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FY | # Prank Starrs

 

 

 

LONG. ARMED SAMPSON;
The Scout of the Silver Pond.

FRANK STARR & CO.,41 PLATT STREET, N. Y.
W. E. Tunis, Clifton, Oanada

 

 

 

 

 

 
       

 

   
 

LONG-ARMED SAMPSON:

OR,

THE SCOUT OF THE SILVER POND,

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A Nets Ghowane. Soouk

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BY NEWTON M. CURTIS,
Autuor oF ‘Tue Trexan Spy,” (Star Noven No. 142.)

 

NEW YORK:

FRANK STARR & CO., PUBLISHERS,
4&1 Platt Street.

 
 

      

ered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by Frank STanw
& Co., in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

*

 

 

 
 

Se were

LONG-ARMED SAMPSON;

OR,

=

THE SCOUT*OF

PH

SILVER. POND,

a CHAPTER I.

Wt

That portion of the broad lands of Uncle
Biam’s domain, pow known as the State of
Vermont, furnished many daring “leaders,
and gallant, soldiers, during the war of the
Re slution; yet, like all the othér colonies,
{t was cursed with the influence of many,
who had zealously embraced the cause ot
the king. We
ceded fact, that the friends of liberty had

say cursed, for it is a con-

more to fear from the blood-thirstiness and
malice of the Tories, than’ from the inroads
and onslaughts of the “Regulars” afid “Hes-
gians.” The exertions, fowever,,’of a few
such spjrits as Mthan Allen and the leaders

Moanntam Boys,”

of the “Green went far
towards keeping them in check, yet they
wuld occasionally venture upon an expedi-
uon against. their neighbors, and ‘were ever
ready: to furnish information and provision’
to the enemy, when it could be done’ with
out too great a danger of detection.

The Tories were decidedly a gregarious
race, They were seldcm found singly, or
even in small seluivinents, and as a generdl
rule, all that a colony contained were i8u-

ally found * settled” ina body. The Tories

‘of Vermont wers mostly located in’ the

western and sou‘h; 1 portions of the district,

orry | “Pdeeyenn Other WR AC

vet a few could bs Jound in’ the inunedarte
neighborhood of the Canadas. 'Thetr sitaa
tion made it an easv matter to communicne
with then partisans in the valleys of ‘tha
Mohawk and Hudson rivers, and conse
quently furnished them with grest facilities
for égorresponding with the officers and em
Th

situation of their country was also eminent

missaries of the” British Government.
ly favorable to their quiet and well being
for it was so far removed from any of the
great thoroughfares, as to be almost entirety
out of the compass of the theatre of war.
he Vermont troops, and most of t:¢.4
were volunteers, Were more numefus 13
the armies of the north 2nd the centre, thes
those of any other colony, in proport en. &
the number of whig inhabitants withia Lex

bordérs, ‘The ‘few? able-bodied men efi at

home, were! uncéeasingly employed oi ‘the’

cultivation of thé’ soil, ‘for the support ‘ot
themselves and the families of the absentees,

except’ when the rigors: of winter? forbada

Idbor inthe fidlds) andas.a matter ofconrse
the tories were Icttin a eres ‘mefisire un

molested:
whelesome fear of Allén, and his detemmin-
ed and re ca Nea an _

¥ ¥ tw

Yet; as ‘we’ have before! sda

 
   
 

 

 
     
  
 

\

 

 

course of improvement ; after which he be+
came disgusted with agriculture; and’ di-
viding his purchase into farms of conveni-
ent size, he disposed of them to actual set-
tlers, and embarked shortly after for his
native land. The zich, alluvial soil, soon
became celebrated throughout Vermont,
and the progress and improvement of the
village and the neighboring lands seemed
like tee work of magic. The bright green
eward was broken up, the stroke of the
axe rang out upon the valley, and fields of
waving grain, and heads of sleek, fat cat-
‘tle, were soon to be seen in ‘almost every
direction, Mechanics and artizans flocked
to the settlement, and Gleamington at once
assumed a position of importance in the

Green Mountain Colony. ;

As we have stated, nearlv al! the inhabi-
tants of Gleamington were T'ortes. ' They
were, for the most part, wealthy,’ ‘for we
must take: into consideration the fact; that
in those days the ownership of one hundred
acres of land, a small stock’ of utensils and
aseful animals, with perhaps a few hundred
peunds in tnoney, made a man perfectly in-
dependent, as the phrase goes. There was,
in those days, none of the fanciful.and per-
mexing wants that have since'been introdu-
ced by fashion : neither was there that. indul-
gence in luxuries nnd dissipation that merks
so pointedly the wealthy classes of the nine-
teenth century. With but few wants, and
those for the most part supplied by the rich
and willing soil, health and. strength alone
might well ‘have been’considered a. compe-

ence in L776.
There werea few Whigs, however, warm-

hearted, true and determined, but they were
so hopelessly in the minority, that their in-
fluence could s:arcely be felt, They occa-

sionally met ty converse upon the probable

_asane of the struggle that had so desperate-

y comme iced, bur these meetings were al-

Ni

 

THE SCOUT OF

 

'

 

ways convened with great’ secresy, ‘Occa-
sionally, they contrived to send provisions
and even money ‘to their brethren in arms,
but it was at all times a work of danger, for
the Tories were watchful and suspicious in

the extreme. i
The Tories, on the other hand, confident

in their numbers and’ strength, were more
open and bold in the expression of theit
opinions, and to tell the truth, ruled the ham:
let. with an iron rod... They met often in the
bar-room of the ‘Mounted Monarch,’ as the
inn of Gleamington was somewhat pompous

ly called, to discuss the signs. of the times,
and occasionally. to , drink, bumpers. to the
health of ‘good King George, or.in honer
of,some victory achieved, by superior force,
over the struggling colonists... The Whigs
were compelled to witness such scenes, and
to smother their indignation at the same
time, yet a feeling of deep and bitter hostil-
ity would sometimes break out, and a fights
ala fisticuf; would, be the result. Here
again the offending; Whig was in the mmor

ity, and both his patriotism and his person
paid the penulty of his imprudence.

The campaign of 1775, if indeed the un-
concerted movements of that year can be
called acampaign, had so far as the advan
tages were concerned, terminated favorably
to the Whigs. The battles of Lexington,
Concord, and Bunker Hill, had opened the
eyes of the colonisis, and for the matter of
that, it had also opened the eyes of the Tc-
ries, and other supportens of the cause of the
crown. The former became aware of their
strength and effectiveness, and the lattes
were tanght in an emphatic manner, that
their rouyt, and undrilled adyersanes were
not.to he uespised upon’ a field of battle.—
Political animosity rankled deeper in the
breasts of both part.es, and opportunities fo
doing each othe: injuries were seldon ne

‘

glected.

 
 

 

¢.
ie. be ae
tor fay,” OWAP
tas Bet
Owe co'd and cheerless\ evening in the
month of March,’ 1776, quite a number of
thé inhabitants of Gleamington were seated
in the bar-room of the ‘ Mounted Monarch,
before the genial ray of a’huge hickory fire,
that sparkled and blazed in the capacious

fire-place, talking over

 

the events of the day,
and speculating as usual upon the probable
isstie of the rebellion. The conveérsation
Rad taken a warm, and, for the times, some-
what social turn, as it could hardly fail to do
when the bright: fire and choice ‘toddy’
within the doors was contrasted with the ap+

appearances and the weather without.

The snow had for the most part disappear-
ed from the hill-sides and the valley, al-
thongh here and there might be espied the
remains of a huge drift. ‘The air was, on
the evening in question, raw and piercing,
filled occasionally with large flakes of the
descending elernents, and anon flooded with
the light ofthe bright cold moon. The lit-
tle rivulet swept boisterously and riotously
. On its journey southward, swollen to a tur-
bid muddy stream, whilst the road upon its
bank looked dark and dismal, as well it
might, for it was one extensive stretch o
thick, half-Aozen mud... The cataract upon
the hill-side roared and crashed like an a¥-
alanche, wh,ls* the wind, shrieking and how-
ing through the leafless branches of the
trees, kept up a fitting accompamment,.. The
half wintez, half spring’ appearance of every

 

Pe eS

pile npi

object wie met the gaze of the beholder’
caused a chill and an ‘involuntary shrug of
the shoulder, and contrasted most pointedly
with the ruddy*walls and the glowing em-
bers that greeted the vision inside cf the lit-
tle inn.

Meantime the ‘ toddy,’ the usual drink of
New Englanders,*circulated freely among
the guests of the ‘Monarch, and Gershar
Morse, acting under the influence of one or
two mugs of the potent beverage which he
had drank, and which, by the bye, had been
paid for by some iiberal and half-fuddled
customer, or, spurred by the sight of the sil-
ver that every now an? then glided across
the counter of his bar, and found secure
lodgement in a drawer beneath it, piled on
the fire armsfull of the dry and substantial
hickory, until many a rubicond visage emit-
ted great drops of perspiration, and most of
the chairs had found rest against the squar
ed logs at the fartherest distance from the
fire, that could be at any shift, obtained.

After the temperature of the room had
been arranged so as to. meet the entire ap
probation of Gersham, that worthy individ.
al, who was one of the first men in Gleam-
ington, and a rabid and sclf-important poli
tician; by the way, seated himself'j in a chan
folded his arms unportantly upon his breast.
and evidenty. was making preparations te
renew. the conversation, whch for a few

 
 

 

 

om

oh

We nae

  

  

 

moments had been brought almost to a stanp
still.

Beside the worthy landlord, the room con-
tained many of the ‘ first men’ of the settle-
ment. There was Esquire Frisbee, the Jus-
tice of the Peace for the township. He was
a tall, spare man, slightly gray, who owned
and cultivated a large farm in the immedi-
ate vicinity, and who, as his commission was
signed by Governor Gage and several other
crown dignitaries, was, of course, a violent
Tory. There was also the village physi-
cian, Doctor Bleed, a man just past the mid-
die age, of a short and apoplectic build, who
possessed a never-ceasing supply of small
talk, and who, as he hada keen relish for
ais bread and butter, was also a Tory. The
CSchoolmaster was also seated in the digni-
fied circle, so also were one or two of.the
small dealers of the hamlet, beside others or
lesser note, all of whom were Tories, no one
Whig being present in the assembly.

Afte: Gersham Morse had arranged his po.
sition to his liking, he hemmed loudly once

or twice, and given several other premoni-
*f

tory symptoms of afl‘intention to say some _

thing, he turned solemnly toward the Jus-
tice of the Peace, who sat nearest him, and

sard—

“So, ’squire, it appears that we are to
nave some new inhabitants in Gieamington!

“Ah!” returned the ’squire, turning quick-
ly toward the Jandlord, “T had not heard the
news. Does the new vomer intend to take
8 farm ?”

“TI don’t exa-c-tly know,” replied Ger-
sham, ‘na sort of half hesitating manner,
“but I should r-a-t-her think not, from his
way of writing.”

“Ob: then he has written, has he ?”

“Yes,” replied Gersham in a mysterious
tone; “he has sent on a letter to me, and

requested ‘wt I ehould obtain a convenient

THE SCOUT OF

and retired house for his use, and .et him
know when he can take possersion, He ap
pears to be in a great hurry to get here,”

“ Where does he come from ?” asked Fris
bee, somewhat interested in the landlord’a
information.

“Oh! from Boston. He’s a relative of
Gage’s, and he says that domestic affliction
drives him to retirement in some distant col
ony.” ey

“This colony is not very distant from
‘Boston, I am sure,” said Frisbee.

“Why, no, to be sure not; but. thea
there are some other considerations that
may have an influence with him. He men
tions one, in particular.”

‘“‘ What one is that?”

“ Why, he says he has heard a good ac
count of the loyalty of the people hereaway,
and that is a great desideratum with a
warm friend of the King.

“Certainly! very true!” replied Frisbee.
If he don’t
take a farm, he must rich, and as he is the
King’s friend, he will be a decided acquisi

“ Well—I hope he may come.

tion.”

“Decidedly so! Most, decidedly so!”
exclaimed Doctor Bleed, who had been a
listener. to the conversation, and now for

“ The
more such men we get here, the better.

the first time interposed his voice.

Thank God there is at least one corner of
the country, in which a man dare speak his
honest mind, even if it happens to be
friendly to his sovereign.”

“ Well said, Doctor, and very true, too,”
chimed in the Schoolmaster, who thought
this ‘a favorable opportunity to join in the
“JT am thinking that the
time is not very far distant when it wont ba

conversation.

dangerous fora man to advocate ‘his sov
ereign’s rights, in any part of the country
let alone this little corner !”

 

 
 

THE SILVER POND. %

“J too,” replied Gersham. °“'The Green
Mountain Boys are'remarkably fine spimited,
because the rebels showed pretty good
blood at Lexington and Bunker Hill, but
just wait "till the ‘reg’lar armies organize
and take the field ; they'll scatter ‘the rag-
muffins like chaff They can’t stand the

fire at all.”

“Who is this new-comer: about whom
you were speaking just now ?” queried the
echoolnaster, turning tothe ’squire as the
most dignified person in the room.

“ Morse must tell you,” replied Frisbee ;
“he has just been telling me about it.”

Thus appealed to, Gersham looked wise,
and repeated the announceiment, that a new
comer, a staunch Tory, and a rich man,
was about to‘reside-among them, He also

added that his name was Sinclair.

This announcement furnished fresh ma-
terials for a renewal of the general conver-
sation, Which was accordingly recommenced
amidst several calls for “ toddy” which Ger-
sham hastened to attend to, with real busi-
ness-like alacrity. Various. were the con-
jectures and surmises in regard to the char-
acter of the resident expectant, but. all
came'easily to. the conclusion that-he was
a distinguished individual, because ‘he was
& relative of the ‘governer of Massachusetts
Colony. Great expectations wére formed,
and extensive plans laid out for the future,
and ‘before the’ company dispersed, the
question was ‘seriously discussed, whether
the Whigs should be driven from the ‘val-
tey, or be sufféred ‘to rémain. “The matter
was ‘not finally ‘disposed of, but by mutual
consent was laid over till another time.

St..was past the “hour ayont, the tral,”
when Gersham Morse. closed the doors of
the “ Mounted, Monarch” for the night.—
After carefully burying the glowing embers
upon his hearth, with the ashes produced by
the conflagration of his hickory, he mixed

himself another mug of the exhillerating
voddy, «and then: retired to bed, but not ‘te
sleep. He‘was in the:first place compelled
to listen patiently, for near an hour, to the
grumblings of his better half, who was, or
pretended ‘to be sorely vexed, at being
aroused from a refreshing slumber at that
unseasonable hour, and who labored hard
to convince him that she was in bad humor
not only by gradually raising her voice to its
very highest pitch, but also by sundry-hard
nudges in the ribs, with the point of anvel-

bow peculiarly sharp.

