Any wan. He’d sooner let ye have back Captain Luther
because he’s a fine led, an’ we think a great dale av him.
.Ye've a man among ye that broke his parole av honor an’
ran aWay—hiln they call Major Darnier.”

“ You lie l" shouted Dnrnier, who had come out upon the
veranda, turning livid. “I gave up my parole.” *
" f‘ Don’t tell me I lie, ye black thafe, or I’ll knock the head
av ye ag’in’ the walls. Ye did break yer parole, an’ ye know
it. Til the divil wid ye, an’ may he pad your saddle where.
ever ye ride. No matther for that. Good-by, ould Tom.
We won’t l’ave ye long in prison." V )

' ,“ Never mind me.” replied Tom. “ Thank you Mom. '
 .Ithoughtl had nime this time. A  'esn't

   

W

 
   

 

 

 

 

 not (uh easily Med or overcome.”

 

   

us EVENING can. 81

come nearer than when he hears ‘ ready—aim l’ Look out that
some of these thieves don‘t follow you.”

“They’d betther not thry that on,” said Dan. “I'll lads

them such a chase as they never heard av before.”
, “ Stop that,” said Rawdon. “ Give this Irishman free pas-
sage, Major Dugrange, and see that no one follows himt
Take good care of this spy, Major Darnier, {or it may be in
our power to punish him yet."

Tom grinned widely, and waved his hand to the crowd as
they led him into the house and to his old prison. The door
Was locked upon him and the key given to the guard.

As the evening came on, Darnier walked down to the resi-
dence of Maud Carroll. He found her alone, and she re-
ceived him with a latent fire in her eyes which did not bode
any good to him. But, she was bred a lady, and received him
as a lady should receive a gentleman, even though upon the
wrong side, and showed him into the parlor. She did not
seem much in the mood for talking, and he was forced to take

- the lead. »

“ I am conscious of having appeared to a disadvantage in
your eyes lately,” he said. “ I deplore it, the more because if
there is any one whose good opinion I covet, more than an-
other, it is yours How can I set myself right in your eyes it"

“I would not go into that subject if I Were you, Major
Darnier,” she said, coldly. “ Sufier me to receive you as the
friend of my. cousin, and not as a gentleman fighting against
the cause I love.”

“ I too should be glad to put this unhappy quarrel out of
the question,” said the major. “ It is better for all concerned.
But, that is not what I wished to speak of. You are angry
with me because I attempted the capture of that young trait
tor known as Charles Surrey, a name we now know to be as-
sumeu" ’

“ The attempt recoiled upon yourself,” she replied, “ and I
do not know that I have any good reason to be angry with you
for that. You only did your duty."

“ As you say, it failed. I may succeed better another time,

‘for I will not attempt to conceal from you that I mean to fol-

low him to the bitter death. I. will teach him that Ransom

  

 
 

 

  

83‘ 1mg swm- moans.
“ Did you come to tell me this .9”

“ I came to set myself right in your eyes.”

“ You take a strange way of doing it when you announeo
yourself the deadly enemy of one of my friends."

'“ How can it be otherwise? He has disgraced me in a
manner for which there is no atonement except his downfall;
he has beaten me at both saber and small-sword, broken up
my squadron, captured the train of which I was guard, twice
(h'nwn me into an nmhuscncle, and shaken the faith of my su-t
pe-riors in my ability.”

“ Yet I have heard him speak highly of your merits us a
soldier. In Charleston, every tongue was loud in your praise.
A brave man should not show hatred for another because he
has been more fortunate than he in battle.”

“ It is not that. entirely,” he muttered. “ There is some—
thing deeper, dnting before the time when I first saw him.”

“ That can hardly be”

“ Shall I explain ‘2" he asked.

“ It is hardly worth your while, I should think,” she an-
swered, running,r herfingers lightly over the strings of the harp
upon which her hand rested. “ Come, let me sing you a
song and say no more of this matter. What shall it he i”

“ 0f love,” he said, “ the lever which moves the world.”

' “Nay,” she replied. “I sing no love-ditties now. Here
is a rude ballad which a. wild poet sung, under the greenwood
bough. You shall hear it, if you like:

“ We ride by glen and hazel-tree,

By swamp and leafy cover;

.A wild and careless hand are we,

When we by camp-fires hover.

But when the ‘ spirit-stirring drum "

Rings out its loud alarm ;

From bush and brake and heath we come.

And never think of harm.

Our band is few, but frank and free,
Each loving as a brother;

We dwell beneath the cypress-tree,
In kindness to each other.

, When night comes down upon the loud,

And heaven’s blue vault. is o’er 115.

Oh, then comes forth our faithful bud.
'l'he'l'ory qustls'bofore'iul.“ "

y

 
 

     
 
 

  

 

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enema A rooms“. 83

“I cry enough," he said, raising his hand; “it is hardly
fair in you to take advantage of my position and force me to
hear songs of that kind. Good faith, I can not say much for
the poet. Let the harp rest for a moment, for I have some
thing to say to you, and must say it now. I came to Camden
with a. purpose which I have not explained to you. I have
told you that we met in Charleston, where my cousin Rachel—”

“ And, honor bright, is she not a lovely girl, Major Darnier?
Does Mrs. Rivington give her parties yet '3"

“Mrs. Rivington is under a cloud at present, because it is
believed that David Ramsay, the historian, has visited there.”

“ And the Harveys are there, I suppose? One can not but
admire them, though they are on the wrong side.”

“ But, Miss Maud—”

“Positively, I will not hear a word until you tell me about
Charleston, where I spent so delightful a month. It is a beau-
tiful place, though vandal hands are on its walls.”

“Miss Maud, I must speak."

“ How tiresome you are! Of course I want you to speak,
but you must let me choose the topics myself. I vote we talk
of Charleston to—night, and you shall give me an amount of
all the glories of the city since I have forsworn its pleasures,
on account of so much feathers and red-coats. Somehow, they
seem to blot the face of nature.”

“ It is idle for you to try to put me off in this way, Maud
Carroll,” said the major, sternly; “ you do not know my dis-
position or you would understand that I am untiring when I
make up my mint .”

Maud knew perfectly what he wanted, and tried to spare
him, but he was determined to meet his fate.

“ I will listen to you, sir," she said, drawing herself up
slightly. “ Go on."

It was rather an unpromising beginning, and Dnrnier felt it
so ; but he had gone too far to rccede, and broke out into a
passionate declaration of love, which it was hard for any wo-
man to resist. His handsome face, his eloquent eyes, and his
melodious voice combined to make him irresistible ; but Maud
had a safeguard, which proved of potent power, in her growing
interest in Chariesflonyers. _ j _' ’ . . 
“I wish you would  mot Denier; You'onzhtfi

 

  

     

   
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
    
   
   
  
 
 
 

8s m swan? 11mm
know that all this is ridiculous. I can not give you the an
,swer you wish.” '

“ And why? You think I am presumptuous in making this
declaration? Perhaps I am ; but I could not bear to wait un-
til another had seized the prize I covet. Say that I have
some hope, that time may make a change in your feelings, and

. I will dare any thing for your sake.”

“ Let this end at once and forever,” replied Maud. “ I will
never marry a man who has not fought under my flag, for the
freedom of America; certainly I shall never marry one who has
fought against it.”

2‘You give me no hope, then f”

“ It is better to end it at once. You will awake to a sense
of the hopelessness of the attempt sooner or later—I am sur-
prised that you do not know me better.”