Gersham was an admirable tactician, and
ne made no reply to her harangue, and ne .
resistance to her elbow. The consequence
was, that Mrs. Moore soon cooled down, ot
“evaporated,” a8 Gersham was wont to say
and eventually she fell asleep, which fae
was proclaimed by sundry nasal intonations
which -waked the echoes of the sleeping
Oui, 29, if the cooks and scullions hae
got up.a concert of conch-shells and dinner

horns.

In the next place, Gersham could not
sleep, ‘for he had an important mission to
execute forthwith. To him was entrusted
the business of selecting a residence fora
distinguished reative of Governor’ Gage.
and the commission’ was one of vast im*
portance. Should he make a good selee
tion ; one that would please his employer
and his family ; he would undoubtedly be
liberally rewarded; but if on the contrary
the selection should be unfortunate, ae
would never be forgiven, and any little’ in-
convenience’ that the gentleman or the ‘la-
dies of his family might suffer, would most
probably be laid to his charge. Besides
all this, his compensation would be greatly
reduced, which circumstance affected, him
more than any fears he entertained of bis.

client’s. displeasure

 
  
   
 
  
   
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
     
  
  
    
    
   
   
   
  
   
  
   
    

» Thinking over the residences of the vil-
lege. which he deemed obtainable, vand,
weighing their advantages one by one, and
with the greatest caution, Gersham fell
asleep, and did not awake until the morn-
' ing sun was shining brightly in at:his bed-

room ‘window. He then srose, and after
dispatching his. morming meal, he left the
Monarch in the keeping of his better half}
and sallied out, intent uponhexecuting: his
commission.. He pursued! -his object) with
unwearied diligence; and-ere the ushering
in of another evening, he had accomplish-
ed his purpose, and forwarded to his em-
ployer an announcement of his success.
The missive was sent tothe nearest settle-
ment enjoying a communication with Bos-
ton, by a trusty messenger, and once more

Gersham Morse breathed freely.

A man of the most refined taste, could
scarcely have selected’a more lovely spot,
than did Gersham.

‘ently located at the northern end of the sin

The house was pleas-

gle street, and was one that had been built
with a great deal more than ordinary care
and skill. It was situated: in the centre of
a oeautitul lawn, if an enclosure of some
five acres 1s entitled to such a distinction,
one part of which was watered by the stream
so often mentioned. Just south. of the en-
closure was.a garden for the cultivation of
‘kitchen vegetables, and asmall fruit garden,
in its infancy it is true, but ornamented with
trellised arbors, and a tiny pond, joined the
lawn on its northern side, At a proper dis-

tance, in the rear of the house, a barn, ‘and

other convenient out-buildings were erected
* for the accommodation of the occupant, and

the whole presented a snug and comforta-

ble appearance.

“The house was of logs, it is true, but its

 

 

rough exterior was neatly ‘ whitewashed,
and gave promise of comfort and protection

,

THE SCOUT OF

 

within. A low and rude verancah surround
ed the front and! northern and southern sidea
the pillars-of which were entwined with

variety of creeping vines, dry and .eafless
now, to be-sure, but giving promise uf green
leaves and aroma; when the: sun’s | bright
rays should éntirely conquer the: icy-breath
of retreating winter. The rooms within were
conveniently arranged’and were-sufliciently
The floors

trué, were not overlaid with marble, and

large and well’ lighted. itvcls
might have presented some” inequalities: to
the feet in walking, yet these things were
thought little of in olden ‘times, and the lit-
tle mansion we are erideavoring to describe,
was called by the inhabitants of Gleaming-
ton, a prodigy of neatness and comfort.—
Brussels and Ingrain, Mahogany sofas and”
Rosewood beautets, would not have added

to its attraction in their eyes at that time.

| dn due.course of time, Graham’s epistle ta
Mr. Sinclair, announcing the engagement o1
the house, and containing a modest account
of its beauties and conveniences, received an
answer. The jandlord was delighted with
the tenor of thisepistle. It expressed great
satisfaction at the description of the situa-
tion and. its numerous advantages, and as-
sured the worthy, factor, that Mr. Sinclair
would enter upon its occupancy, early in the
coming April. It also contained a request
that the building should be) well cleansed
and prepared for the reception of its occu:
pants, for which labor, Mr. Sinclair promis-
ed most. liberally to pay,.so. soon as he

should arrive within the borders of Gleam-
ington.

Gresham’ Morse needed no greater incen-
tive to a vigorous action. The very next
day after the reception of his letter, he tould
have been seen, in company with his wife
and all the domestics o his honsehold

wending his way toward the little dwel'ing

 
THE’ SILVER“POND. rr

armed with brooms, pails, mops, brushes,
and all the necessary implements for the
task, and forthwith the building was swept,
scrubbed, washed and rinsed, until Mrs.
Morse declared upon her honor, that ‘ speck
or blemish was no where to be seen.’ Ger-
sham and the domestics coincided with this
opinion, and the house was again left to
solitude.

As the time designated for Mr. Sinclair
to make his appearance approached; excite-
ment and curiosity increased in the little
hamlet. Every night, the Justice, the Doc-
tor, the Schoolmaster, and all the lesser
iights, met at the bar-room of the Mounted
Monarch, discussing the news «and laying
plans for future operations, so soon as their
forces should be reinforced by the arrival
of the distinguished relative of Governor
Gage. They declared vehemently, that
Sinclair was a great man; a lion; in fact it
could be no other, way ; for he had long
resided at the head quarters of British influ-
ence in New England, and beside that, was
the blood connexion of alive Governor.

Al) these high-sounding rumors, reached

the ears o” the Whigs, and they heard

Already ware the~

with heavy hearte.

driven hither and thither, ty tie will of
tneir masters, and they feared the conse-
quences, should more wealth and influence
be brought to bear against them. Thev
well knew that Sinclair must bean influen

 

tial man with the leaders of the British in-
fluence, if he was indeed a relative of the
acting Governor of Massachusetts, and
grown suspicious from a long acquaintance
with Tory character, they fancied that his
wish for.retirement, which was alledged as
a reason for his coming amongst them, was
only a cléak to lull suspicion, and cover up
his real design.

Hopes and fears hung upon the arrivals
Mr. Sinclair. Time meanwhile, seemed to
the villagers of both parties, to move neavily
along, for'so interested had all becomeythat
they counted the days’as they*tolled pasty
Unconscious of the anxieties he had created,
Mr. Sinclair was busily employed in making
his arrangements for his’departure from
Boston, and was soon to take up his resi
dence ina'village, where strange’ and unex-
pected vicissitudes would bell him, such

4

as in his gloomiest moments, he had nawer

dreamed of.

 
  

A Pru:

ower

: CHAPT
CA vn we
March, witu its I unshine, rough

winds, and bitiag frosts, at length passed
away, and April, the month of buds and
promises, came. The snow had entirely
disappeared from the valley, and, from the
hill-sides. The little rivulet was nolonger
a turbid ‘stream, but pure aud, limpid,its
tny waves rolled southward, with a low
and plaintive murmur. Dim streaks of the
palest green, could be distinguished amid
the limbs of the forest trees, and the bleat-
ing flocks once more sported in the tender
meadows. <A few of the earlier birds had
made their appearance, and poured forth
their sweetest lays from the hedges and
trees. The husbandman was busily pre-
paring for his fast approaching labors, and
life and activity were every where visible.

Gersham Morse had received another
epistle, which informed him that the long-
expected Sinclair had actually set out for
Gleamington, and that he would soon take
possession of his prepared dwelling. Jour-
neying was no easy matter in those days.
Canals, rail-roads and steamboats, were not
yet dreamed of, and in the colonies, even
the art of wagon-making was but imper-
fectly understood. The roads too, were
wild and rough, and almost impassable,
being for the most purt, but military open-
ings through the forest. made during the
rumerous Indian wars etter lant upon the

Wf, oF ¥ q
Se

THE SCOUT OF

.
A. ,
tok tof Ke
* etic yt
ER Tl = rie

On
first settlement of the country, many ox
which were at’ this time nearly impassable,
from the brush and bushes that had grown
up in them.

Mr. Sinclair did not, consequently, arrive
until several, days after he had been posi-
tively expected. He was truly a man of
wealth, and one too, who loved his ease
and the comforts of life, to say nothing
about a slight penchant for its luxuries, and
he had therefore loaded down several teams
with choice provisions and delicacies, be-
sides others that carried the furniture neces-
sary to an establishment in house-keeping
Many and various were the difficulties that
had retarded their progress, and the pa-
tience of the aristocrat was entirely ex-
hausted, long before he entered the valley
in which was situated his future residence.

Just before sunset, on a bright, warm
April day, the long line of heavy wagons,
comprising Sinclair’s means of transporta-
ticn, entered the southern chasm in the
range of hills encircling Gleamington, and
for the first time, he obtained a view of the
village and of the scenery that currounded
it. He drew the reins of the horsez at-
tached to the wagon in which he rode, and
gazed long and admiringly at the beauti-
ful prospect that met his view

Mr. Joseph Sinclair had passed the me
ridian of life, and was somewhat nore than

 

 
 

E
:

THE SILVER POND 13

fifty years of age. In perscn he was short,
stoutly built, and somewhat corpulent.—
His features were anything but’ prepossess-
ing. His eyes were large, prominent, and
of a light gray color; shaded by heavy eye-
brows that had once been black, but which
were now plentifally besprinkled with curl-
ng white hairs. His’ nose was large and
coarse, and so was’ his mouth, and a heavy
sear, running from the inner corner of hs
left eye, across his nose, and the whole
length of his right cheek, gave his natural-
ly austere face, an almost ‘hideous expres-
sion.

He was accompanied by three persons,
who sat near him in the wagon; two fe-
males, and a lad some eighteen or nine-
One of the females
was his wife.’ and the other an orphan

teen years of age.

niece, who had been left to his care and
guidance by a deceased sister: The lad
was the son of an old friend, who had fallen
in a siirmish during the last French war,
and whose person and fortune had ever
since’ been cared for by Sinclair.

The vehicle in which they travelled, con-
tained two seats, the front one being occu-
pied by Sinclair and the boy, whose name
was Augustus Fitzgerald, whilst Mrs. Sin-
clair and the niece occupied the other —
As the wagon stopped on entering the val-
ley, the ladies dréw aside the heavy veils
that had sereened their faces from the
view, as’ well ad from the tanning winds of
the early spring, giving the beholders, if
any there were, a chance to gaze upon their
charms. ;

Mrs. Sinclair’s countenance once seen,
could never be forgotten. There were such
a blendiug of almost unearthly beauty, with
the ravages of care and grief; such an un-
natural commingling of the gra¢es of wo-
manhood, with the strong marks of prerna-

ture decay, and corroding sorzow, that tin
effects were fairly startling; stamping the
picture at once upon the memory so indeli-
bly that time could never euce it Al-
though appearing somewhat older, she waa
scarcely twenty-two. Her forin was rather
above the medium height, and had evident-
ly been full and voluptuous in other daya,
but now it was thin and wasted, and some-
what bent with sorrow. Her bright au-
burn tresses amidst which, the sunlight
loved to linger, shaded a brow of the
most pagfect beauty. Her eyes were black
and brillant, and, although frequently suf-
fused with tears, were capable of great ex-
pression. She was neatly, yet plainly habi-
ted in black, which added to the death-like
palor of her cheeks, but which well accoré-
ed with the subdued and melancholy ex

pression of her looks.

The niece, Miss Rachel Morris, had just
attained her sixteenth year, and was a gay
jovous, handsome girl, with an unyielding
spirit, and possessed of talents and educa-
tion of the highest order. Her dark gray
eyes flashed with the fires of youth and in-
telligence, her cheeks were blooming with
the blush of health, and her full, red lips
were constanily wreathing with smiles,
causing not only a display of infinite good
humor, but of two rows of teeth of the most.
dazzling whitenéss. She was the perfect
counterpart of the sorrow-stricken being
that sat beside’ her.

Mr. Augustus Fitzgerald was a comely
youth, compactiy, yet lightly built, with a
keen, resless hazel eye, and a bold and
open foréhead, around which were thick
clusters of dark brown hair. His nose was |
finely turned, and bis mouth gave promise
of earnestness and decision of character,
both of which traits he possessed in an emi-

nent degree. His glance was often turned

 

 
 
   
 
 
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
   
 
   
  
 
 
 
   
   
   
 
  
   
 
  
  
  

a7]

ed no wizard’s power to tell.that, her. bud-
ding charms had made a deep impression
‘upon his young heart

After a long and _ silent look, for not one
ix.the wagon made any remark, the horses
were again put in motion, and eventually
halted upon the green in. front. of the
“Mounted Monarch.” Here the ladies and
Fitzgerald alighted, and were conducted by
the obsequious Mrs, Morse to the best room
in the little inn, whilst the travelling wagon
occupied by Sinclair, and piloted by Ger-
sham, moved on toward, the future. resi-
dence of the “ great expected.”

The arrival of the cavaicade of freighted
and wearied teams, was the signal for the
universal turnout of the Tories of Gleam-
ington, and the little yard surrounding the
residence of Sinclair was. soon,, nearly
filled with gaping and admiring rustics.—
A word from Gersham set them to work,
and in an incredible short time, the wagons
were unloaded, and their contents safely
deposited inthe rooms and cellar of the
‘mansion, Mr. Sinclair politely thanked
them for their assistance, and concluded
this characteristic introduction, by inviting
them to the Monarch, to partake of some
refreshments at his expense.

This .invitation was_readily, complied
with, as a matier of course, and after..the
tirculation of thee toddy, the measure.of
which was not stinted, not a man could be
leund who did not belieye that Mr. Sinclair
was. the most liberal man in existence.—
ffis health and pros perity was drank in re-
peated bumpers, and when he replied to it
by drinking to the “success of the royal
cause,” the clamor was almost deaferang.
After an hour spent in these conyivalities,
M:. Sinclair retirep to his room, but not.so
Wath the elated villagers... The, shades of
ave ;

sdmiringly upon Miss Rachel, and it need-:

4
‘

THE SCOUT: OF

night had. gradually come down.upon he
valley, and put an.end to, the labors’ of the
day, and.they manifested a desire to rejoice
over the advent of one who had been long
expected, and upon whose coming, hung the
completion of;so,many schemes. \ Candles
were therefore lighted; groups and cireler
were formed, and the bar-room) of the litth
inn presented the bustle and buzzing of.a
bee-hive. During the evening, the Justice,
the Doctor, and several ‘of. the. morenoted,
were ushered into Mr. Sinclair's room, and
went, through’ with the ceremonies of a: for-
mal introduction, and their return furnish-
ing fresh food for gossip, protracted the sit
ting in the bar-room, to quite an unreasona
ble hour. .

In the morning; ‘after ‘breakfasting at the
inn, the teams were put: upon their home-
ward way, and Sinclair and his family took
possession of their new home. With the as-
sistance of Mrsi Morse and her: apt domes-
tics, the rooms..were soon arranged and:pla-
ced in order, and the new-comers were left
Master Augustus, and Miss Rachel

soon ransacked every, room. of the little

alone.

dwelling, and traversed, the different paths ..

that checkered the little lawn, and both were
delighted wih the rural beauty, and’the qui-
et of the spots .Mrs. Sinclair seated herself
jn the little parlor fronting the verandah,
and gazed about herwith a listless eye,
whilst Sinclair, lighting a rude pipe, was
pacing the lawn backwards and forwards; in
front of the porch, witha quick and irregu-
lar step.. It was evident that his mind was
ill at ease, and it was also evident that hia
disquietude was caused by no temporary
chagrin, but that the cause lay sure and
deep.

Two of the domestics of Gersham Morse’a
establishment, had) been generously spared

by that worthy to assist in the culinary,and

 

 
 

THE SILVER (POND. 15

thamber departmen. of fae new hotisehold; » “ You know, madam, 01 4 least you oug’at
nnd at the usual’ hour, /dinnner madeiits‘ap- to know, that the only motive that induced
yearance, and was announced, when for the me to seek this wild and retired spot, was a
first time that morning, Sinclair laid down desire to improve your health; which; Tam
“ais pipe, and entered his:domicil. sorry to say, has been impaired solely by
During thé meal, neither Mrs. Sinclairor: your.own obstinacy.) This solicitudé “for
eer husband uttered:aisyllable,\whichdid your welfare, it is my opinion, is entitled te
aot appear’ at all surprising to'their'young some other reward than a sneer.”
‘eble companions, for they kept up @ lively ~(~ The little spirit that had manifested itselt
orversation between themselves, in regard ‘in the first reply made to the cold and harass
to their new grounds, and the various sports~ salutation of her liege-lord, had left the wife
and pastimes that their new situation would »as'passivé and gloomy as formerly, and a
afford them. As if perfectly acquainted ‘half-suppréssed sigh was her only answer'ta
with the rules of thelr guardian’s household? 'Sinclair’s upbraiding. This appeared to cis.
ag well as his modes and habits, tbe uncer-iappoint:/Him, and he was silent for a few
emoniously left the room and the table after mements, during which time he kept playing
completing their meal. with his pen-knife, und staring at the rouga
As soon as the door of the dining-room log floor; but at length he again raised hia
had ciosed upon their retiring. figures, Sin- eyes, and altering his tone to one of seem
elair drew, back a foot from the table,and ing respect, if not‘softness, he resumed,—
bestowing a glance unon the pale face;ofhis: “You must be aware that we are now in
wife, for the first time that day, he address- ‘aJand of strangers, where our past history is
ed her, with soinewhat of’ sternness' in his entirely unknown, and where you need not
‘look and tone. be reminded of past follies, by every object
“1 wust, Mrs:” Sinclair, that you are per- that meets your gaze. If you continue to
feetly:satistied with your ‘new home, and pine and grieve, and act the sentimental and
that you willentirely givé'over your melan- ‘nawkish, you will certainly arouse the curi-
choly and disagreeable: moping. [am sure ‘osity of the public, who will not be satisfied
that’even a monk ‘would ‘be satisfied with ‘until they have learned the cause. If this
this:riiral andretired spot; that I have ob- ‘should happen, 1 shall again be made the
tained for you at such trouble andexpense!” ‘butt of men sners and vomen’s gibes, TE,
“Your kindness is Very disinterested in- *M the other hand, you abandon this display
deed; especially when we take into consid- of mock-sorrow, the accursed tale will nev-
eration the fact that I knew nothing about er reach us, and I promise on, my honor, te
your intentions until 1 was ordered to get forgive you all the bitter and hateful past!
myself in readiness for a removal,” said his What do you say to this?”
wife, with something of spirit in her voice. The pointed allusions contained in this
* However,” she added, “if it please you speech, appeared to touch tle soul ef the
any, | am-pesferthp contented with it. My heart-broken woman, and her eye grew
removal from Brston will prove nothing of brighter and brighter, as her husband con

an annoyance |” tinued. When he concluded, there was &
Since air bit his lips from vexation, andhis faint tinge of red in her usually pale cheek,
“brow grew dark as he replied and a exile of mest ineffable scorn, wreath

 

 
    

 

 

ed her colorless lips. With,a voice tremb-
ling with emotion, she replied:—

“ The sheers and gides of which you stand
so much in fear, yourichly deserve, and was
warned concerning. them before you: put
yourself in the way of receiving them. .'The
past is not more hateful cr bitter to ycax than
to me, and your aeis alcte, have embittered
st. You have put it out of my power to ap-
pear otherwise than heart-broken and sick of
life, and taunt me with hollow offers of for-
giveness, when all the guilt lays rankling on
your soul. I only ask to be left with my own
communings whilst I stay on this earth, and
am utteily unconcerned about the'public, or
any opinions they may form.”

“You will repent of this obstinacy, for it
is nothing else ;” exclaimed Sinclair, in an
excited tone ; “and repentance, may come
too late. I have reason to know that the fool
who deluded you, has died upon the gallows,
being taken in arms against his sovereign,
and all further whining upon his account is
utterly useless, You had better become re-
conciled in time to save your credit, and the
credit of your family.”

Mrs. Sinclair covered her face with her
handkerchief, and the convulsive heaving of
ter breast, showed her husband that she was
weeping. Hoe arose from his chair, walked
hastily across the room a few times, when he
departed, and once more re-lighting his pipe

16 | THE SCOUT OF

he left:the house, and: walked slowly away
in the direction of the ‘Mounted Monarch
He had scarcely quitted the verandah, when
the door of the dining-room opened gently
and Rache. Morris gliding quietly into the
room, approached the table, threw her arma
around the neck of: the ‘sobbing wifi, and
mingled her tears and her sobs with those of
her aunt. e

The knowledge that one true and gentle
heart sympathized with her, greatly alleviae
ted the grief of Mrs. Sinclair , Rachel knew
of the secret sorrow that preyed upon her
heart, and with the tact of a true woman,
knew well how to administer to its paims.—
In a short time after her entrance into the
room, her aunt had become composed, and
together, they agreed to walk through the
fields, and along the banks of the little
stream, to gather the early violets, which
had just peeped their heads above the tur£

Ill at ease, and chafing and foaming like
a caged eagle, Sinclair slowly traversed the
street. A sullen scowl seated itself upon
his brow, and almost regardless of the mu
merous salutations that greeted him. trom
the passing citizens, he reached the inn; ana
after seating himself, called. for a mug of
toddy, and after quaffing it to the bettora an
a draught, he again relapsed irte hia me
found ana np easant reflections,

 

 
 

CHAP TE Ro LVaid

Durine tie spring and swhmer following
heir arnval‘at Gleamington, nothing of note
océurted int the fimily of Sinelait, or in the
village. The wife “still brooded over her
sorrows, and her cheek stew paler, if possi-
ble, whilst Sinclair, finding it; impossible to
arouse her, and feeling in fact, that. his/pres-
ence was hateful to her, spent, most. ‘of, his
time atthe ‘ Mounted Monarch; conversing
with his Tory friends, and learning. the his-
tory of the little settlement... Master /Au-
gustus was constantly upon,the surrounding
hills with his rife, or engaged with rod.and
hue at the little rivulet, whilst. Rachel, Mor-
ris cheered and consoled her. aunt, so far as
words and looks.of kindness could afford her
consolation,

In July, the news of Washington’s defeat,
on Long Island, and of his, fina] yretreat. to,
the heights of Harlem, reached the village,
and great were the rejoicings thereat, ,. Al-
ways confident of the final, success of the
King’s arms, they loudly protested that this
disaster would close the war,,and when the
rumor followed in afew days, that Washing-
ton’s. tnilitia were deserting by regiments,
and that, the regulars were seriously. affect-
ed by their examples, their joy knew ,no
bounds, and bonfires gleamed, and, toasts
were drunk in nonor of the event. ,

Late, one dark, warm night, just after the
reception of this cheering intelligence, had
reached the Tories, a-huge fire wens burning
on the little green in front of the inn, r-

rounded by a motley crowd of n en and bays,
huzzahing and shouting, and discharging
volleys of abuse ata few Whigs who had
ventured to approach, when thé attention of
the mob was drawn to’ a young ian, evi:
dently a stranger, who’ approached the inn
with'slow and lagging steps, as if wearied
out} with ‘the toil of a day’s hard travel. En:
tering the bar-room, he threw himself into a
chair, and inquired of the ever-ready Ger-
sham, if hé’cotild have supper, and a bed for
the night) The landlord departed to order
the desired meal, and so unustial an ‘affair
was the arrival ofa stranger i the'sécludea
hamlet, that the crowd left the’ bonfire, and
rushed into ‘the bar-room to’ gaze at the vis-
iter. ‘

The young man bore their rade serut.ny
with admirable composure," yet’ a) sniilé of
scorn played frequently ardund the corners *
of his mouth, and Héhted’ tp the depths of
The

smile was probably’called into’existence br

his dark: eye with a feeling of pride.

the impoliteness, and bdorish appearance o.
the gazers, for the stranger had nothing to
lose by: their examination, ‘however strict it
might bes’ He was a «most noble specimen
of the genus homo ; full sixofeet high, and
every limb, and, every muscle, miost/admira-
bly developed. ,. The broad, deep, chest, the:
squared and neavy snouuers,sligh tly arched
denoted great strength ; whilstevery snetion:
showed tnat it was coupled, witl,.t22 greate.

est activity. The voung mitn’s countenanes

 
 

 

Is THE SCOUT OF

was strikingry nandsome. His eyes were
keen and intelligent, his forehead broad and
massive. The lower lineaments of his face
kept constantly changing in their expres-
sion, apparently shadowing forth the work-
ings of a mind far above the ordinary grade,
and one that was ever busy and restless.—
Rich clusters of dark curls protruded from
beneath a semi-military cap that adorned his
head, some of which rested upon his cheeks,
shading them to a delicacy, not exactly in
accordance with his robust person.

His dress was perfectly, simple and un-
pretending, yet it served to exhibit his man-
‘v and symmetrical form to a greater advan-
tage, than could the most elaborate adorn-
ments of art. It consisted. of a. dark blue,
short frock, of light woolen cloth, arranged
in deep, broad plaits across the back and
breast, and held tightly around his loins by
a beaded deer-skin belt and golden buckle,
His breeches of the same fabric, extended
only to the knee, where they were met by
light, stockings of fawn-skin, which were
tastefully united to the upper garment’ by
small gold studs, and thick, loops of the same
precious metal. On his feet, he wore the
heavy, long-legged boot, usually tobe found
in the dragoon service of the continental ar+
my. He carried no weapon, at least. that
the eye could detect, and although he ex-
hibited something of a military bearing at
anes,.and was somewhat unusually and
fancifully dressed, yet. he might; well. have
passed for a young mam in pursuit of pleas-
ayz adventure in the forests and settlements,
or ene, perhaps, travelling on foot, insearch
of a future location.

After the delay of a half hour, or there-
bouts, Gresham at nounced his supper, and
the stranger with ew to the eating-room.
His -depurture was 4 signal for the crowd to

resume the bonfire, and yelling and seream-

ing, they left the bar-room, and were scou
heaping fresh fuel upon the flames.

A decided change had taken place in the

bearing of the Tories toward the Whigs
since the arrival of Sinclair in Gleaming-
ton. They no longer dealt in inuendv, or
confined their hatred to threats and growl
ings, but openly abused and bullied their
dissenting neighbors, whenever an opportu
nity occurred. This conduct had aroused
the indignation of the Whigs tothe highest
pitch, and expecting, at no. distant, day,
serious outbreak, in consequence of this. in
solence, most of them carried arms con

cealed within their clothing.

As we have before mentioned, a few of
the Whigs were present at the bonfire on
the'night in question. The cheering intel-
ligence teécived by the Tories, and’ fre-
quent potations from Gersham’s bar, had
raised their excitability almost beyond con-
trol, atid it S6on became apparent that the
Whigs must leave the ground, or submit to
the grossest indignities. They were not
disposed to leave’ the ground, although the
odds were fearfully against them, and mat
ters were rapidly approaching a crisis, when
another arrival seemed for a 1noment to stav

the storm of hnman passions.

The personage whose appearance hushed
the wild commotion, was Augustus Fita
gerald. Unusual success in the chase up-
on the hill-side, had detained him far be
yond his usual hour of returning home,
and, attracted by the glare of the illumina
tion, he had taken the village in his home
ward track, in order to learn the cause of
the unusual rejoicing. As he was known
to be a ward of Mr. Sinclair, whose influ
ence over the villagers was unbounded, he
was received with great respect, and .0 an
swer to his inquiries Esq. Frisbee under
too \ to explain. :

 

j
; .

 
THD SILVER POND

© You s2e, sir;” said tha, worthy, whose’

eountenance glowed with excitement ; “ that
Washington hasbeen dreadfully flogged on
Long Island, and sterling and a dozen nore
of the biggest rebels have been killed. \He
has finally retreated to Harlem, and his
gnéaking trodps aré deserting like scared

sheep. ‘So you see’ that considering the

victory we thought we would rejoice'a ‘little’

amotig ourselves, when these rebels (point-
ing toa cluster of Whigs near him) rot li-
king the occasion, interrupted our sport, and
we were upon the point of’ chastising them
as they deserved, when yott nade your ap-
pearance.’

A shade of sorrow flitted across the open
countenance of the younth at this announce-
ment, which was not noticed by the excited
Tories, but which caused significant glances
to be exchanged by the knot of Whigs.

“Who brought these tidings ?” he asked
at length, directing his discourse to Frisbee,
who stood a few paces in front of his com-
rades. “Who brought these tidings, and
how do you know that they are true?”

“Pooh!” replied Frisbee; “they are true

enough. They were brought here by a,
Bennington man, who saw a detachment of,

Wanrren’s Bunker Hill regiment, day before,

yesterday. These men had deserted, and—”

“He lied, by the gods!” exclaimed Fitz-
gerald, in an elevated_tone, bringing his
rifle sharply to the ground at the same
time. “He Jied like a dog, and if, the
wretch were here I’d make, him gulp down
his own abomination. . Warren’s regiment
would never bring disgrace upon the fame
of tieir mourned Jeader !” :

A loud shout of apprebation burst. from
the Whigs, at this unlooked for and. spiri-
ted rejoinder ; whilst the Tories looked the
very picture of astonishment. It was sev-

eral minutes before Frisbee could command

19

his utteranc®, but at length ‘he put-on a look:
of lugubrious severity, and said,

“Phat sounds very like treason, my net
tlesome young buek and I very much doubt
if your master knows you are wedded to
such opinions., He is well affected to the
king, and would soon bring down your rebe
notions, did he dream you were a traitor te
his example !” ;

“Who do you mean by my master, cai
tiff!” fiercely retorted Fitzgerald. “| have
no master as you have, and least of all,
would I tolerate, over my honest convictions.
However, I care nothing for the sneers of
the wretch, who is so fallen as to rejoice

over his country’s calamities !”