“Enough. I do understand you, better than you under-
stand yourself, and I will take means to set myself right. You
are contrasting me with that rebel hound who has disgraced
me, and saying to your own heart that he. is a noblsr man
than I. I say to you, that I will follow him until one or the
other lies dead. This acids new fuel to the hate I hear him.”

“ Do you threaten him in order to frighten me 1’" she
asked. in a contemptuous tone.

“ No; I never threaten. I have made this statement, and I
intend to keep it to the very letter, as you will find before
many weeks. You are one of those who, proud of your
beauty, delight in bringing men to your feet, the better to in-
sult them. You will receive bitter payment in the after
days.

' " I think you have said enough, Major Darnier. Perhaps
~ you had better retire.”

"‘ You shall hear me out, proud girl. I come of a race as
high above yours as the king’s, for the blood of that king flows
in my veins.”

' “ I should not think you would boast of that. King
George is not famous for his wit, I have heart .” I a
L “ Yen will drive mevto do something I shall repent. Take
care of yourself, for there is a lurking devil in my blood which
your cruelty is bringing out. I love you dearly now ; beware:

 widen“ turn M “We hate"

 

 

 

 

 

.vgt

 

 

  

 

run MAJOR TILBEATKNB. 85"

Maud had risen, and stood before him with dilated nostrils,
looking down at him with a glance which seemed to burn in
its intensity. " You drive me to say something I would have
kept. back for your sake, Major Darnier. You are infinitely
the inferior of the man you speak of. As nttle asI know of
him, he seems to me a man of a nobe nature, who would not '
take an ungenerous advantage of an enemy, which you have
done already. More than this, he is fighting for n. principle,
and you for the pay of your boasted ancestry, and I am ready
to trust his arm to protect himself from injury from you
and your fellow-soldiers, if I may dignify them by that noble
name."

“ Silence, mad girl. You do not know what you are saying
or how great an‘ injury you may do yourself if you persist in
such language.”

“I will bear the blame of any thing I may say or do.
Leave the house at once."

“ I am not ready yet," he replied. “ Do you know that in a I

day or two Lord Rawdon will leave Camden, and it only
needs a word from me to leave this house a mass of blackened
ruins? If you care for the home where you have lived so
long, do not drive me to say that word.”

“ Would you do that f”

“ More than that if you drive me to do it. I am a man not
easily beaten, as you will find to your cost. Change your de.
cision, give me a little hope, for you do not know how your
image has haunted me since I first met you.”

“ I shall never change my decision in your favor, sir; and I
Order you to leave this house, or I will call the servants and'
have you turned out like a dog."

“ Do it; but, as surely as you speak that word, you doom your-
self and all you hold dear; for, as surely as you dare to so de-

. grade me, I will have revenge, and that so deep and bitter
that you shall say Ransmn Darnier knows how to avenge a
I  1’

His manner awed her in spite of herself. He did not seem
to be in a passion, and his voice was not raised above its
ordinary tones; yet, in spite of all, there was a solemn
earnestness in his'manner which convinced her that he. meant.
to make no‘ idle threat, “but that she was in easiest? 

\

    
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

:

 

    

 

    

  

I run swamp mourns.

pushed him further. There was a strange fascination in his
eye which kept her silent, looking at him intently. He took
two steps and seized her by the wrist, still keeping her under,
the influence of his eye. The touch seemed to bring back
all her Courage, for she threw him away with a force which
made him stagger.

“Do you dare to lay your hands upon me, sir? Your touch
is pollution,”

“ One thing more,” he said. “ You care for the life of this
blacksmith, it seems; very well, he is a doomed man. When
Major Withers and the others are released, he shall die.”

“Now, you just come along with me l” said a quiet voice.

- “I want you, major.” Both turned quickly, and saw Black-

smith Tom standing just inside the door, looking at them with
a smile.

/ CHAPTER XII.
INTHE FOREST.

MAJOR Dammm staggered back as pale as if a. bullet had
been planted in his bosom, glaring at the imperturhable face of
the blacksmith, whom he had left under lock and key in a
thieklyavalled cellar, with no aperture large enough to allow
him to pass through, and a guard before the only door. Yet,
there he stood, calm and smiling, holding in one hand It long-

' barreled pistol, cooked and ready. Ransom Darnicr was a.
brave man, but the unexpected appearance of the prisoner
unmanned him.

“ You devil," he hissed. “How (lid you escape ?"

“ I knew he’d come here l" said Blacksmith Tom, looking at
Mam , “ and so I followed him. Now, you just come along
with me, will you? I don’t want any finding, and you must.
go hack where you came from, and that's Colonel Charley's
camp in the woods. No tricks now; you're full of ’em.” _

f'“ suppose I refuse to go ‘2” ,
1.. “ we won’t s’pose any thing of the kind, my lad,” replied
q» bhgksmith. coolly. “ 'Tain‘t in the natur’ at thing/:19:

 

. l

mu: sncnn'r DOOR. 8?
an unarmed than to face a loaded pistol. It's an hour yet
before the guard is relieved, and they won’t trouble no one;
I took care of that.”

“ You (lid not kill them ‘9” said Maud, anxiously.

“Not a bit. I only left ’em in such a way that they can't
holler and make a row, until the relief comes. Git ready,
major; I want you, and I ain't got any time to spare.”

A little space will serve to explain the manner of the
blacksmith's csaapc:

When he was returned to the cellar, after the execution
Was stopped by the appearance of Dan Malony, the guard
was left upon the outside. He kept quiet until night came
on, and the sentry admitted Uncle Bun, bringing in supper.
The landlord managed to whisper to him to keep quiet and
wait fcrhitn. Tom ate heartily and winked to his old friend
to intimate that he understood him, and that worthy man
withdrew. carrying out the dishes. An hour passed on and
darkness had fully set in, and Tom had almost made up his
mind to move on his own account, when a wine-cask was
pushed aside, and Uncle Ben appeared at the opening, beck-
oning to him to come on. Tom rose cautiously, and Ben
helped him through the panel, closing the door, and fitting it in
such a way, that even if the cask were moved aside, the
closest inspection would not reveal the door. They were now
in the collar in which the secret meeting had been held, on
the night before the capture of Darnier's train. The chairs
and table were in the same place still. Uncle Ben walked to
a small womlen door at the back of the cellar and passed
through, followed by Tom. The door, being opened, revealed
a subterranean passage extending in the direction of the
stables, through which they passed, stooping low to keep thelr
heads from contact with the stone roof. The passage ended
abruptly in a flight of steps. Ben went up first, and push-
ing a sliding hatchway aside showed that they were in the
stables attached to the tavern. Blacksmith Tom followed
him up, and he closed the hatchway, throwing a quantity of
loose straw over it,concealiug it from vicw.

"‘You needn’t be afraid to speak, Toni,” he said. “ I
lined the door entire inside when Icame in. . Now, you run .
I‘d it.“ "l‘akbtha‘wny across therflehls' and you amall'flghi" 

 

   

    

     

88 Tim swsm- urns-Rs.

“Don’t hurry me too first,” said Tom, coolly. " We’ve
got plenty of time, I allow. I never hurry myself in times
like these. Ain’t there some information to be picked up by
them that's thrifty?”

“ Ruwdon marches in the morning, and he means to push
Greene to the wall,” said Ben.