“ Do you mean to call me a wretch ?’ ex-
claimed Frisbee, coloring to his temples,
and forgetting in his wrath, all respect for
the family of Sinclair; who he regarded as
littie less than a god; “1 say, young up-
Start, dare you call me a wretch for rejoicing
at thesucces of my lawful prince and sov-
ereign !”

“Aye!” cried Fitzgerald, proudly; ad-
vancing at the same time towards his srvell-
ing adversary. “ Aye! [ dare call you a
wretch. I do call you a wretch and a dem-
agogue, whose heart is not possessed of suf-
ficient sensibility or courage to asserts its
right”

“ Have a care, villain! have acare! or !
may not sufficiently respect your beardlese
face, to spare your back! Bestow no more
of rebel epithets upon me, if you wish te
escape a flogging.”

“Flog him as it is: d—him he deserves
it ;? shouted a coarse featured. half-fuddled
“What busi-

ness has a whiffet |-ke him to interfere with

rioter, just behind Frisbee.

men’s business, | ’d like to know !”
“Young man!” exclaimed Doctor Bleed,
advancing toward Fitzgera/d with an aire.

 

 
 

 

 

great importance yo. had, better by far
seave this—”

“ Stand back !” cried Augustus, resolute-
ly, presenting his rifle directly under the
Doctor's nose. “ Stand back, if you have
a desire to live. Keep at a respectful dis-
tance !? :

As the protruding barrel of the rifle came
within the range of the physician’s vision
that worthy drew back his head so suddenly,
that his hat was jerked from it, and fell
fearly upon the crackling flames. A dozen
rushed forward to seize it, but in an instant
it was amass of cinders. The Doctor re-
treated with a ruefal visage, exclaiming as
‘he did so—_ ae j

“Headstrong fool! Yes, d—n him, a
flogging would open his pores, Frisbee, and
benefit his health! Ah! that hat cost me
two pound ten, only a week ago !”

“Huzzah for the Boston boys !”" sried one
of the Whigs, emboldened by this exhibi-,
rion of cowardice on the part of the Doe-
tor” “Tf néver knew one of the kind but
was grit to the back-bone!
that makes it”

Its Gage’s tea

A loud laugh followed this sally, which
enraged the Tories beyond measure. Some
half dozen of them drew off their coats and
commenced other demonstrations of open-
ing a knock down argument. .

“Needn’t mind pullin’ off your coats,
-ekinners; we'll do that job for you for
nothin’ ;” cried the Whig.
is fair play '”

“Who do you mean by skinners, you

“ All we want

vile rebel ;” exclaimed Frisbee, in a tower-
Ag rave: ; f

« “Yow! carrion bird! ” veried the Whig
apokesman, who stepped a few paces in’
fromt of hia friends “I mean you; the

‘

THE SCOUT OF

old yeteran ji his sleep, 1s gets mundred
dollars in specie. You, are, the, man,1
mean;—you, who had, an ear cropped. by,
Ethan Allen, and the palm of your hand
branded D. R., which is the ,hi’rogliphies
for d—d rascal !”

“ Frisbee could. bear no,,moze.
his hat to the croud who,.surrounded him,
he strode toward, the expectant; Whig,. ont

just as he was passing, Fitzgerald,a.well,.

directed blow, from the youngstey’s fist, laid,
him, sprawling upon,the ground,
The Whigs. uttered a loud. cheer, and,

simultaneously, a, dozen knives gleamed in,

the firelight.
at the fallen. Justice,

The Tories looked for.a, mo-
when, one of them
rushed furiously, toward Fitzgerald, with
uplifted arm.

“Come no nearer,” shouted the, Jad, pre,
senting his rifle ; but the enraged partisan
heeded not the warning cry, and stalked on
ward, Ina moment the sharp report of a

rifle rang out upon the night-air, and the

Tory sank upon the grass with a low moan

A horried yell, mingled
“bum the

Whigs,” and similar expressions of rage,

“murder,” “kill the villain,”

burst from the Tories, and they rushed ina

body upon the’ Whigs, who stood their.

ground, somewhat appailed at the suddex
change affairs had met with. yet desperate-
ly* determined to stistain’ théir new-found
friend at all hazards.

The contending partics met in funous
conflict. “The “Tories were many of them
arined, like’ their opponents, with’ knives,
and the others quipped themselves for bat-
tle; with clubs) seized from the surrounding
fences. ‘The gleaming knives flashing ‘in
the strong firélight, the groans ofthe wound-
ed, the trampling of the combatants and

Tossing,

with cries of

 
f

THE SILVER POND. 21

determination did the little band of patriots
maintain their stand, that it was, at the
best, an issue of doubt.

At the first onset, Augustus Fitzgerald
found himself assailed by two ruffian-look-
mg individuals, but nothing daunted, he
clubbed his rifle, and dealt his blows with
the strength of desperation. For severa.
moments he kept his assailants at bay, but
the violence of bs exertions soon prostra-
ted his strength, and one of the Tories
seized his weapon. A desperate struggle
for the possession of it ensued, but the
atrength of the youth being nearly expend-
ed, he at length released his grasp of the
rifle, and hastily drawing a hunting knife
which he wore at his waist, ina leather
belt, he plunged it to the hilt in the breast
of his adversary, before he could avoid the
blow. Both fell to the earth; the Tory
from @ mortal wound, Fitzgerald from ex-
naustion. His fall’ was the signal for two
or three cowardly ruffians to rush. upon
him, and hie forthwith received a shower of
kicks and blows.’ He made several des-
perate attempts to regain his feet, and at
last'succtéded, dnd staggered off towards
thie)“ stoop” of the “ Mounted
bruised dnd bleeding, and closely followed

Monarch,”

dy his adversaries, who were vowing the

most terrible vengeance,

He had nearly reached thé entrance in
front of ‘the bar-rcom, when his eye caught
the figure’ of thé young stranger emerging
from the éating room. “Fé halted ‘a’ mo-
ment, and gazed as if doubting his senses.
The" ligtits’ frém the bar, however, shone
fall’ and Wndbstructed upon the young man’s
face and figure, and uttering a low moan-
ing ery, partly from pain, and part, appar-
ently from surprise, he sank to the ground
fust’ as “his pursuers’ overtook. him, and
séized him by -he collar of his throat.

The stranger stood fora :noment like
one hewildered. By the aid of the firelght
without, which yet burned brightly, -he saw
the array of enraged combatants, heara
their shrieks, and saw the flashing of weap
ons. By the aid of the bar-room lights, he
had imperfectly beheld the
Fitzgerald. and saw him ‘fall before hia

fedtures. of
pursuers. For a moment he hesitated, but
it was for a moment only. His quick eye

and well trained senses, unravelled ‘the
mystery of the singular scene in a moment,

for such occurrences in these times were
not unusuil in the«settlements, and with
one bound he ‘cleared’ the bar-room, and
uttering a stentorian ery of “Hazzah for
the Continental Congress,” he dashed upon
the assailants of Augustus Fitzgerald, and
hurled them’ from his ‘prostrate. form, as if
they had been dry sticks in‘ the embrace of
a whirlwind.

“ Huzzah for the Continental Congress!”

‘was answered ‘from the opposite side of

the green, ina voice choked with'rage and
exertion.! ‘The'strangerigazed in the diree+
tion from’ which the ‘sound ‘proceeded for «
moment, and then’ stooped over the fallen

and britised body'of the gallant youth.

“ Fitz! my noble fellow, is this you ?” he
exclaimed, peering into the fice of the fal-

* Jen lad.

“Oh! Ned! how lucky- Msc

 

“Hist! for God's sake ; breathe not _
name ;” whispered the stranger; “ but atise
and come here. Take some brandy and
we'll finish’ these Tories, after’ that we'll
converse tipbi topics more congenial.”

Fitzgerald arose with difficulty, notwith f
standing the assistance of his friend’s sturdy
arm ; and with unsteady steos he entered
the bar-room. No one was here to attend’
to their wants, he doughty Gersham having

retired tc his kitchen, as the spot most

 
 

‘ee

hhely to be free from harm, but the stran-
gor leaped lightly on the low counter, which
tun in front of the row of glittering bottles,
and seizing one that was labeled “ brandy,”

ke poured a heavy potation of the beverage

into adrinking glass,and leaping to the

other side, he held it to the lips of the faint-
ing lad, who drained it to the very bottom,
He then led his comrade to a seat in one
corner of th? room, and bidding him remain
there in quiet, he once more left the bar-
rooin, shouting at the top of his heavy voice,

* Huzzah for the Continental Congress !”

The tones of that firm, clear voice, rang
far and wide, down, the echoing street, and
as it struck the ears of the contending whigs,
‘t seemed to add the strength of twenty men
to theirnumbers, . “ Huzzah for the Conti-
nental Congress!” was answered, back by
half adozen hoarse voices, and. the fight

raged with renewed obstinacy and effect.

‘fhe ‘Tories too, heard the shout, and its
effect upon them was anything but consola-
tory,and encouraging», This was the» first
time since the commencement, of the colo-
nial difficulties, thatthe Whigs! had. made
any determined resistance in a body, to their
bullying and dictation, aud. they, had con-
fidently counted upon a_ bloodless, and
speedy victory, when the battle had com-
menced  [n this they had been sorely dis-
appointed, for many of their men were down,
and totally disabled, and a re-inforcement
was advancing to the help of their oppo-
AeliLs.

Ashe neared the point where the mejee
raged most Nercely, tne stranger pickea up
a huge clip, that had been dropped by some
of the combatants, and elevating it above
ss head, he strode onward. Not knowing
frends from foes, he again shouted, “ Huz-
gah for the Continental Congress,” when
three or four of the Tories with taces scowl-

‘field.

THE SCOUT OF.

ing with 1atred anda desire for revenge
turned .ponhin ‘The foremost two wer
down before him at one swoop of his mus-
cular arm, and the remainder retreated be-
The Whigs made

a desperate rally, and crowded to his side,

fore his haughty stride.

shouting and encouraging each other to the
conflict.
A few blows from the stranger's ponder

ous club, supported by vigorous charges

. from his gallant partisans, convinced the

Tories that they had no hope, and breaking
in disorder, they fled to the bar-rooin of the
“ Mounted Monarch,” closing and’ barring
the door, and leaving their wounded on the
A loud and protracted shout from
the victorious Whigs, attested their satis-
faction at the result of the fight, when they
turned their attention to the care of their

wounded friends.

In the confusion, of the retreat, the stran-
ger for a moment forget that Fitzgerald. was
entirely in the ‘hands of his enemies, he hav-
ing left him sitting, or rather reclining in
the bar-room, as the place where he would
be most likely to be secure. from. molesta
tion, He saw his danger in a moment, and
hurriedly announced the fact to the Whigs,
Jn a body they rushed up to the piazza, and
tried the door, but it withstood their ut

most exertions to force it open.

They then rushed to the window. and
found the fears of the stranger fully verified.
A stout rope was attached to a heavy stuple
in one of the beams above the floor of the

room. at one end of which was a noose. l-

, mediately under the rope was a chair, around

which stood two or three of the, discomfited
wretches, their faces clotned in smiles of
hellish delight. Four others of the ruffians
were dragging the bruised and _ bloody
Fitzgerald from the corner in which he hag.
been left by his friend, toward the ropa

 

 
THE SILVER POND. 2B

laying open plainly, their ‘intentions with
regard to thé unfortunate youth. He was

resisting tothe best of his feeble ability, °

whilst his eyes were turned in a supplica-
tery manner, towards Justice Frisbee, who
stood in front of the fireplace, looking on
sullenly, at the gloomy preparations.

One glance showed the stranger, who
‘stood in front of one of the narrow windows
of the inn, the extent of the danger of his
friend, and his quick mind as instantly form-

a plan of action. His eye flashed like
eagle’s, and his broad chest heaved, as
he shouted—

“Don’t beg, Fitz! Don’t beg the value
of a hair from the hell-hounds !”

A shout of derision was all the notice the
Tories deigned to bestow upon this exhor-
tation to the shrinking youth, except to
point significantly at the barred and heavy
door. 'The next moment, however, a blow
from the stranger’s heavy club, sent a glass
and sash of the window across the room, and
ere a man could station himself at the aper-
ture, to keep back the assailants, his elated
form bounded into their midst, and Justice
Frisbee and one of Fitzgerald’s would-be
executioners, lay senseless on the floor.

The Whigs followed resolutely in the
footsteps of their gallant leader, and again
the bloody and desperate affray was renew-
ed. The Tories, however, were utterly dis-
Pirited, and unbarring the door, they fled to
their homes, without making scarcely a show
of resistance. Fitzgerald was soon at liber-
ty. and it was left for him to decide. whe-
ther frisbee sould be executea in nis piace,

rbe permitted to pucket nis valueless fe,
and seek his home.

* Let him go ! let him go, friends: his ex-
ecution would but add a stain to our glori-
ous victory ; and beside that, the greatest
punishment that can be inflicted upon a
wretch so vile, is to let him live.”

This conclusion #28 assented to,,.and
Frisbee, overjoyed at his undeserved ana
unexpected , deliverance, departed for his
home, crestfallen and gloomy.

The wounded, without distinction of
party, werenow biought into the house, in
order that their, various hurts, might be at-
tended to. Only two were found to.be dan-
gerously wounded, one froma. rifle ball, and
one from a wound in the breast, caused by
a hunting knife. _Many others were serious-
ly cut and bruised, among whom,was Doc-
tor Bleed and several of the Whigs.

Gersham Morse was brought out from his

hiding place in the kitchen, and with a rue-

ful visage, looked upon the ruins of his win-

dow which were scattered in every direction
about the floor. _ He, however, did not com-
plain,,as his property was fairly, in possed-
sion of his enemies, and he deemed it expe-
dient to defer mourning over his grievances,
until some more. fitting opportunity.

Beds were prepared for the two men most
desperately wounded, and after sundry po-
tations of toddy, and innumerable. grimaces
and. contortions,, Doctor Bleed examitied
their wounds, dressed them, and left them)
with a.solemn shake of the head, to’ the
eare of a merciful Providence.”

The others with the assistance of com
trades, and sundry canes that were pressed
into, the service, started for their homes,
wondering at the blindness and impetuosity
of human passions, The swanger received

many a warm squeeze of the hand.and hearty’

benédiction, beside many a pressing ipvita-
tion to go to a, Whig, dwelling, tor retresh-
ment and repose: as his friends were . fear-
ful.of his welfare. when lett alone. and, ex-
posed to the attack of toes, m the nouse.ol
a foe, but he laughed at their tears, and po-
litely declined their proffered hospitalities.

When all but Fitzgerald had departed. he
turned to the youth and said.

 
 

;

 

journey cn my way.

linn together.

24 THE Scour, OF...

* ‘New, my lad, [ll see you home, and
My participation im
this little action, might’ possibly cause my
detention fora few days, in this right loyal

settlement, and, to say truth, [had much ra-

ther decline the tarry ‘at this particular
A

time.”

Turning to Gershem, he inquired the
amount of the reckoning, discharged it, and
taking the hand’ of ‘his friend, they left'tie
As they left the piazza, the
stranger turned ‘toward him With a look of
andisguised interest, and eagerly asked :—

“In-God's’ name, Fitz) how came you
here, and where in this hotbed of Toryism
‘ia your home?” ;

d. “T have
arifle,and ahunting knife, somewhere on
this-battle field, andl must ‘first find them.
God only knows what, will’ come of this

“Not'so faust!” said Fitzgeral

night’s' proceedings”

“Come of it!
x, to be-sure ;” Suid ‘the ‘stranger, as they
“Who

Why, what can come of

turned toward the scene 'of” strife.
struck tite first blow’?

“T did.”

* Inoself-defence, of course?” qitickly
interposed the stranger.

“Why—yes—I believe—I' know they
were about to assail us, and I'did' not think
‘tibest to await their attack.”

“All right, most assuredly !” ‘said the
stranger. ‘Neither the law nor justice’ com-
pels'a man, when actitig ‘in self-defence, to
await an attack that may prove futal, before
he makes'a-démoifistration !”

They liad now arrived atthe’ spot desig-
nated by Fitzgerald’ asthe place where the
scuffle took place for the rifle, and where
he had drawn his knife, but neither of the
weapons could be found. After a long and
patient ‘search they were comy-lled to give
them ipa lost, thie s ‘ange?

smarking at
the’ sanie time "

‘propriated them to their own_ uses.

se They hay e attracted the attention. of
some_of the retreating Tories, and obeying
an instinct of their natures, they haye ap
They
will come to light eventually, and then you
can reclaim them.”

“T do not like their disappearance ;” said
Fitzgerald. “If the two men in theyinn
should die; trouble, may come -to., it...,I8
they survive, I care nothing about the wea-
pons.”

“ What interest have you in. their. fates,
Fitz °” :

“Simply this. I wounded them both e
“The devil you did! cried the, stranger
ina tone that blended both surprise aad
admiration. “ Ponmy word, boy, you rust
join une: continentals. You would rise te
distinction ma short time.”

“ This little affair to-night, as you are
pleased to term it, may cause me.to rise
some ten or twelve feet, and in that case it
will be unnecessary for me to Join the
army ;” said Fitzgerald, in a tone, haif
jesting, half-sad,

“Pooh! nonsense! You mean by the
gallows | suppose, in the rise you contem-
plate. Never fear any trouble, even trom
your own conscience. Civil law is, at end
in these Colonies, and it’s a hard matter to,

tell when, if ever, it will rule us again.—,,

Every man now-a-days carries his law m,

his steady aim, and his strong arm. Even if
this was not the case you have nothing, to
fear, and would ‘be justified. Come, now,
Fitz, answer me the questions I propound-
ed, some half hour or more ago,
is your home, and how came you here 2”

«Is it possible that you do nut know ?”

Ee Certainly ; ; else I should hot ask,”

Where have you been. that you have
not heard that Sinclair had left Boston, and
retired to this secluded, and almost unknown

valley ”

WwW. here.
face.

THE SILVER POND. QS

The suwanger stoppea, short! at this».an--

although the’ clinging) life »yet animdtes her

aouncement, and gazed earnestly inthe lad’sedrooping frame; / The casket ‘is' there, ‘but

drifted snow, and, a, wild; unhealthy. fire

gleamed; from. his dark.eyes/ yHe: grasped |

kis comrade tightly, by, the arm, (and)inila

_voice, startling, . from its forced .and smoth-
,ered calmness; he asked

“ And she, where is sh.”
. “Here too;” replied Augustus, looking
ap, into his, comrade’s face with a,teartul
eve, .

In a moment after they resumed. their
walk toward Sinclair’s residence, the stran-
‘ger supporting the steps of the ‘still weak m
‘Youth, with his stalwart arm, although “his
own gait was wild and unste: ady, frorn ex-
ertement. Not a word was uttered until
they reached the gate ‘that opened into the
little lawn, immediately in front of the man-

‘sion!

“ Heré is his home” said 'Fitzgerald;"as “!

they hilteds'*Here is ‘his hore, ‘atid here
would be my helli were itnot for one’bright

angé) that/affords me consolation.”

“ And'shé, is now within »these; walls. ;?
said the stranger, as if speaking. his reflec-
tions aloud, and seemingly. giving mo. heed
to his companion...“ And she, is. now, within
those walls, and,a few, a very few..steps,
would, take. me,to. her, presence !.. It; must,

not be, however, no; it cannot be!”

©

» he voice in which the. stranger, uttered;
these words, was perfectly calm and free
from excitement, yet so husky, so hollow,

rnd_so like the sepulchral echoes associated

with.a lonely. graye yard, in the minds of ;

the young and timid, that Fitzgerald felt the
cold chills/¢reeping, through his veins, and
hei actually’ recoiled a. step or two! from
nis comrade. Ina moment’ he resumed ‘his
situation, and’ feéling that ‘it was best to
reply, he said

“Yes. she is there ; there in her grave,

His countenance» was pale, as” the.

~ J do not live,so near here Fitz ;

 

the em is nol there. The'harp is ——.”
Say no: more for God’s sake, Fitz; say
no) njorel »!I)may not hear “you, and live!
At least Iimay not: hear you‘and 1etain’ my
reason.) What:accursed fate las driven her
so; hear imny owniabode.” 3
Doi yourthen: live here?” eagerly’en-
quired; Fitzgerald; rejoiced ‘at'an opportuni-
ty of changing the. discourse, “Oh! J. am
80 glad, for, can yisit you,”
Tn faet,
T have no abode, Business sometimes calla
me for weeks together, some twenty mile,
or thereabouts to the northward, and even
But

come Fitz, sit with me one moment upop

frequently through the. settlement.
the green bank, across the road. You are

young ‘and’ innoedit, aiid , would ask yous

ty

advice.”
‘They crossed the road, and seated them
selves upon the road bank, upon the grassy
turf,

“Ts that light burning in her room?” in
quired the stranger, pointing‘to a window
in, the, uppers part of thee dwelling, alinest
entirely-Shaded by» woodbines, through the
interstices\of which: the/rays-of a candle
were; stneamings
replied)

“Her: room is: on) the jower

rif! Yoyo that is Rachebs room “
Fitzgerald:
floor.”

* No, matter! I) need) not’ tell you Fitz

- that after all tie past, 1 cherish that woman’e.

honor, as dearer than my soul.”

“T know. you, do ;.and. right. well I- know
it!” cried the, youth, eagerly.

Well, Fitz, 1 amin the possession ofin
formation, that, it ig of; the. utmost: inpors
tance for her to know. | Some weeks ago, J
indited an epistle, which I have. witn me, in
the folds of my frock, andiwhich 1 had. in
tended to forward to her, at Boston, the first

 
 

26 THE SCOUT OF

epportunity. It contains nothing dishonor- except to hunt upon tke neighboring hills
able or that coud by any manner of means. for game.”
compromise her in the eyes ofeven a;Turk.. “No matter, you cannot fail of finding me,
4 couid nave sent it to its destination some There is a little inn at Warland, kept by
tune since, but I have hesitated. I could ‘oxe Tommy Williams as we ‘call him, fami-
not place that implicit confidence ‘in ‘the ‘liarly.° ° Either conte, of write to him, and I
messenger, that I felt ought to, before en- shall. speedily ‘be’ informed of all. Place
trusting him with a mission so delicate, and all confidence in Williaing, for he will never
then totell youthe truth, Ihave hesitated deceive you.”
about the propriety of sending it at all”) \ 7 Shall never remember the name, and I
“Give it to me! ‘cried Fitzgerald, his Cannot’see to write;” replied Fitzgerald, as
eyes beaming with delight. “If it is any his comrade seized his hand, preparatory to
thing that she ought to know; any thing his leave-taking.
that will afford her a moment's consolation; “Oh! you cannot mistake. There is but
keep it not back. ~ Iswill bear it toher my- one inn, and one inn-keeper in the place’
self, for [am sure you can place implicit You can remember, Warland, and that ita
confidence in me.” direetion is north from this place.’

“Yes, Fitz, and you shall bear it to her.” _ “1 think Ican;” replied Fitz,

The stranger placed in Fitzgerald’s hand _ “ And now my good fellow ;”, said (the
a packet of some weight, and size; which stranger, with somewhat of a tremor in. his
the latter carefully deposited in, his cap. voice; “Farewell! We may meet again ,
The stranger sat in silence, for a few mo- at least, trust we shall. Watch over that
ments, and then, hastily getting on his feet, woman as if she were your sister, and min-
he said, ister to her comfort and her consolation, for

“ Fitz, I must away! Ere the morning Tam sure he will not. Farewell!”
dawns, | must place several miies between Fitz brushed the tears from his eyes, with
me and Gleamington, else { may disappoint the hand that the stranger relinquished, and
one who is expecting me, and whose disap- When he turned to look for him, he had ‘dis-
pointment would prove an evil to ouxstrug/ appeared. The youth gazed earnestly up!
gling and oppressed country, ‘Should any the diinly defined road, and once or twice
trouble occur: in consequence of this row! caught the outline of his retreating figure
let me know it.” In a few moments after, he entered the

“How shall [find you!) Where shall I lawn. and walked 5riskly toward the house
eome or send in case I should need your ad Just as he stepped upon the piazza, a light
™ce ?” hand was Jaid upon his shoulder, and look-

~ Aye! to oe sure, that must be consider. ing partly around, he discovered Miss Rachel

ed;” suid the stranger, musing. “T had Morris by his side.

“So; Sir truant; #) pretty frightening
you liave:caused us: all to-night by your un-
seemly tarry: upon the hills !”

“Fright !,I am sure I can not see, any
thing to be frightened at, in a few hours’

nearly 1orgotten that point, myself. Do you
«now any persons’ in’ Warland, some eight
miles to the northward ofthe settlement.”
“Not a ‘person;” replied Fitz. “ Since
my arrival here [ have not left the valley,

 

a (hUceFlU:;k
3,

I=

_, with your gun.

THE SILVER POND

stroll. upon the hills, at a somewhat later
tume. than usual; but I suppose that you
women are privileged to enjoy) a fright, just
when the humor takes you!”

“ But how were we to’ know, you were
not killed ?” urged his fair companion, as
they entered the house’ 1nd commenced as-
eending the’ stairs. | “Such occurrences are
not uncommon among sportsinen, and might
as well happen'to you, who are always busy
= am’ sure I heard the re
port of your fifle, some two’ hours since, and

where have you tarried since then 2”
“Killed !” muttered the youth musingly,
and seeming not to hear the Jatter interro-

“Aye! and I
would have been killed, if he had not inter-

gatory of his fair questioner,

posed his strong arm!”

“ What upon earth are you talking about,
and why don’t you answer my question ?s
interrupted Rachel.

me think you tarried at the “Mounted Mon-

*“ You almost make

arch,” by your unsteady gait,and incoherent
talk |”

“Tiumph! Well, good. night, my gentle
guiz; you of course will not wish to con-
verse’ to-night, with one whose brain is mud-
dled with Tory toddy., Perhaps after a few
hours of repose Lean answer your enquiries

colierent manner.”

They had now arrived at a passage way,
vpposite which was Rachel’s room, the door
of which she left open when she descended
the stairs to meet Fitzgerald, for whose safe-
ty she had entertained fears, and whose pro-
longed avseuce caused her vigils, Direcuy
spposite the door, was a small table, upon
which her Jamp was burming, and threw a
strong bright light into te passage, As
Augustus uttered his “good night,” he az
rived at the doorway, and the light shone

foli and fair upon ‘un, Reenet Morris,

27

uttered a loud screain, staggered a few
paces, and fel! senseless upon the floor.

The servants’ apartments. were close ad
hand, andthe scream’ aroused them from
their slumbers. Half awake, they leaped
from their beds, and rushed towards Rachel’s
room. \ As Soon as they saw Fitzgerald, his
face frightfully swollen and: covered with
blood, and his garments hanging in tatters
about him, they turnediand run down stairs,
vociferating “ murder!” at the top of their
lungs, and scattering chairs and tables in
every direction, in the ‘terror and heedlese-
ness of their flight.

The din and confusion awoke Sinclam,
and a man servant that occupied a sleeping
apartment adjoining the kitchen, and they
rushed into the lower hall, provided with
lights, and armed with whatever they could
command in ‘their flight.

“ What in God’s name, means this noize ”
exclaimed Sinclair, when at length his eyo
caught the figures ofthe two maids, whe
were crouching in terror at the foot of the
staircase. “ What is the meaning of this
noise.

“Miss Rachel is murdered!) On! dear;
she is surely ‘murdered, for we saw the
tobber!”

Both Sinclair‘and the man servant! rished
up the staircase, and were soon in Rachel
room. The young lady had in 9 great mea-
sure recovered from her fainting. and was
seated in a large arm chair, whither she
had been carried by the terrified fitzgerald,
and the youth was busily engaged wn bath-
ing her temples wil aromauc vineyar, a
pottie Of whicii He vad tounc amonast the
toulet rinkets of ber dressing table,

Su clair recoiled a step or two as this
woe-begone figure, met his view. He shad-
ed his eyes with his hands as if fearing the

sanity of his sight, when, becoming convine

 

 

 
 

28 ~ THE SCOUT OF

ed that it was indedd -his*ward hat was be-
fore him, Hieash3d—

“Fitzgerald |, why;do, you appear in’ this
masquerade to frighten people; at. this un-
seasonable lours .Such practices should
be beneath a young man of your age?!”

“As to the masquerade ;” retorted Fitz
gerald, somewhat :tartly, “you. must ask
your especial] friends and favorites, the ‘To
ries. As tovits being» beneath me to come
bome at this hour, whether it be seasonable,
or unseasonable, isa question upen which
gou and me would inall probability, widely
Fiffer.”

“You do not surely mean to convey the
idea that your present uncouth and: fright-
‘ful appearance is any thing more than a
boyish freak, got: up toofrighten my ‘house-
old?”

“I mean to say,,Str, thit Iam hot) peou-
Niarly partial to masquerades, more ;|especi-
ully of the: kind in which I: now seem 'to:ap-
pear.
by this glass here is indeed somewhat

My present appearence, which | see

‘nghtful, although I wasinot/aware-of it un-
till had scared Miss Rachel, is caused by
asevere cngagement, with your) particular
iends-the-Tories, some of whonywill pro-
bably have cause to remeiber it, among the
curious incidents of their lives ?.,
;.* You have been assaulted, then 2”
“ Yes, assaulted some,.an1. battered : con-
siderably, as you can readily perceive.”
“This is singular, and. sertainly , de-
manus.an explanation, which, .preguime you
will be willing,ta give ?”

“ At ‘a “proper time, | but not to-night.
Miss Rachel, 1 perceive, has about'réecover+
ed from ‘her fii¢lit; and ‘I feel much in° need
of quiet and reposey “Indeed, I am much
confused in memory just now, and could not
giveryou a succinet account of the fracas,
if I should, endeavor soto do!”