“ Does he? Now I want to tell you something about that
men Greene. I like him, and that’s a. fact. We’ve got ,a
good many things in common. He is a blacksmith, in the
first place, and he ain’t going to Waste his men, in the next.
He suits me; he goes to work as if he had a long job out
out and meant to take his time. That’s about what he means
to do, and I’ll buck him to worry this man Ruwdon out of
the country. Where’s that darned cuss, Darnier ?”

“ Gone up to Carroll‘s."

“ You don’t mean to say that the gel cores any thing about
Ransom Darnier ?” said Tom, aghast.

' “ Don’t you believe it; she’s got too good sense.”

“' That’s what I thought. The next thing is, where is my
boss ‘2"

“ What? You don't mean to try to get him away 2"

“Don’t I? If you think I’m going to leave Palmetto in
the hands of the Britishers, you are mistaken. He'd break '
his heart it' u red-coat was to ride him, and it can’t be did.
Where is he?"

“ In the other stable."

“ Near which door ‘8”

“ The back."

“ Good enough. Is Major Darnier’s hose any where near
him ?”

“ In the next stable."

“ There. old man. I give you credit for keeping your eyes
open. Let’s go and git them hosses now before we do any
more. Have you got the word for the night ‘1’"

‘9 It is ‘ Ruwdon ’." ’

‘ \ “ You’re u. credit to human nutur’,Uncle Ben, and you have
made my escape as easy as that of a terrapin slitlin’ off a
log. Rnwdon is the word, eh? ( Well, you come and help
me git them liossesnnd then put back to the house,.t‘or they,
may'mtss you." ' '

‘.1.,_.-__..

rsssmo rim mcxn'rs 9

“ No they won‘t. I‘ve give up my room to Giuerul Raw-
don, and I sleep in the stable. I ain’t particular, you know.”

There was a sly drollct'y in his way of saying this, which
touched Tom’s sense of the ludiCrous, and he laughed heartily,
taking care to enjoy himself without making much noise
Ben opened the back door and they slipped out into the stable
yard, and reached the door of the other stable unobserved.
Ben had a key, but that did not suit Blacksmith Tom. He
picked up a thick stick and forced off the staple, so that the
connivnnce of the landlord might not be known. The slight
noise they made aroused o. straggling soldier, and thinking
some chicken-stealing was on hand, he came round the corner
of the barn. and whispered :

" Chickens i'”

“ Yes," replied Tom, in the same tone. “ Come close and
I will tell you.”

The soldier thrust't‘orward his head, when Tom fastened on
his throat with so fierce a grasp that crying out was a physical
impossibility. Ben kept in the background and had not been
seen. Feelings. knife tickling his ribs. the soldier gave in,
when Tom, by the aid of n small piece of cord which he took
from his pocket, gagged him cfi‘cctunlly, and bound him with
his own belts. This done, he rose and led out the two horses,
both of whom behaved well. While Uncle Ben held them,
he lifted the hound soldier, and thrust him into the stall
which had been occupied by Palmetto, and closed the door.

“ Chickens, eh ?" growled Uncle Ben, in ireful tones.
“You won’t steal no chickens this blessed night, and be
blamed to you.”

“ Go bflCk, now," said Tom. “I have the word and can
trust myself to escape. You can’t help me any more, and I
thank you for what you have done. You and I will have
many a. talk over this when the war is ended, if we are alive.
Good-night."

Uncle Ben stole cautiously back to the stable, while Tom,
who knew the ground perfectly, led the horses through the
fields for some distance, letting down the fences as he went,
until he had passed the first line of sentinels. Here he let
dawn a pair of bars, led the animals out into the road, and:
mounted, riding down the road at a quick pace.

u

 

    

  

90 m swam mans.

“ Who goes there 1’” cried a stem voice, and the blacksmith
drew up with a musket leveled at his breast.

“ A friend, with the countersign.”

“ Advance, friend, and give the countersign."

Matthews bent forward, and gave the word in \a low
tone.

“ The countersign is correct,” said the sentry. “ You may
pass."

Matthews rode on, and soon came upon another picket, who
challenged him as before. Tom gave the word and then
entered into conversation with the man for a purpose hastily
formed. He had determined to take Ransom Darnier a
prisoner into camp, and this man and the next. in line might
give him trouble. He determined to put it out of their
power.

“ Major Darnier is at Carroll’s, is he not ?" he said, keep-
ing his face hidden from the picket.

“Yes. There‘s a mighty pretty girl there and the major
has got a big but that he has her promise to marry him and
does marry her, within the year. He bet with Lieutenant-
Colonel Barton, of the rifles, before he left Charleston.”

“ How much was the bet?"

“ A thousand guineas, by Jove. It’s a big pile to risk on so
tricky a thing as a woman. You’d better pass on ; it wouldn’t
do for us to be caught talking.”

Matthews turned as if to go away and the picket turned his
head. This was the moment for which the blacksmith had
waited, and he threw his arm about the neck of the unguarded
man, pressing his knuckles against his throat so hard as to
stop his wind. There was a desperate struggle for a moment.
for the Britisher was a strong man, but he was forced to yield
to the giant strength of the stout blacksmith.

“I‘ve got you, my boy. Now keep quiet, do. What’s the
use of kicking when I've got my claws on your windpipe.
There; cool down, my lad, cool down, and take it easy. Of- *
fer to cry out and you are dead."

The man was open to persuasion, and sufl‘ered himself to be
bound and gagged without any further-\parley. This done,
Tom rode on andtserved the next picket in the same manner.
Having bound him, he laidhim by the roadside, to be out 0!

 

/

A woome lN’TEBRUPTED. 91’

thereach of any stray horsemen who might pass by, and
went directly to Carroll‘s, appearing at the moment when Dar-
nier was using his name in such strong terms, and astonished
him by entering. This is the manner in which it came to
pass that Darnier was interrupted in his wooing.

“ Always, no matter what I am doing, this \vrctch comes be
tween me and my object,” hissed Darnier. “ Give me another
pistol and let us end it here."

“ Not quite so big a fool, mister. Come; I’ve got your hoss

ready.”
“ My horse ?”
“ Oh yes. I knew you’d ruther ride, and I stopped at the

stable and brung him. I got mine too. Come, mount, and
I‘ll just tie your feet with your belt. Good-night, Miss Maud.
Have you any message for one you know of?”

“ Tell him if the enemy leave this section or are driven out
of it—as I pray God they may be—I wish he would come
and see me again.”

“ You needn't send him that message,” said Tom. “ He’d
come any way, for it’s as much as I could do to keep him away
while Rawdon is here.
last night, only he thought he might see you ag’in."

He seized the bridle of the other horse with his left hand
and rode aw'ay. Darnier never turned his head to look at her,
but his eyes burned with a light which boded no good to those
who had so disgraced him. The course they took was in the
same direction taken by the two Whigs when pursued by
him on the night when the Whig colonel met Maud Carroll.
Darnier kept his eyes about him and saw that they turned
into the same opening in the woods into Wthll Cunningham’s.
men had gone, so many of whom never returned. They
passed over the battle-ground in a darkness like that of Egypt.
and Darnier was trying to free his feet from the belt. in which
they were confined, when the Whig stopped and gave utter-
ance to a wild signal-whistle, which sounded with fearful dis-
tin'ctness through the dim arches of the woods. He waited a'
moment, when the cell was answered in the distance in the

. same way. .

“ You understand the game of hide-and-seek well," said Dar;
flier. “ else we had won this battle long ago."

He'd uevur have charged the picket“...

 

," “Wile. Push on“, Dam”

33 was: swm RIDERS.