The terrified maids*had ventured to ap-
proach, the room of the young lady by this
time, and as it was deemed expedient to
postpone. farther enquiry into the nature. of
Fitzgerald’s _ calamities, until morning,
they were ordered to, assist Miss Rachel te
bed, whilst Sinclair, Augustus, and the man
servant, departed to their several rooms. A
few steps from the doorway of the room in
which they’ had been standing, Sinclair
stooped, and picked up a package, which he
quietly placed in his dressing-gown folds,
unseen by any oné,’save his pale and agi-
tated wifé, who was standing at the head of
the stairway, having also been aroused by
the outcry.

Fitzgerald threw himself upon his bed,
immediately after his arrival in his own
room, dvéerjoyed at the discovery hé had ae-
cidentally made; wih regard'to the feelinga
entertained toward him by’Rathel ‘Morria
Would she have kept: so long and wear
sore ® vigil, of his'account,:if she had not
loved him? Then again, would’.she have
been go shocked at his bruised and bloody
appearance, if his we fare had not heen naez
her heart?

 

 
=] 8&8 F

nil

THE SILVER: POND a

CHAPTER'YV:.

Degpite ths pain of his brnises, Augustus

voon feel asleep, and did not awake. until

Whenhe
attempted to arise, he could scarcely. move

mear'y noon the succeeding day.

his stiffened limbs, neither could he see

plainly where to direct his. motions., By. dint
of perseverance, however, he at length ac-
complished the task, and a thorough ablu-
tion greatly relievéd the soreness of his flesh,

and enabled him to.see, with considerable

| distinctness and pregision. ..He searched his

little chests of nostrums jand..specitics, of
which he had,laid in,a,supply before leaving
Boston, iu order to meet any little casualties
that might occur in his chases in the, forest,
and procured an unctuous compound,.espac-
ially recommended for cuts and brnises, with
which he dressed his limbs and, face, after
whieh he descended to the kitchen in search
of breakfast,

\

He soon concluded his repast, as’ his
appetite was not keony and determined upon
8 stroll to: thebinks» of the little: tivalet,
where he contd seat himself. beneuth the
shade: of 2 treeysand) roflect coolly “and
tally: upon the events of the past night.
Heiaccordingly loitered lmpingly and slow-
ly toward his destination, enjoying'the fresh
breezes that swept across the flowér-decked
meadows, laden ‘with the richest perfumes.
Once or twiceLe: fincied thaphe detected
the:figuie of a female, upon’ the banks | of
thelittle stream, but; -ascit! was notcunusual

for the daughters of, the villagers te) tray
that way, in quest of berries, and wild, flow.
ers, he thought, nothing of.the circumstanve,
and when at lust he seated-himself beneath
the branches, of'a fayorite elim,: he had: én
tirely forgotten the. incident.

“[twould!be'a dificult matter’to tell the
varied and perplexing thoughts that harras
sed the mind of the youth, after he sat hit
self downs for reflectidm’> Hee could quite
clearly }rememberctke ‘turbulent’ scenes of
the prévious evening, and now’ that his pas-
sions had.subsided, and his*blood was ¢ool
bitterly deploredithe probuble consequences
of the fierce affrfy. He had marked ‘weil
the! expression of Sinelair’s’ countenance,
when he spoke of his encounter with’ the

Tories; cand:litthedid-he like the dark scowl!

that, flitted;across/it, lingering but for ‘a’

moment, but: showingoeven’ incthit « brier’

space, that the announcement was received
in anger.

His, guardian: knewothat he » cherished
Whig: sentiments, anddad from the com
mencement }of the ‘difficiilty between the

mother country iand theeolonies;

Ife had even pretended to labor with him,
invanargimentative manner, in regard. to
his:principles, yet Augustus plainly percery-
ed) that he was regarded in: the tight ofa
mere youth, whose-prejudices: and «feelings

were of no moment, and whowas incapable

of judging; «lisernmmately, between the. right’

a

 

 
 

and the wrong. This afiray, he reflected,
would probably open his guardian's eyes to
the fact, that if he did not make a man in
prgument and sophistry, he at least made a
man ina battle, and that was the most ef-
fective way in which a partisan could be
used.

He was cut short in these perplexing co-
gitations, by hearing his name pronounced
in accents that caused his blood to thrill.

“Reflecting, are you, my romantie young
tioter, upon your’ last night’s adventure. I
shall be greatly rejoiced if reflection brings
repentance. In fact I would not mind my
fright in the least, to say nothing about the
flourishing beauties of your countenance
this morning, ifthe affair would teach you
to be at home betimes, and leave bad com-
pany to their own amusements!”

‘All this was uttered in a laughing. tone,
and soon after Rachel Morris seated lier
self beneath the tree, beside the perplexed
and blushing youth, if, indeed, he could
blush through the discoloration of his mani-
oid bruises. -

“ Hasy, if you please, Miss Rachel. The
lesson will probably benefit mea vast deal,
but 1 may not be blameable for putting my-
self in a way to receive it: People cannot
always choose their.own company, especi+
ally in these turbulent times.”

“All very true, and very fair, Sir Sorrow-
fal, but they cin at\least choose to have no
company, if they care not whom to accept
as companions. ‘Now, I showld deem no
company at all preferable to:'that which you
eeem to have met with last night.”

“ Atruce to these ungracious lectures,
Mies Rachel, and if'in your case the matter
78 to'be accomplished, be a little serious, and
®nswer me a few questions.”

“Well said, indeed!” cried the little tor-
wentor, with a smile of mock seorn curling

 

THE SCOUT OF

her full, red lip. “Well eaia, I declare
If seriousness is to be accomplished by me
I never was more serious in my !ifo, I caa —
You talk aa if |
it was not a serious matter to be scared out
of one’s senses, and then to be obliged ta

live in a family with such a roffian-looking
fellow as you are, this morning, for an ac-
quaintance !”

assure you, than I am now.

Fitzgerald saw that the only way to avoid
his companion’s sarcasm, was to affect in-
The little
beauty looked for some moments as if she
expected a reply, but receiving none she
rattled on:

difference and maintain silence.

“J do not wonder that yon are dumb. It
is; however, a good symptom that you de
not seek to palliate your offence. It shows
that you are yourself convinced of its enor-
mity, and cannot find it in your conscience
to say aught in extenuation. T fancy that
this experiment will work a cure, and acting
upon that belief, I am now ready to answer
any question that you may properly ask.”

“Well, then, have-you seen my guardian
to-day ?”

“T saw him at breakfast, of course.”

“Did he allude to the ‘ scene’ last night #'

“Not at all!”

“Did he enquire for me ?”

“No!”

“ That is strange, most certainly.”

“{ think,” replied Rachel, the serio-come
expression of her face, that had been assum.
ed for the purpose of tormenting her lover,
giving away to one of the utmost serieus-
ness, “I think I never saw my uncle more
gloomy, or morose, than he was this.morn-
ing. My aunt, thank fortune, did not meet
us at breakfast, else | am sure more scenes
of violence would have been enacted”

Fitzgerald arose and seated himself near

er the person of his fair companion, and
cSETlUcelleelUr CU

THE SILVER POND. 31

taking her hand gently within his own, he

said— '

“I know you are ro be trusted, Bachel
anc | shall commit a secret to your keeping.
1 saw him lasv night.”

“Who?” inquired his companion, turning
slightly pale, whilsc Fitzgerald could per-
e¢ive a tremor in the hand he yet retained.

“ Edward Vernon!” '

The fair girl started as if'a mine had ex-
ploded at her feet, at the mention of this
name, It was some minutes before she
could command her utterance, during which
time Fitzgerald remained silent. At length
she inquired in a low voice, as if fearful
that ‘the leaves, or the running streamlet
might hear—

“ Where was he, when you saw him 2”

“1 saw him at the ‘Mounted Monarch’
first; after that he Maro me to the
gate in front of the awn,’

“ He then was aware hat she had re-
moved here ?’

“Not until I informed him; and I re-
pented sincerely, after I had disclosed the.
fact.”

“Ol Augustus; how could you haye
beén so thoughtless.

bubjéct would have been a kindness to him,

and might have been the means of prevent-

ing bloodshed.”

“Aye! said the youth bitterly; there
das bloodshed, and but for his strong arm,
Ushould not now be here.”

" Nay, I mean not the bloodshed that has
passed ; T'mean bloodshed to come., You
know he vowed a terrible revenge upon my
uncle, and that it wasa feeling of insecurity
that prompted him to leave Boston, and

withdraw to this retired place, keeping his
intended residence a secret from all, save
his nearest friends,” ‘

“Aye! I know al that; but I would
pledge mv nen tife, that your uuce has

Silence upon. that.

nothing to fear at the hands. of Vernon, ex:
cept indeed he should offer him insult.» i
was not for fear of bloodshed, that I regret
tod. having informed Edward | of our resi

, dence here; it was, for his, feelings thato'

cared ; for his.own trueand generous heart:

“How.did he bear the tidings ?”

“ With forced caltaness. Like a man of
strong passions struggling with feelings al-
most too strong forcontrol. No murinur or
threat. escaped ‘him, yet I couldisee his soul

was wrung to agony.”

“Poor man!” exclaimed Rachel, with a
look of deep commiseration ; “ that ill-star-
red?marriage has broken two hearts, and

my foolish uncle has tasted gall, where he_,

expected honey.”

“Marriage !” exclaimed Fitzgerald, with
a sneer of scorn; “do you call that hollow,
impious mockery a marriage, Rachel! ,It
hever was a marriage in the sight of God;
nay, it is not even a marriage in thé sight
of men !”

“ Hush, foolish boy ! you mean not jwhat
you say. You surely would not wish to
reflect discredit on my aunt!”

“No,nor does my assertion reflect. dis-
credit upon her. She herself does not re-
gard it in the light of a marriage, and has
steadily refused both in word or deed,.te
consider herself as. wedded to your. uncle:

She is in every sense a; prisonerof war.”

“T know, I know that she has refused;
and still refuses to»consider my uncle vas
her husband, yet the world, whose fiat: is
irrevocable, persists in regarding them as
man and wife.”

«The seeds) hal ha!” cried Fitzgerald
witha laugh of derision. “The Tory world
of Boston, you mean! The Hutchinson’,
the Gage’s, the Constant’s and the Georges
You will find, however, that their opinion

do not carry much weight out of the circles

 

|
|
|

 
 

 

ie
mwhich they’move.\| Disinterésted perzons
sew the matter differently?

“Let us not) talk upon ‘this’ unpleasant

matter,” replied Rachel witha ‘sorrowing’

icoks 1“ You have'not told’me yet the par-
.icnlars of your encounter ‘last night, nor
in what manner Veériion' saved ‘your Tife.”

Fitzgerald then detailed'to his‘deeply in-

terested companion the histéry“of the melee’

at. the “ Mounted! Monareh,”" concealing
none of the factsporlsecking ‘todisavise in
any manner his own participation inthe
affair.
cue of his own person, by Edward. Vernon,

He dwelt eloquently upon the, res-

and the manner ir which he drove.the,af-
Sighted Tories from, Gersham’s,,bar-room.
When he had concluded his narrative, the
tears were trinkling freely down. the cheeks
of‘his companion, anil ‘even his own were
vot ‘unmoistened by the briny fluid.

There is something seriously alarming in
eveti the remotest suspicion of the commis-
sion of a wrong, in the breasts of the inno-
cent aid young, and both Fitzgerald ‘and
his mére'timid Companion experiended this
feeling in its fall force. ‘ They both remain-
ed silent for a longtime, after the recital of
the*narrative, each endeavoring to stifle the
dawning conviction that serious consequen-
ces'to hoth would ‘yet aride frointhe tetur-

“ce

Fitzgeralil was the first to"break the ‘sit
sence.
from his' mistress) for the parti he ‘hadoacted

‘n the murderous: scene, yet he’ winted*to”

hear that justification’ from ‘her. owr' lips!
Hertherefore asked=-

“Do you think, Rachel, that T-have acted
olaineable i’ this’ ‘matter ?° My owh ‘con-
scienvetiolds me guiltless, yet 1 will not
disguises
did Iknow that yo foo could justify ine in
what) Ihave done.

rel,,and after it had’ been commenced:

the fact. should feel more at eaze

1) da# Sot’seek’ the quar-

 

He didnot "doubt a justification,’

“PHR sour oF’

could Hot leave it “without dishonor, and 3

need uot tell you, that I dread dishonor

more’ than T’ever yét have dreaded death.”

The maiden lodked up into his face and
endeavored to force a smile, but it was
ghastly and’ unnatural.
plied promptly, and with firmness—

“Tam not skilled in drawing nice dir-
tinctions, or in elucidating intricate, points
of right and wrong } yet Tam compelled te

‘say that T'cannot see wherein you are guilt

1d OUI TLL oa : .
of any crime, or any intended crime. It ie
true, you confess you gave the nrst blow
but even that was in self-defence.”

“© That is true. I knew that attack waa

‘certain, and'T did not know when, or from

what quarter it would come. My de--”

9

“Surely!” exclaimed Rachel, hastily a
rising from her seat, and coloring to her
very temples, “there must be some one i

search of me from the house, and by weir
haste, the busind: At the same

»

 

is urgent.

 

time she pointed to the figure of’ a female
advancing through the meadow with ah
speed.

Fitzgerald also arose, and both himaeif

and his companion moved in the. direction
of the house. They soon discovered. tha
advancing female to be one of the domes

tios of the family, and as soon.as they ap-

proached within speaking distance, Fitz

gerald asked—

“What do you wish, Margaret? Are
you in search of us?”
he;
breath almost exhausted, and her counte-
“Oh
tiurry to” the house, Mr. Fitzgerald, 1 am

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed the girl,
nance palid, from fatigue and terror.

sure he Will kill her!”

“Kill who?” cried Augustus in amaze
ment,

“Dear Mrs. Sinclair! Ie drags her by,
the hair, and swears most furiously about

the letter: | am sure—*

She however re

{
THE SILVER POND.
Fitzgerald waited to hear {nomore. «His:

wounds, his-swollen limbs, all were instant-
ly forgotten, and he dashed offas nirmbly: as
if his cords and muscles had been:fitted for
a prize cace. .148 few moments'tie entered
the dwalling, and heard. thewoice : of Sin-
clair in the -ittle parlor, opposite! the dining
som.
Answer me, bythe eternal: God! or I
sa Tid your paramour ofa «mistresspand
self of a dishonor! Who. brought you
@ letter? Tell me the traitor’s name ?”
A low moan followed this ‘brutal ‘threat,
‘and the next moment Fitzgerald burst open
the door, and ‘nearly fainted’ at ‘the scene
before him. Kneeling upon the floor, with
her hinds clasped and upraisec as if in
supplication was Mrs. Sinclair, the “blood
slowly trickling down her patid cheek,
whilst before her stood her husband, his
face swollen and distorted with the most
demoniac rage, with one arm uplifted, as if
to strike a blow, and the other wreathed in
the long bright locks of the supplicating
woman. Hestarted in surprise as the door
flew open, and Fitzgerald rushed into the
room, but he seemed determined not to be
baulked in his vengeance, for he retained
nis hold of the bright locks, neither did he
ower his upraised arm.