" All means are fair when a brave people are struggling for
their liberties," repiicd the blacksmith in an impressive tone.
“ Come on.”

He urged his horse forward, still retaining his hold upon
the bridle of the other, and slyly laughing at his futile attempts
to free his feet, until they reached the brink of a. large creek
which flowed through the forest upon the borders of a deep
swamp. Here Matthews stopped again and uttered the pecuo
liar whistle he had used before.

“ All right, me b‘y," cried a voice in the rich brogue which
there was no mistaking. “ Who is it?"

“ Blacksmith Tom, with a prisoner,” replied that wor-
th .

5‘7‘Hurroo i” yelled Dan. " Och. the saints be good t’ye.
May ye live till the tail av yer coat beats out your brain. and
ye dhrop into your grave.”

“ All rightLDan. Bring over the flat and help us across
I’ve got horses.”

A large flat-boat, which had been concealed in the bushes
upon the other side, was pushed out by two men and soon
reached the shore. The horse of Tom, used to this mode of

wtransit, walked quietly on board, but the other hung hack and

had to be almost drugged upon the flat. Dun had a torch
which he held up so as to get a view of the face of the pris-
oner.

“ Good-averting to your ’an’r,” he 'said.
I am to see ye ng'in.”

“Don’t bother him, Dan. He has got trouble enough with-
out that. Is the colonel in camp ?” V

" Yes; an’ be wur just goin’ to start out an’ save ye or lose
his life.”

“ The colonel thinks a heap of me,” said Tom, “that‘sa
fact. But he don’t think no more of me than I do of him.
Have you got a handkerchiefI major i”

“ Why do you ask ‘3”

“ I've got to blindfold you and I thought you’d like to have
me do it with your own rag. That’s the reason. Oh, here it
is; hold your head straight or I shall never get it on. Hold‘
up the light, Dun, and let me look. Now we are compact and

“ It’s mighty glad

    

 
 
 

  

A snow? or wnLoom. 08

The flat was pushed off and soon landed on the other shore.
After half an hour’s travel over a rough and tangled way, the
bandage was removed and the major found himself in the
camp of the Swamp Rangers.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE WAGER LOST.

A WILD shout from the assembled band woke the echoes of
that forest home, when they saw who entered with Dan Ma.-
lony, and a hundred honest hands were outstretched at once,
to grasp that of the blacksmith, who returned their greeting
warmly. '

“ Thank ye, boys, thank ye hearty,” he said. “ It goes to
the heart to meet with such a. welcome, when I had come so
nigh to taking my ticket out. Make way, lads; I want to
see the colonel."

The boys looked rather grimly at the major, who had taken
French leave on the day of his capture, without the form of
giving up his parole. He did not raise his head, but passed
sullenly on, paying no heed to the mnrmurings of the men
about him, who were pleased to see him back again.

- , The camp was asequestered place in the woods, approached

by tangled and devious paths, but, when reached, one of the

' most beautiful spots the sun ever shone upon. To this place

Charles Conyers had fled, when his troop had been broken

up in one of Sumter’s battles, and recruited them. Dashing

out half armed, he had succeeded in arming them by a single

* bold effort, and since that time had made his name famous

‘ ‘ all along that border. He was sitting in a rough cabin, which

had been set up for his accommodation, and was reading a

dispatch just sent in from Greene’s army head-quarters, when

a rap came at the door, and a man entered with a joyful

' face. ‘
 " What is it i’" said Conyen. r , . H . 
.  " " Hickman: Tom-e"  e i

E .

 

  

.1 run swsnp RIDERS.

“ If they have hung him, these officers are doomed I" cried
Conyers, crumpling the dispatch in his hand. '

“ It is not likely they’ll hang him until they catch him
again," said the man. “ He has just come in with a prisoner,
and wants to report.”

“ Thank God l Have him in at once. I might have known
that the dear old fellow would get out somehow. Ah, here
he is.” .

He darted to the door and seiZed the blacksmith eagerly by
the hand.

“ Welcome back, old friend. I thank God I see you safe
out of your dangers, and back among your friends. We missed
you sorely, but I would have had you out of that or slept with
you.” .

“ That's friendly," said Tom, turningr away his head. “I
might have expected as much from you. But, you will want
to see my prisoner. Bring him in, Dan.”

Dan appeared at the door, ushering in Major Darnier, with
the same sullen expression upon his thee.

. “ How did you fall into the hands of our worthy friend the
blacksmith ?” said Conyers. “ Welcome to our forest homo,
major.” '

“ Ay, scoff at me, devil that you are l" hissed Darnier. “ It
is your turn now, and Satan do you good with it. He has
helped you, tithe after time; all my plans have recoiled upon
my own head and all through you and your satellites But,
I warn you that this can not last forever; my turn must come
some day."

“ I can not say that I am sorry to see you here, tnnjor,vyet
I would not exult over you. Whatever your reason may have

been, you have pursued me with vindictive animosity since
the first clay we met.”

“\I could put a. flea into your ear with regard to the reason
of it," said Tom. “ I'll let you know before the day is out
In the mean time, what shall we do with him 1’"

“ Stop,” said Darnier, raising his hand. “ Rebel and traitor,
I will tell you why we hate each other, and you shall tell me
if there is a stronger reason under the sun. We love the same
woman. You start at that, and would perhaps say that you
never spoke of love to Hand Carroll; It maybe trno,but

 

 

 

 
  
 

    

V_.-w we, .9. _'

s s, ' 

J‘I-zr'".

 

 
  
   

   

  

THE GUARD-noose. 95

you are not the less my rival. ,We can not breatheth same

air as friends; let that be understom ."
Conyers smiled slightly, and (lid not speak for a moment.

'When he spoke, his voice was very calm, but there was a quiet

look in his eyes.

“ We will not discuss that subject now," he said. ‘f How
I may regard that noble girl, or how she may think of me,
is nothing to our common enemies. She is too mneh in love
with the grand cause I follow to think of tiny other love until
the country no longer groans under the tread of liireling feet.
Take the major to the guard-house and see him properly se-
cured. I can not give you your parole again, major."

.“ I do not ask it. I would break it again if you did.”

“ That has at least the merit of frankness. When you have
seen the prisoner safely placed, Tom, come back to me."

Tom was not gone long, and on his return he sat down
with the colonel and gave him an account of what had passed
since he fell into the hands of the enemy. The colonel list-
ened with attention, and his fine eyes brightened when he
heard the message of Maud to him. He began to hope that
this sweet girl might learn to love him,and if he survived
the struggle for liberty, bless him with her hand. But, he
had little time to give to such thoughts, for business of im-
portance was at hand.

“We march at early (lny,Tom," he said. “ A dispatch has
just come in from Greene to that efl‘ect. See that every thing
is ready, and then try to get a. little rest before morning.”

Major Darnier found A friend in the room of the rude
guard-house in which he was confined. This wus Walter Bil-
too, who was boiling over with rage against the“ cursed Yun-
tme " who refused to take his parole. He was rather pleased
than otherwise to see Darnier. The door was locked, und
they were left to themselves.

“ \Ve nre having bad luck," said the lieutenant. “But,
keep quiet, and I will show you that I have been busy. Did
you notice where the guard is posted ?”
I “ One at the door and one at the window.

“ Just as I thought. Then wait an hour und you shall

1!

‘mn

'; banter said‘ no more, but waited in moody silence forjthe

 

 
 

  
   
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
    
  
 

   

Q6 THE SWAMP RIDERS.

development. At that hour of night when every thing seems
asleep, Bilton rose and touched his companion. The lieutenant
approached the door and looked through the keyhole. The
guard stood near by, leaning on his rifle, and humming a low
tune, his thoughts far away with the girl he loved.

“This way," whispered Bilton. “I have improved my

nights."
He turned his face to the wall, which was formed of rough a
logs, and managed to climb up to the roof upon the side or.» t
posite the door. This roof was of bark, and he had worked
at it until he had loosened a broad piece in such a way that L
by the exertion of a little strength he could force it back and '
allow him to pass through. Indeed, if Darnier had not come
he had intended to make his escape that night. He crept out 1
upon the roof and lay prostrate until Darnier had followed
him. Then he approached the euves cautiously and looked
down. The guard was in the same position, and still hummed
his low song. Creeping to the other side, they dropped to
the ground without noise and waited. They heard no sound, _
y and silence reigned about the camp. Then, crawling like ser- ‘ '
pents along the ground, they reached the edge of the woods,
into which they plunged with a keen sense of relief, and ris-
ing, shaped their course by the camp-tire and run until they
reached the bank of the creek. By good fortune they struck
it just at the point where the flat-boat lay. They pushed it
0 ofi’ and gained the other side.
“ I kntw the way now," cried Darnier, shaking his fist in
the direction of the camp, “ and God forget me it" I do not make ~
Borrow to yonder hell-brood before they have done with me.
Come on, Bilton. Both of us will be footsore before we reach
the camp.” -
Their escape was not known until morning, and was borne
philosophically by the young colonel.
“ What will be, will be, Tom,” he said, hearing the report.
“ The fellow is bound to slip through our fingers somehow
No matter; we have other fish to fry. Prepare to mount;
mount. Forward, march l” and the brave band marched
away to new scenes of glory. ‘

 

 
   
         
     
   
   
   
      

Heaths passed away, and Maud had not heard of either it

 
 

 

  
 

  

   
 
 
 
 

   

 

m D156 ms]: PENE’l'RA’l‘ED. 9?

hex-lavas. She had heard rumors of battles fought to the
north, of chivalrous deeds by the partisans, and her young
lover was the mark of much abuse on the part of the Tories
and praise on the part of the Whigs. One night, sitting on
the veranda, she was startled by a low cough, and looking
up quickly, saw the Yankee who had misled Darnier upon
the first. unfortunate meeting with that worthy’s troops, stand-
ing not far away, looking at her with an odd smile. _

‘vaenin‘, miss; evenin’,” he said, bowing and scraping,~
“ How du y’u du ?"

“ I am well,” she said, looking at him in some astonishment.
“ Where did you come from, and what do you want here ?"

“ Wal, that’s tew questions tu answer tn onc‘t. I come
from up above, an’ I've got a letter fer y’u, I guess. That is,
el‘ yure name is Miss Maud Carroll."

“That is my name. Give me the letter, and rest while I
read it.”

The Yankee accepted the invitation. and sat shifting his feet
uneasily from side to side while she read. The letter was
from Charles Conyers, and said that she might expect to see
him within two days, as by that time every British soldier
would be far below Camden, and he was ordered to march.
“I send this by u trusty hand, and hope you will treat him
well for my sake,” he added, in conclusion. She looked at
the Yankee, who grinned broadly, and was about to speak,
when the heatof hoofs startled them, and Darnier, with a body
of some fifty horse, dashed up to the house before the Yankee
had time to draw back out of sight. I

“Now by all that is lucky, well met, my worthy Yankee,"
cried the dragoon. “I hope I see you well. Excuse me,
Miss Maud, but we have met before."

“ Yams," said the Yankee, with a broad grin. “ I knOWed
him sfore. Heow de du."

“ Permit me to ask you a question or two in reference to
the manner in which you led my troop into a trap at the
time of which you speak," said Daruier. “Come down
here." '

The Yankee obeyed reluctantly, and Darnier looked at him
closely. Where had he seen that stalwart figure, but in edif-
larant garb, before this time; A cry escaped him, and head'-

 
 

I ' TEE swm mmms

ing forward, he seized the long tow hair of the Yankee firmly

and gave. a tug. Ofl' came cap and wig, and Blacksmith Tom
stood revealed l

“Seize him 1” shrieked Darnier.
cape."

A dozen hands seized the blacksmith, who, seeing the use-
.lessness of making any struggle, stood unmoved among them,
answering nothing to their insults, but by his calm look (is;

tied them to do their worst.

“ Bring a rope here," cried Darnier, when he was secured.
“ The scoundrel has done his last wickedness on the earth.
Drug him under yonder tree and string him up.”

“Wait,” cried Maud. “Surely you would not be so in-
human."

“ Wait a moment," said the major, dismounting.
him until I come out.
within."

He took her hand and led her into the house, while she
trembled in dread of what was to Come. “ I have but. one
short proposition to make to you,” he said. “ I shall make it
but once. Here are writing materials ready to your hand.
Write out a promise to marry me whenever I choose to ask
you, and yonder blacksmith shall go free. Refuse, and I will

, hang him upon the tree under which he stands.”

“ You could not, you could not.”

“ Your nnswor quickly; I have no time to waste in idle
words. If you refuse to be my wife, I swear to you that I
will make it so that you shall beg me on your knees to marry
you. Answer at once.”

“ I will not marry you, nor would yonder noble man accept
the sacrifice at my hands.”

“ Enough. Come out. then, and see him die,” cried Dar-
nier, seizing her by the wrist. in a fierce clasp. “ Ho, there 1
Up with him i" ‘

The wretehes hastened to do his bidding, but while they
adjusted the rope about his neck, a Voice cleuras a bugle cried
“ Charge 1" and with a battle-cry which Darnier’s men had of?-

‘ten heard before, the Swamp Rangers swept down upon them,
riding them under without mercy. In the maléc, Charlescom
you met Walter Bilton face to face. » '

“ Quick, or he will es-

“Keep
Miss Maud, I will speak to you

    

 
    

 

 

 

 

 

 
   

 

 

 

 

 

   
  
 
 
 

    

 

 

  

m on: STORY row. ‘9!

,“ New, Wretch,” he cried, “take your doom." 7

Hilton caught the flash of that trenchant saber, and lifted
his arm to ward ofl‘ the blow. It was vain. Down he went,
cloven to the chin, and over his body rode the \Vhig leader,
shaking his gory blade in air. When the battle was over.
and it did not last long, they found Darnier lying wounded
just at the foot of a great tree, struck down by a stray bullet
He raised himself feebly and breathed the name of Maud.
She came and bent over him.

“ I have lost my wager,” he gasped. “ But, you drove me
mad. I think I have my death-wound. Good-by, friends
andzfoes."

With these words he fainted, and they carried him into
the house. He lived, but would never be able to take the
field again, and was invalided and sent home. They never
saw him again, but heard of him in the House of Commons,
us 1 lender in debate, and the strong arm of the Tories.

During the tumult Tom Matthews had slipped away, and
no one could find him. Charles took Maud Carroll’s hand
and walked with her into the parlor. And there, while the
men waited, he told her the story old as Adam, yet al~
ways new to many, and she did not say him nay, but whis-
pered, that when he had done what he could for the flag, she
would be his wife. While they talked. there came a rap at
the door and a Well-known figure stalked in. It was the man
they had known as Gabriel with the sheet thrown over his
shoulders. .

“ I am Gabriel I" he cried. “I snuff blood in the air."