We have stated that a faintness oppress-
ad Augustus, as this scene burst upon his
msion, but it was only for a moment. His
courage wus of a daring, and. even rash de-
eription, and indignation, nay, hot anger,
usurped the place of faintness. Approach-
‘ng Sinclair with a firm step, he exclaimed:

“ Release that woman, or the—”

“Away minion!”: fiercely interrupted
Ginclair. “Away! or by the gods you too
ehall feel my vengeance, Leave the room;
this matter pertains not to you !”

“Sinclair!” cried Fitzgerald, his voice

trembling with suppressed
not urge me to fargetthe righ
ty. Release that woman, or the
ces rest upon your own head.

I say, this instant!”

Sinclair gazed for a moment at the youth,
the anger of'a tiger zlittermg in his eyes
when, suddenly, a'néw idea seemed to take
possession of'’his:mind. He released his
hold ‘upon the tresses of the kneeling Wo-
man, and ‘approaching Fitzgerald, drew a

letter from his pocket, and thrusting it to

ward him, asked—

“Do you know aught of that?”

The youth received the proffered pacquet,
and a glance at the superscription revealed
to him.ac once that it was the missive re-
ceived the previous evening from, Mdward
Vernon, and which he had promised faith-
fully to deliver to Mrs. Sinclair. By what
fatality he had dropped it, he had not time
to imagine, for he felt that the eyes of Sin-
clair were glowing upon his face, expecting
areply to his interrogatory. He slowly
raised his eyes from the envelope, and meet-
ing the fixed gaze of his interrogator, he
replied with an unwavering voice-—

«I brought that letter to the house”

‘From-whom did you receive it?’ in-
quired Sinclair, assuming a tone and air of
great calmness, although the effort caused
the perspiration to ooze inlarge diops upon
his forehead.

“ That is a question to which I shall nex
reply,” returned Fitzgerald. © When an in-
dividual, no matter what may be the motive
prompting him, basely steals the property or
information of another, his curiosity should
be satisfied by what his skill in pilfering
produces.”

Sinclair’s face was livid at this stinging

retort, and he sought to justify himself be-
fore his young accuser.

 

H
]

 
 

“Your insinvetion is utterly misplaced
and unfounded.
by that letter, having picked) it) up inymy

I:came honestly and fairly

own house. The fact that it was directed
to my wife, is a sufficient guarantee; that I
had-an, undoubted right to break the: seal,

and peruse the contents. I ask again, from

whom did you receive it?”

“And I reply again, that, from me you’

shal! never know. Your excuse may: satis-
y a conscience.as accommodating as yours,
but its very lameness is an aggravation of
your offence, in the eyes of a gentleman!”

“Wretch!” exclaimed Sinclair, unable
to retain his pent up passion longer ; “leave
the roof that you have dishonored, and the
hospitality you have abused, ere I too may
forget the ties between us, and punish upon
the spot, concuct that will yet receive its
deserts !”

“Tam con-ented to leave a villain, base

THE SCOUT OF

enoughito ‘lay ‘his ands” upon a female
whom» he calls his wife, but not at this time
shall I depart.» I'sball first’ see this'abtised
woman beyond the reach of your bratality

after which there will be‘a settlement be
tween you and me; That affair satisfac

torily. adjusted, I, will leave: you with? a
hearty good will!”

Sinclair 'rushed upon ‘tae youth, and in
the struggle which ensued, both fell‘upon
the floor. Here their exertions for the mas-
tery became desperate, but the ‘strife* wag
suspended on the entrance of Rachel,Mor-
ris, terror depicted upon her every linea-
ment, er hair disheyelled, and her! voice
tremulous and husky.

“For the sake of safety, Augustus, fly,
ere flight is impossible! The mob is ap-
proaching, and swear that your life alone
shall pay the penalty for, the lazt nighs'a
trangactions.”

 

sinensis
si aasnimsdiiai

THE SILVER POND B

CHAPTER VI.

Tar I ttle green in fiont >f the “ Mount-
ed Monarch,” and indecd tke little inn itself,
presented a deplorable picture on the morn-
ing after the affray. The grass in many
places was dyed with human gore, and
blood-stained clubs, and patches of garments

Jay about the charred remains of the bon-:

fire, in “ confusion worse confounded.” The
neighboring fences were thrown down, and
the materials of which they had been com
posed were scattered hither and thither,
whilst Gersham’s. dormitory looked like a
block house that had stood a protracted and
determined siege.

Before the rising of the sun, Gersham had
quitted his bed to attend to the wants of the
wounded men under his care, and even his
unpractised eye noticed a great and alarm-
ing change in their symptoms. One of his
maids was accordingly despatched for Doc-
tor Bleed; whilst another was sent for Ls-
quire Frisbee, whose counsel was needed
by the perplexed and distrusting landlord
But a short time elapsed before the arrival
of those personages, both of them suffering
severely from the treatment they had receiv-
ed from the hands of their adversaries, and
burning with a desire to revenge their in-
aries. The doctor proceeded. to.a careful
examination of the condition of the wound-
ed men, and at last declared emphatically
that they could not recover. Their friends
were accordingly sent for, and the doctor,
end Frisbec szcompanied bv the landlord,

retired to the bar-reom, to consuit on tha
measures that should be taken to punish the
victors.

As had been hinted by Vernon. in bis
conversation with Fitzgerald, after the af
fray;civil law was entirely laid aside in the
colonies.. The appointments and enact-
ments of the mother country, were univer-
sally disregarded by the colonists, and up
to 1776, they had not instituted courts and
legal officers of their own, in the place of
those they had rejected. To arraign their
enemies, therefore, before a civil tribunal,
was out of the question, and the worthy trio .
in the bar-room, were not long in coming ta
the conclusion, that they would rally all
their friends, who would far out-number the
Whigs, and relying upon their strength, ar-
rest the offenders, and administer laws ana
punishments, comporting with their own
peculiar views of right and wrong.

Whilst the plans for the consummation
of these designs, were yet progressing, num-
bers of the’ Tories who had participated in
the fight, beside others who had not, arrived
at the inn, some, to. compare: notes of the
transaction, and others to hear # descrip-
tion of the outburst. Jn ail, however, a de
sire for revenge was prominent, and mes-
sengers were despatched, tc secretly warn
all the adherents of the king’s cause, to re-
pair forthwith to the inn, in order that the
determinations might be carried into seffect,
before any of \he transgressors might became

 

 
   
    
    
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
 
   
   
    
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  

mformed of their ntentiors, and make good
their escape.

Promptly war this call obeved. In a
short space of sme, some thirty or forty
bad arrived at the little inn, and were scat-
tered in groups to survey the battle-ground,
or to denoance and stigmatize their enemies.
One of the men, wounded by the ball of
¥itzyerald’s rifle, had expired, and the other

lay gasping in the agonies of dissolution.

The friends: and femalerelatives of the ‘de-

ceased, mingled amongithe crowd, weeping
bitterly over their bereavement, and calling
for vengeance upon the murderer.
Foremost in inciting the crowd. to: ven-
geance,’ was Frisbee. ‘He had a powerful
coadjutor in the physician ; and alternately
they harangued ‘their partisans, and descan-
ted upon the necessity fora prompt and vig-
serous punishment of the Whigs, who. dared
to resist their insolence, and that ted at/a

time, when’ tidings of gloom ‘had reached

thein from ‘their army, and when it was pro-
bable that the great Washington’ was a
prisoner to Clinton, and the Continental
Congréss dispersed,’ and’ departed to their
homes.

These artful insinuations were dwelt upon
at lengt., in order to allay any fears of Allen,
end his determined co-laborers in the Whig
cause, which’ might exist in the / breasts of
sheir friends, some of whom ‘had felt. their
verigeance, and would not’ willingly put
heinselves again in the way of recognition.
They had the desired ‘effect, and’'vowed a
determination to drive the Whigs from the
Valley

The Whigs of the settlement, in the
meantime, were not unobservant of the un-

usual cathering of the Tories, and the un-
S 2 ?

1aguiséd yveparations ‘they were! making
“for an attack uponthem They’ hastily pre-

pared themselves to make all the resistance,

“yhat under the circuiistanees” thev could.

3 , THE SCOUT OF

  
 

yet the most gleomy sovebouinga filled then
minds. Messages were despatched to War-
land, to solicit from their Whig friends of j
that settlement, a sufficient reinforceiceut, ©
to enable them to protect their families and —
homes, from the danger which threatened |
them.

At about ten o’clock the individual wound- —
ed by the hunting knife of Fitzgerald, died ,_
and as he was connected with many of the |
most influential, Tories of the,settlement, —
the excitement against, the luckless Augua-
tus was increased to a/fearful pitch, and a .
demand was. vociferociously made, that, he
should be seized forthwith, and executed

in>front of the green .1n,the inn... It.was
suggested by some of the more thoughtful ©
of the assembly that, this would, be a diffi- .
cult matter, as the culprit, (as.they, termed —
him,) was under the protection’ of Sinclair ;
but the mass swore he was no friend of the
king, if-he would protect a Whig, who had

murdered their partisans. The leaders were
therefore compelled to assent to his, imme-
diate capture, and: twenty men, duly armed,
were forthwith detailed: for the service.
‘When this detachment. started-on. their

errand, Fitzgerald hed met the terrified ser- _
vant, as narrated in the previous chapter {
and had started at full speed for the man- ]
sion. Rachel Morris:was.so terrified atthe
report that she: staggered.toa seat, on ,the |

‘green grass, immediately after his depar —

ture, when she buried her face inher liands, —

and wept freely, not daring to approach the
house for fear of witnessing ‘a collisiot -be-
tween Sinclair and her hasty and impetu- .
ous lover.’ She was incited ‘to ‘exerticn, |
however, by the hurried approach of a

Whig, who had ' been’ sent to inform Fitz- |

   

gerald of his danger, and who urged her “te .

  
  

hasten to the mansior, and ‘warn himehim ©

 
 

to flee or join his frierds in the village.
Aroused toa sense of her lover’s'danger

      
he

a f.

&

THE SILVER’ POND.

she had started for the house, and arrived
as has been described, just as the affray
commenced between Sinclair and Fitzger-
eld. She also detected the ‘form ‘of Mrs.
Sinclair, lying senseless upon the. floor,
and after she had delivered ‘her warning,
she seized her in her arms, and witb an al-
most superhuman strength, bore her’ to an
apartment in another quarter of the house.
and forthwith administered the restoratives

that her case demanded.

By a vigorous effort, Fitzgerald succeed-

“ed im rnidéing himself of Sinclair's grasp,

and springing to his feet, with the announce-
ment ofhis new danger, yet ringing in his

ears, he exclamed,—

“ At another time, assassin, our difficulties
shall be righted. Beware of the day upon

which we meet again !”

Without waiting for Sinclair’s reply, he
left the room, taking care to turn the key,
which he luckily found upon the outside of
the door, and run up the staircase, to his
own apartment. Here he sat down and
penned a brief note ‘to Rachel, requesting
her, in the event of his capture to send in-
formation of the fact to Tommy Williams,
the inn-keeper at Warland. He then seized
&® pair of pistols and some’ ammunition lay-
ing upon the’ table, and ‘dashed’ down the
staircase, in doubt ‘and uncertainty which
way to fly. He halted for a moment in the
hall in order’ to collect his waidering’ facull-
ties, and as he ‘stood musing, Rachel ap-
proached him. Her eyes were’ red with
weepibdg, and her whole appearance denoted
freat mental distress,

“Take this note :” said Fitzgerald ‘in &
rembling tone. It will explain itself
when T atn gone.”

He seized her hand, and raised “it to. his

1p, when a ioud shout in front of the Tittle
awn, caused hitn to star’ aud his companion

7

turning with a Jerrified look tuward the déer,
exclaimed—

“Oh !“hasten' or you will be too late.
will ‘obey the’note, you need not’ fear for
that.

For a'mothent Fitzgerald hesitated as if

They’ are now at the gate !”

scoring to fly before his enemies, but the
appealing look of Rachel Morris, and his
own better reason prevailed, and he left the
mansion by the rear door, intending to gain
tne hills, and make the best of his way to
Warland,

a line! with the fénces, and by the | greatest

He. kept-as much’ as/ possible in

celerity of movement,succeeded in gaining
the opposite bank of the creek, widiscovered.

The sannouncement.; made by Rashel
Morris; forithe purpose of atcelerating tke
movements/of her Jover; thets the “ Tories
were at the gate 3) wasiindeed» true; and-in
a few minutes after the’ departure of Fitz-
gerald, they entered) the’: little lawn, and
drew, upin a ‘line in front/of.the mansiom
Here a,ha't and consultation took place, and
2s-no one appeared, upon..the, piazza ;to: in-
quire the reason of their visityand.a/l about

the house, appeared to be perfectly at rest,

it was determined that the. leader of the

gang should visit Mr. Sinclair in his room,
and make known to him the desires and in-
tentions of the Tory settlers of the Va'ley.
The Tory leader accordingly entered the
piazza, and rapped loudly at the closed door
for admittance, No one answered his sum-
mons, for in fact no one heard it, save Ra-
chel Morris, who was standing in another —
door at the extremity of the hall, watching
the flight of Augustus, with the most intense

solicitude. She knew that every moment
was inestimab'y precious to’ her lover, and

she therefore paid ‘no heed to the lowd:”

sounding and imperative rap.

Another summons soon” followed, louder
and’ more prolonged 'tham’the first, and) it
reached the ear of Sint au?) whe was pacing

 
 

 

bis yoom, wit impatient and unsteady, steps,
foaming with rage, and cursing the.whole
vorld as being in league against him. Ap-
vroaching the door of the room, and placing
fas mouth to the keyhole, he shouted “come
m;” and the ‘Tory, obeying the injunction,
epened the door, and entered the hall, . His
footsteps were heard by Sinclair, who cried:

“This way !. break open this door, if the
key lays not near it... Be in haste, for. it is
important !”

The ‘Tory looked surprised at the state of
affairs, and could not for :the life of him,
see how the proprietor of a dwelling, could
be locked up in his own castle, ‘againt his
will, and without the means of setting him-
self at liberty. He cast around him for the
key, and in doing so, he discovered the
figure of Rachel Morris, who had just closed
the door at the opposite end of the hall, and
was advancing toward him,

The disconcerted soldier, made an awk-
ward obeisance as the young lady ap-
proached, and'to her inquiry as to his er-
rand, he replied—

“« My errand, ma’am, is with Mr. Sinclair,
He

wishes me to find the key, or break down

and he I find is locked in his room.
the door, in order to liberate him !”