“That is masquerading enough, Tom,” said the colonel.
“ We need hide nothing from her now.”

“ Hooray I” cried the stentoriun voice of Tom Matthews,
as he flung away his sheet and rubbed off the ocher and
charcoal from his face. “I’m glad of that Well, hid her
good-by, colonel. I'll step out while you do it, and then let
us away to new labors. The end is not yet."

“You have seen two of the many disguises worn bylhis
wonderful man,” said Conyers. “ Bay nothing of what you have
seen to any one, for there is still much work to do. And
when the war is over, I will come to claim my own."

They kissed and parted-he, to do his work in the butt]!

 

  

100 THE SWAMP nmnna.

before him, and to fight beside Tom Matthews, Dan Melony
and the rest, and she to wait and watch for that brighter day
when these laureled heroes could come safely home, to betuI
the honors they had so nobly gained. The deeds of Thomas
Matthews have no place in history, and to redeem them from
oblivion these chronicles are written.

 

 

 

 
 

  

u ‘

  

 

   
    
 
   
   
 
   
   
   

’ other booLo ln llzo Inorkolv at nnv prico, can

 

EHME

For School Exhibitions an

SEANDARD ._

DIALOGUE

S

:1 Home Entertainments.

1“] toil tulnllvo. I! to 95 Popular Dlnlnguoo lull Drum-I In ouch boo}. Book '91“. )«
limo pogoo, um poor-pom, on romlpt ol‘ prioo, ton unto.

Beadle & Adams. Publilhel‘h 98 Win18! Sta 8’. Y.

,_____._——-—.
Thou volumoo hnvo boon proporod with ooperlnl nfonnco to their oulloblllty (or 15mm
:uloro With or ulllmut the l‘urnlluro of 1 nap, and Inllod to BC

Mlu Ado lad to «haul: nnd i
All; AN YOUNG PEOPLE o! ovory

ombol

ll wit, yothuo, humor nu! untlulont.

DIME DIALOGUES. N0. 1.

Math; of tho Mono. For nlno ynung lmlioo. llobnnbhlng. F0
Down. I leo Englishman For thruo lmyo. Tho Soorot 0! Sue
'l‘ouo’n Comm-Lion. For nulo oud tomlo. \ aun America.

ruhlon. For two lodlu.

Thu Rohonronl. Fur Iix bnvl.

Which wlll you Choc"! For lwoboyo.

Tho noon of Mn. For thlilllo girlo.

Tho on-Puty. h‘nrlourlodioo-

Throo Sconoo ln Wodrlod Lilo. Mnlooml hmnlo.
Mn. Snlflu’ Conloooion. For mole Ind l‘omnlo.
Tho Mlulon o! tho Splrlto. l-‘lva young lull-o. i

DIME DIALO

Tho Goa,“ n! Llhorty. I molu onrl I fomolo.
or. Tho “Mo on slipp
Dull Goo

"ml chorocton.
Tho oldon Rulo. Two mo! o and two lomnlu.
hoGlfl o! lllu l’olry Quoan. Sovorol “mill”.
okon lo and Dam or. For two

9
H
E:
z
9.

  

.E
I
=
r.
m
o
v,
I
n

hornets".
m Country AuI-t'o V'n tto tho Cl y. For m.
chorutorl.
Tho Two Romano. For two mill".
Tryln tho Clmrortoro. For three mllol
Tho I pv FlmllV. For Iovornl ‘nnl
Tho BIKINI. l-‘u', oovorol ohorncten.
DIME DIALO
my Qnul. For on onllro school.
Rolorm Convon . For ton femllu
“ping Bnd Comm . A Tun. Forfiru
Courting Undor D ultioo. loo, I (on

Notlonol Roprooontotlveo. A Iurléoqno. I out".
loooptog tho Dron- For nuuurouo molco.

 

 

     

    

DIME DIALOGUE!

     

JOIIP lno'o Doltlny.
Tho Folly 0’ th- Duel. For lhrro mill."
Dogmnlluu.
Tho lgn

ltlono, .

ll nmlo oml {om-l0. It ll Inlr to ouumo that n
d:

u no nun)- uool‘ul and oulloblo dlologuu Ind

  
  
   

on. onomnlo.

For umomolo opukero.

aunt Confoundod. Forlwo ho

Tho hut Ynun Man. Fovtwo moloo.

'l'ho Yonr‘o Rrr onlng. I! fomolu Ind! mllo.

Tho Village with Ono Goutlom. For olght lo-
mnlol and ouo mnlo. I

GUES N0. 2.

How to \‘rilo ‘ Pnpnlnr' Storloo. Two
Thu Newnml the (IN. For two moluo.
A Somali-m n Loot. For \wo molro.
Tho Greonlmrn. For two molrl.

Tho Time Mon of Srlunrn. For {our moloo-
The Oh. Lndy’o Will. For four mnlu.

Tho Litllo Phil on hon. For two llltlo gull.
How to Flint In l olr. For flvo viola. ‘
l-‘nr olx young lodlu.

uoloo.’

Tho Vlrluoo.
A Connuhlnl Ecloguo. ‘
Tho l'ubllc meeilug. l'lvo Inqu and ooolouolo.
Tho Engllnh Truvolol’. For two lulu.

GU33, N0. 3.

Tho Genlool Cook. For two moleo.
Muurploco. For two moloo on two (mobs\
Tho Two Romlno. For two moloo.

Tho Sumo. Soot-Ml ooono. For two III-loo. .
Shole lho Whiu Fonthor. I mnloo, l (om
Tho Boluo Coll. A Rods-tin. For on. 1.4.,

NO. 4.

The Stu h‘olown Voluntoor. 9 moloo, 1 (undo.

 

ho hoot Kill}. for toll or moro pomuo.
hill ll Ll o. 'l hroo moloo nml tvm fomoloo. A Stone {mm “ Paul l‘ry." For four mlloo.
olth, n and Chority. For thrto lillJo gi l' mm. For Ihroo m-loo um] um (om-lo.
Dub “noon. For two mnlu om! 0m) loin luck And Broom. For thrco lllllo Irll.
Tho oy. A Floral Foucv. Forolx lilt'u girl-n 1 Light Wny. AColloquy. For two oyo.

Tho Encllnnud Prlncou. ‘1moloo.lovornl Inn-loo
flour to “'lmm Honor Io Duo. 1 In
'l'ho Gentlo Client. Furoovoul um

W103}. A Diocnoolon. For twonly mnloo.

DUKE DIALO

Tho 'l'laroo Guouoo. For uhool or orlor.
Summon. A " Throo l‘ounm’ " o co.
MIMI tho Cunnln. For mnloo Ind {can u.
Pl Socloty. Hvo boyo and I touhor.
:x'anlllnotlo? Doy. Iroruvor-l {oi-nulolehuuurl
a la ‘ 'l‘ro ’ Foruvoro mo n.
11:08:ng Boyofi'rlhnol. Fur ton boyo.
A boon Tonguo. Sour-l moloo Ind hind“.
80' Hot to Got on Aunt. For two lomloo.

 

 

Who! lho Ledtrer Suyl. For two mill-I. V
The Crlluoo m! Drou. A Culloquy. Fnr twnboyo,
’l‘l-.o Roword of Bonovolrnoo. For {our Ind". '
Tho haunt. For two moloo.

arms, no. 5.

Pnttlng on Mn. A colloquy. For two noloo.

Tho Smilghv. Mark. For uovorll lmn.

Two Moon 0! Lilo. A Colloquy. Fur Ina ‘lrk.

Exlrort from Mulno Follow.

MI—lrv-Monoy. An Auloo Chonulo.

Tho Six V For olx mung lmlioo.

ght hlohmou It Homo. or two mol
uhlonohlo Roqulnmonto. or tlluo girlo. ‘

A Bovy at M (Eyoo). For' torluol'mlogtrlo

5
:-

 

DIHE DIALOGUES, IO. 6.

fioWo 1’! R t oSorrot. Molo loll (om-loo.
150,521 ugf ancultin. For In noloo.

"I. [or o lo oolmol.
HIM: mun-1.. “I m moloo.
ot Glluoro. Molo on tomoloo.

Tho Two Coooooloro. For (hm moloo.
Tho Vonrioo of Fall » For A number of”
Iomoloo om! two uloli

mmaw- m
o t- or two nod
auto Clou For I mgr of a. a

noun-.4

mm :M‘I‘fi?

 

Va“ .
Wm“

‘ “to-ho.

p

  

Dun school Sorter-Dialoguu.

DIME DIALOGUEB No. 26.

Mention. Threeladiu And two gentlemen.

Mountains and Innio-hiiil. Six indies and uverni I

lu‘echwn.
A test thin did not fnli. Six bore.
Two wnyl oi uni-lg thingi. Two little iril.
Don‘t noun: your chick-um bciure I. my ure
hatched. Four indies nud a hay.
All is rfllflrl love and wnr. 3 indiu. 9 entiemen.
How uncle Josh not fill ! the legacy. fine main,
7 with lever-Ii tron-formation;

The lenon of mercy. Two very small girl.
ti - whnt yon prench. Four iullu.

   
  

Puliti . Numerous clulrnclere.

'l‘he cnnvneling agent. 'l‘wn maioe and we
{unwill-

Grnh. Two mulel.

A Iliuht scare. Three remain And one mole
Elubbdlrd Iumhine. Three young lumen.
How J in: Penn died. 1 we main.

DIME DIALOGUES No. 27.

PM O’Dowd’l umpeign.
md'one femnla.
filmy lnfcrencu not niwnyl jun.

ayn.
Discontentul Annie. For Ieverni zirin.
A double Inrprile.
Wiut mu itl For five indiel.

Whni will euro theml For A lady and two boye. Au enlurced curr.

lmiepanduul. For numeroul characters.
Each I-snwn the best. For four boy--

Tl‘lt'd nnd fnuml wnnting. For zen-ml mainl-
A boy’s yiot. For neural chorocton.

Fum- male: and one femnie.

For three mules The “reel giri'n good angel. For two lndin IM

two little girll.

Numerom "'l‘hnt ungrniefui iilllp niggrr.” For two melee.

ii'I hnd illu money. For three little girin.
Appenrnncen Ire deceitful. For never!) iodi-
nnrl om: gentleman.

ve‘s piulcst. For two little girie.

For never-i chnrncterl.
Thule wlm prolch nnd thou who perform. Fol
three lillIlel.

A gentle conquest. For two young girie.

DIME DIALOGUES No. 28.

A mt that told. For elx young iedln and two
gentlemen.

Organizing ll debating moiety. For four boyl.
The Awakening. For four litlie glril.

'l‘he rehulu proper. For 3 (entiemen, ‘2 ladies.
Ixnrnising an evil nplrit. For lix imiiu.

lath lidee of the fence. For (our mnlee.

I'll- eyiritl oi the wood. For two troupe. of girle.

DIME DIALO

No mm {or the drone. For three ill-ii! boy'-
Arm-chnir. For numemul rhnrncu'
Men-“re for menlure. For (on! girl
Saved by A dream. For two main Ind tun
femniel.

An infallible Iign. For four boys.

A gooduue (or moner. For rix little irll.

Au ngreenhin prvieuion. For lever-l I: one“

   

 

 

GUES No. 29.

Who shall he" the dictionary! For elx typical lSimpie Simon. For four llule burl.

mule chnrnetere nnd two familial.
the tut of bravery. For {our boy: and “other.
Fortunn’n wheel. For {our mule ehlrncterl.
The little nelhetel. For |Ix little giril.
tin.- yu end no of smoke. For three little bare.
No rci‘ereucu. Six gentlemen nnd three indies.
An nxnulng good her. One mule, nne femnle.
W hat a violation did. For uverai indies.

DIME DILLO

ibie heron. For five young lndiel.

.. ‘ miormi ” lecture. For four mulee.

.‘ .ihon. Fur five iiltiu how.

I. 1:: nt homo. Fur three liiLle ziril.

i-uhernmn’u luck.
lemme-I.

Why he didn’t hire him. For eeveni “ cher-
iich-ri.’

A («innate mistake. For le young lmllu, one '
little girl and n boy.

An ainhnbetiml menngerie.

Iii: higher mlncnlion. For eight ho I.

  

 

Jim Broderlvh’q lesson.

The niher ride of the stnrr.

For two male: and three Tim inst thnt mid.
\

Learning fro n evil.

The red light. For four mniel. twn femalu.
The Iwutent thought. Fnr Innr little rifle.
Tho Inhnmnn monster. 6 ladies, 1 premium“.
Three little (ooh. For {our email hove

Beware of the dogl For three ludiel had thrle
" dodgers."

Jae Hunt's hunt. For two boy» and two girle.
Rum. For nix union.

GU25 No. 30.

Cut nml dag. For twn little anal.
The mlhere cured. Fur ‘2 Indies and 3 gertiemfl
Fur Um lmyn.
i'nr rive («mulch
Fnr iiw- "min.

For three genllemln run

For five boys.
For tun boyl and threw

Vr-nin: by proxy.
two indies

l'he tenchor'l rune.
glrll.

For n whnie uhool. Colim‘ny of nations. For eleven penonnton.

 

l'he vieiuitudu at a milliner. For n: tannin.

Addition-i person-tin": for ‘ Gnddeu of Liberty!

A Iconic piece in Dialogue No. 24.

a The We boob ere told by New!!!“ everywhere, or will be Ill, pawn-id. 

“II-InifloiyfluJOuntt each. ,

“my... 99 women-.31.;

   

 

 

    
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DIME POCKET NOVEIJS.

. PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY. AT TEN CENTS EACH.

1 Hewkere Hurry.
Dead Shot.

I The Boy Miners.

4 Blue Dick.

5 Net Wollo-

6 The White Trucker.

'I The Outlnw’u VVifo.

8 The Tail Trapper.

o Lightnin .10.

10 The lulnud Pirate.

11 The Boy Ranger.

ii lieu the Tapper.

la The 'Fronch spy.

M Iona Shot.

15 The Gunmlker.

16 Rod Hand.

17 Ben. the Tripper.
18 Wild Raven.

19 The S tar ("hi-I.
90 The I: ur-Kiilrr.

91 Wild Nut.

92 ludl-n .lo.
23 Old Ken
74 Ono-E Tum...
95 Godbo , the hp}.

26 Tirolfilick Ship.

11 Sing e

R indiun My;

39 TholSeEut.

10 0 ye.

31 'fi: Myltie Cuuoe.

if) The Golden HMme

‘ The Scalp King.
Old LEM.

Relnbnit, Ranger.
The Bay Pioneer.
Canon, the Guide.
The Held. Enter.
Wauai. the Scout.
The Huge Hunter.
Wild Nat, Trapper.