“Oh! T will get the key in a moment ;”
replied Rachel with a look of artlessness.
*Tt would be foolish as well a: useless to
break down the docr. I will be back in a
moment.”

She accordingly walked quickly to the
sxtremity of the hall, where, opening a side
door, she entered another room, leaving the
Tory standing in the’ doorway, perfectly
contented to wait her motions. Meantime
Mr, Sinclair, commenced kicking and shout-
ing vociferously, cursing the tardiness of
the man hehad ordered to break down. his
door.

Ile, was aware of the mission upon

THE SCOUT OF

 

which his vis tor had arrived, having heard
the announcement of Rachel, when engaged
with Fitzgerald, and he was fearful that
the youth, against whom he had suddenly .
conceived an intolerable hatred, should ess
cape the punishment he resolved to inflict
upon him, for his interference in the diffi
culties, existing between himself and his
wife,

“Open the door!” he. almost yelled:
kicking against it at, the same time, until
its stout panels rattled in the casements
Why do you
stand there gaping like a cursed fool as you

“Open this door, I tell you!

are, giving the traitor time to escape ?”

“Tn a moment, sir; inone moment | wi!
open the door. The young lady has gone
for the key, and—”

“Blamethe young lady, and you too! If
you do not burst it open immediately, I wil}
have you hanged on the first tree, as soon aa
I am set at liberty!”

“Then I shall be a cursed fool truly, if I
let you out at all ;” doggedly replied the
Tory. “TI don’t believe, however, that you
can do all you tell for, so I will open the -
door when the key comes and not before.
So you may as wel] keep cool !”

Sinclair mentally groaned, and_gnashed
his teeth in a rage, at the stubborn. disposi-
tion manifested by the Tory, buthe felt that
farther parley would be useless, and, fold.
ing his arn:s_1pon his breast. in a dignified
manner, he awaited the arrival of the: key.

As may well be supposed, Rachel Morris
was in no particular hurry to return .to her
waiting friend, and as to the key, she knew
nothing about its disappearance or its where-
abouts Sie however hunted, amidst. boxes
and baskets, and cupboards, with the great+
est industry and particularity, and when she
had prolonged her absence to the latest mo-
ment thet she dared, she returued to the
_ THE SILVER, POND.

waiting Tory, and with a solemn visage,
declared. that the lost. key could not be
found, j

It)now became apparent to the Tory lead-
ery, that Mr..Sinclair, must be permutted ‘to
remain in “ statu quo,” or the lock must be
foreed trom the door. He accordiugly jask-
ed for an axe, or a. hammer, with which to
accomplish his object, and the. willing Ra-
chel again set out, ina search for those arti-
eles, Consuming all the time she dared,
she at last returned with the desired imple-
ments, and after a quarter of an hour of
hard labor, bestowed by the Tory, Sinclair
was set at liberty, swearing a most tecrible
vengeance upon all who had in any way
connived at ar confiuansens,

After waiting a few moments, for the sub-
siding of his wrath, the Tory opened the
object of his visit. He stated that the two
men; who had been wounded by Fitzgerald
on the previous evening, had died, and that
the Tories in council, had unanimously de-
cided that Fitzgerald was a murderer, and
that he should be executed as such, on the
little green in front of the inn; in order that
nis example might serve as a warning to.all
who might in future attempt to defend him-
self from the insults and exactions of his
“majesty’s most faithful and devoted servants

m Gleamington.
Sinclair, although enraged at his ward,

beyond measure, was not quite prepared to
see him executed ingo summary a manner,
as that made mention of by the Tory leader,
and he hesitated sometime, before he re-
‘plied. “At length hé said:

“Tam far from justifying the course pur-
sued by the young man, and am certain that
he deserves a severe punishment for his
conduct last evening, as well as for his
‘reatment of my own person to-day, yet I

am not prepared to say, that he should be.

sunmarily executed, for doing acts which

niay have been perpetrated mm selj-defenca

I will-at least know the particulars of the

whole affair before I form a conclusicn.”

“ You do not, appear to be desirous that
he should receive any punishment ;” replied
the Tory, angrily, disappointed at thé hesi-
tating. manner ),of ,Sinclair; ‘you do: net
mention where he can be found!”

“ Neither do J know, yet Iam certain that
he cannot be farjaway, as he left that roon
To

shosw you that, lam not interested: in his es-

a few moments|sbefore your arrival.

cape, [pledge my honor togive an hundred
pounds to the individual or individuals who
will bring himalive tomy presence.’ In
the!mean time I assure you that he is not
beneath my roof, as he had been informed
of your coming, and had lucked me in tha’
room, or. order that I) should not by any
means prevent his escape. Send your men _
at once in pursuit,”

_ The Tory returned immediately to his
command, who were. impatiently awaiting,
his arrival, and after, explaining the reason
for his long tarry, he announced to them,
the offer made by Sinclair, for the appre-
hension of the fugitive. The band instant-
ly separated with loud yells, and.in a mo-
ment had surrounded the mansicn, and wens
busy in endeavoring to strike his trail. After
a fruitless search of nearly half an hour,
they agreed to seperate into four distinc}
bodies, and to traverse at one. time the four
distinct points of the cempass. In this man-
ner they felt sure that the crippled youth
could not escape, and thus would both the

reward and the victim be secured.
Immediately after their departure, Sin-

clair, after making a few hasty preparations,
left ‘the house, and ‘hastened toward the
“ Mounted Monarch.” He was received
with nine cheers by the sneaking conspira-
tors, and after a few moments, spent in in
terchanging congratulations, he drew Fris*

 
 

 

40:

bee,asiue, and asked for the, particulars of
the last night's conflict. With this request

Frisbee complied, and was» ‘listened. toby”

ais comrade. without interruption, until: he
mentioned, the-interference ofthe stranger,
when: Sinclair laid his hand upea: his’ arm
with a violence, at once:painful: and start-
ting, and asked

“What kind of a man‘was this stranger ?
Describe hi to mein a particularmanner.”

Frisbee was surprised. at the “vehemence
ef Sinclair's manner, and: also’ at the-agita-
tion, that the latter could: notdisguise, ne-
vertheless he proceeded to) describe Ed-
ward Vernon, as near as his hasty observa-
tions of the individual in question. would
permit him to do.
Ah!
Frisbee, had you only have ‘seeured the

“Tt was he; I am sure it'wag hint!

person of that rebel,.not only your: fortune,
buta sufficiency of wordly distinction would
have been secured at once. 1 would not
exchange the possession of his bedy, eitner
dead or alive, for the most brilliant peerage
in the mother land!”

“ Humph !”

exclaimed Frisbee, with a
jook of chagrin, at having ‘lost so rich a
prize. “ None of us knew him, or even mis-
trusted that: his person was of such value,
else, I could assure you, he would not have
escaped so easily. We might have rallied
more of our friends, and captured the whole
crew of the rebels.” .

“ And a pity it is that you didnot. Itis
high time that we in Gleamington began to
show ou loyalty by our acts, rather than by
eur words, if we wish to suare in: any? of the
spoils, that will undoubtedly be. distributed
That
termination is not far distant, as every, ane

at the termination of this, rebellion,

yan most plainly see!”
Fusbee assented,.o these conclusions, and
ey; returned to the inn, to mingle with the

THE SCOUTFOF

crowd!’ Messenyers had returiied froin va

‘rious portions: of the village, and announced ‘

that all the places of business occupied "by
the Wkips were closed, ‘and’ that’ fone of that

faction could ‘be seen in thie streets, or about”

their preihises. It was votéd, howevér, that
an attack’ upon them, should’ be deferred
until intelligence hadbeen received from
that part’ of the band, in-pursuit of Augustus

Fitzgerald.

As we have before said, the Tories in
pursuit of the youth, separated at Sinclair’s
residence, into four companies, each squad
The reader

will also remember that the young man

pursuing a different direction.

was stiff and sore from his previous con-

ict; and he found it utterly unpossible
‘to make great headway, after he crossed
the creek, and commenced the ascent of the
‘hill-side.
rugged sides of the acclivity without scaroe-

He had often before, scaled the

ly a feeling of fatigue, but now both the
body and the mind were deseased, and the
perspiration odzed from every pore. Sharp
pzins shot theough his trembling frame, and
more than once, he was on the point of
throwing himself upon the earth, and mak-
ing nd further exertions to éscape his pur

suers.

He heard the shout uttered by the blood
thirsty band, when they started from the
mansion, aud the thought, that perchance
he was discovered, added a momentary im-
petus to his exertions, and he pressed up the
Weak,

and almost exhausted, he at lenyth reached

mountain-side, like a hunted deer.

the,top,,and threw, himself upon a log, de-
termined to, load his pistols, select as good
a position as he could find, an2 sell his life
as dearly, as possible, should any of his ad-
yersaries discover the place of his retreat,
He accordingly. prepared his , weapons, but
a few; moments of reflection, brought back
 

THE SILVER POND.

boshisyouthful «bt osom,»:the:léverof ilife;:m
full force, and he cast around him for»
vlace.of concealment, wel. ‘knowing, that! it
would be impossible to eseape by:an!imme+
diate and protracted flighti
ed at length. a curious; cavity, inca ledge of
rovks, across, the, mountain some! twomiles
er more, which he,,had, often»paused:to ‘exs
amine, and admire as.a-placeroficonceals
ment, when engaged in, pursuibbofyamey
Thither, he resolved ‘to go,,and thither ‘he
accordingly bent his footsteps.

He' found ' that'his locotpotion improved
greatly, upon’ the level g7jund, and Hope
once inoreaniinated his bosom.” He pressed
forward..with’all the: speed he could ‘com:
mand, and soon reached’ the desired’ Castle

of refige.”. | He” earefully ‘erawled into! the

cavity, and found: it of sufficient dépth? td!

entirely conceal his personfroifi view! “He
resolved to remain in quiet until night-fall,
when he determined to emerge, and make
the best of his way to Warland, in hopes ta
find Edward Vernon, and be governed by
his advice, in regard to his future conduct.
Such confidence had he in his place of con-
cealment, that, fatigued and weak from his
wounds, and his exertions, he soen fel} into

& profound and refreshing slumber.

The party in pursuit, that took an eastern
cirection from Sinclair’s mansion, found the
marks of the fugitive’s footprints, in the soft
earth, upon the banks of the little creek, and
confident that he fled up the hill, they fol-
rowed on with all speed, extending their
ine some some eighty rods or ‘more, in order
0 scan every bush and brake that might
offer concealment to the view. _ Thanks,
however, to the sagacity of Rachel Morris,
tne young man had more than an hour the
start, and ere the sanguine Tories had as-
cended the mountain-side half way, he was

snugly ensconced in his little cavern.

He temembers'

DS)

‘Whenat last'the marauders reached thé
sumiit of the hill. they halted to tate breathy
and‘also'to: eonsult)! as to the course to ‘be!
pursued. °(A ‘igh pole, to which! ‘was ap-
pended a strip of white cotton cloth; was at
length stuckofast! in ‘the grownd;-and was te
serve’ asa rendezvous, and wlowereto sep:
arate, and scour «the! woods’ in ‘cttereny dix
rections;: If him ‘they: hunte:. had ‘pushed
to-Warland; the party who had! gone om the
northern» route; would >certainly” overtake:
himyand:it he were concealed in the woods
about, the planjthey had adopted, could: not
fail :to|brig him to light.

Signals” were agreed’ upon in case he
should be found, and the pursuers separated
in different ditections, each man confident
that his superior sagacity would secure the
hundred pounds offered for the apprehension
of the luckless youth.

With a throbbing heart, and a sensation
of faintness, Rachel Morris witnessed the
departure of the ruffans, who were so keen-
ly bent upon the blood of the being, that

She had
heard the brutu! offer of her uncle, to the

upon earth, she most cared for

maa who would secure him, and although
she had noticed his hesitation, when his ex-
ecution was spoken of, yet she could not but
regard the proffered bounty, as blood money
and she felt a loathing for her uncle, that
all her previous knowledge of his brutality,

She

had not produced. kn2w if her lover
were captured, that Sinclair’s influence
could not save him from the vengeance of
his enemies, even it he should be disposed

to exert it in his favor.

Day waned, and the mght approached,
The time. of the agiteted girl, was divided
between attendance upon her aunt, who: was
unable to leave her bed, in consequence of

her husband’s cowardly attack, and in gax

 
 

  

a2

ing from the rear piazza of the mansion’ in

 

the direction pursued by Fitzgerald in the
meming. Sinclair had not returned from
tha. “Mounted Monarch,” ‘and the thired
man whom she had privately despatched to
the village in quest of tidings concerning
the fugitive, had returned without bringing
any satisfactory report of the matter.

She felt, of a truth, that her enervating
and sickening uncertainty, and her harrow-
ing. anticipations, were worse to endure,
than a knowledge of the result, let that
knowledge be even ofthe most painful des-
scription, When the darkness settled ‘down
upon the valley, completely shutting out the
view ofthe surrounding hills, and her lover’s
fate wag yet involved in an obscurity asim-
penetrable as ever, he retired to her little
chamber, and threw herself upon the bed to
weep in solitude over the sudden aecumu-

THE SCOUT OF

lation’ of misfortunes: that had ovetaxer
her.

Midnight found her still weeping, but #
scream, borne faintly to her’éars from the
direction’ of the village, ‘atid a Jurid lighi
that lit up heriapartment) making the mim
test object plainly visible, ‘aroused’ her, and
she threw up'aisash, to discover the mean
She
pushed-aside the thick vines that obstructed

ing of sights and’ sounds so ‘unitisual.

her, vision, and ‘ag she did so, the report of
a volley of fire arms was distinctly heard in
the neighborhood of the,-ina, The, sky.ia
that direction was ruddy ,,from reflected
flames, and screams, as if from wemen in

She

drew downgher. window, threw: herself.again

distress could be readily distinguished.

upon the bed, entirely concealing her face
in the folcs of the counterpane, de ifito ever
out the he rid nowen.

 
¢

THE SILVER POND 2

CHAPTER’ VII,

The co'lection of ‘Tories around the inn,
wereased from hour to hour, throughout the
day. as the news of the fignt upon the pre-
vious evening, spread wider and wider.
Long ere the nightfall, over two hundred
end fifty had assembled, and gangs were ar-
riving continually. Some were armed with
rifles, some with muskets, some with swords,
and some, when nothing better could be
procured, carried pitchforks and large knives,
Under the recommendation of Sinelair,
Frisbee had been chosen to command the
partisans, because he held a commission
from the king, although the commission was
void, and of a civ:] capacity. It was hinted
that Sinclair, who was reputed to be a rela-
tive of the renowned General Gage, would
be the man better adapted than any other,
to command the enterprise now on foot, but
ae déclined, alleging as an excuse, his en-
ire ignorance of military matters, and the
fact that he was comparatively a stranger
amungst them. Frisbee consented to serve
and was hailed as the commander.

As the time wore on, many in the crowd
became impatient at the delay of the party
whe had been despatched. Fears were en-
tertained oy Frisbee, and his immediate ad-
visers