' Lynx-cap.

. The White Outluv.
The Dog Trnller.
The Elk King.

' Adrian, the Pilot.
The Mun-hunter.
The Phantom Trucker
.‘Lmtin Hill.

The WulfQuuen.
Tom Han Treiler.
- The Med Chief.
‘ The Black Wall.

the Ranger.

liJiIlcY Hem.

 

Ml Cluuilwixod.

59 The Texas Hnwlu.

60 Mercilen Mat.

6| Mud Ant’ony's Scout!

6‘) Luckleee Traps-2r.

63 The “mid: . rout.

M The kind Tripper.

66 Wolf-Cap.

66 Rnttliu Dick.

6'! Sharp- yo.

68 iron-Huid.

69 The Yellow Hunter.

10 The Phantom rider.

’ll Del-were Tom.

’12 Silver Rifle.

73 The Skeleton Scout.

1‘ Littla Rifle.
75 The “‘00-! Witch.
7. Old Rufl' Tr: iper.
11 Scarlet Shani en.
'18 Bordor Rifiemnn.
'II Outlnw luck.
80 Tiger-Tell, Seminole.
til D-nth-Dnier.
8? Kenton, the Ranger.
83 S tor Horumnn.
841‘ a Three Truppers
85 Knioolah.
he Hunter Herruiul.
hil Humor.
The Indinn Smut.
The Girl Avenger.
Thu Rid Hermitees.
Star-Flee, the Sldhr.
The Antelope Boy.
The Phnntom Hunter.
Tom Pintle. Pill t.

i The Rad \Vizsrd.
The Riv-l Trxippers.
The Squaw Spy.
Dusky Dick.

99 Colonel Cmckelt.
100 Old Beer Paw.
101 Rodi-w.
10? “Wild Rube.
103 The ludinn Hunters.
104 Surred Eagle.
105 Nick Dnyie.
1116 The indinn Spy.
101 Job Dean.
108 The Wood King.
109 The Scalped Hunter.
110 Nick the Scout.
111 The Texu Tiger.
11‘! The Crossed Knives.
[13 Tiger-lienrt.

1H Masked Avenger.

 

115 The Purl Pirate].
116 Black Punther.

117 Al:diel,theAvens:er.
118 Cute. the Crer er.
119 Two-Ilende I\ at.
1'20 )lad Trail Hunter.
121 Blutk Nick.

1'2"} Kit liird.

123 The S orier Riders.
124 Glen! 5316.

1'15 The Girl Cnpllin.
1‘26 Yanheu Eph.

177 Silvtrspur.

1‘25 5 nutter Dick.

1‘19 '1' a Child Spy.

130 Mink Colt.

131 Red Plume.

18‘) ClydeI the Trailer.
133 The Lon Cube.

134 The Cnnulbei Chief.
I35 Knniho.

I36 Scuriet Moecuin.
13'! Kidnnpped.

1:18 Meld of the hlounv

tun.
139 The Scloto Stan“.
N.) Border Renegade.
141 The Mute Chief.
N2 Bnone, the Hunter.
143 Mnuntein Rate.
144 The Red Sniper.
145 The Lone Chief.
146 The Silver Bugle.
141 Chinzn, Chey- fine.
i.

151 The Branded

15? Billy Bowie .

153 The Valley cont.
154 Red Jacket.

156 The Jungle Scout.
156 Charoher Chief.

157 The Bandit Hermit.
111K The Pnlriut Scout:
159 The Wood Range"!
160 The Red Foe.

161 Beautiful Unknown.
162 Cunehr-ke Mom.
163 HunkI the Guide.
164 The Border Scout.
165 Wild Nut.

180 Muid of Wyoming.
167 The Three Captives.
168 The Lent Hunter.
1% Border Law,

170 The Lima Trnil.

Tlli’. FOLLOWlNG WlLL BE ISSUED 1N THE ORDER AND ON THE

2‘15
225 (In the
227 lrurm.

Dee .

22" The Mountaineer.

229 T 1
230 1

TI' S h l ‘lklll Rangers.
0 c ‘ 3 By Razor Starbuck. Reed
13v E n-nrri 5. Ellis.

re Golden Belt.

By Edward Willett.

llunter‘n lineups. Br Edw-rd S. Ellie.

By Colin linker.

By the Author of“ Quindnro."

Rendv March th

February 20th.
lleedy Much 90th.
Ready April 8d.

Ready April 17th.

231 The .3“ amp Bldere. By George D. Gilbert. Reedy Muy int

232 Juliet Iluwk.

233 Mun-neon“ liar-slicer.
231» The Mini Hunter.
285 The “cell-r of ’76.
286 Antelope Abe, the Buy Gu de.

By Harrv Cavgnd ilh .
By w

li_\‘ (‘. Dunning Clark. Rendy Mny 15th.
By A. J. H. Duguune. Ready Mly Nth.
Bv Mn. Mary A. Denlsnn.

Randy June 12th.
Randy June 96th.
iii Dexiar.

111 The Trader Spy.

172 The Foreet Specter.
173 The Border Fore.
17‘ Border Vengeance.
175 Border Belem.

176 The Son: 0! l.ihert_\.
177 The Lent Bride.

113 Kceteeu.

119 The Tonkn-n Spy.
180 The Preirle Scnurgb.
181 Red Li liming.

1112 Burn urt.

163 Night Hewk Kit.
154 Murmur: Sam.

18! Hurricane Bill.

186 The Red Cull-w.
18" The Swamp Scout.
188 The Shuwnee's F0.-
189 Mnhnwk Nit.

190 Old Jupe.

191 The Prairie Biln.

‘ m 014 Kyle, rm)...

193 Big Foot. the Guido.

1106 Rod Brotherhood.

196 The Man in Gym.

196 Gian—Eye, the Greet
Shnt.

191 Tho PnirieTrn pm

1548 Blnck John. V

199 goen-sznife.

200 u‘l ipper.

‘20] The Young Spy.

M The ludl-n Avenger.

903 Rival Mouton-"tn.

704 The Swamp Riflru.

‘105 The Balloon So I

906 Dru:th Stourge.

201 The Twin Seoutl.

908 Bucklkln Bill.

909 Border Avengers.

210 Tim Humble‘e Cher}.

‘211 Thu Shun." Scout.

‘11? The Silent Slnyer.

1‘13 The Prairie Queen.

714 The Redwood-men

915 Thu Priwnor of LI
Vintmu

916 Paley Smith.

ill The “'itch of the
Wnliowl-h.

918 The Prnirlo Pinion.

719 The Hue-Ir Captain.

910 The Red S y.

991 Dick Dnrl ng.

$22 Multan: Hunk".

9‘73 Guilty or Not Guilty

it‘ll The Outlnw Ranger.

 

DATES INDICATED:

Reedy Fobmnry 6th.

eriy Jul ~1mh.
‘28? The Hunter": Vow. By Loui- Le Grnml. NJ). Ready .luh' 34th.
28" The llunler‘! Pledge. liy Edward Willem. Remix August 7th.
2.19 I‘nltlL-pnte, llv .Sth R. Sherwood. Rendv Auzun 715:.
2-10 The Prairie Bride. By Mrs. Henry .1. Thmnna. Reudy September uh.
For sale by nil Nfiwnnieniers; or rent poet-puid: Iingle numben, ten can“; eix monthe (11 Not.) $1.95 
one you (26 Non.) $2.51).

BEABLE AND ADAMS, Publlehere, 98 William Street, New York: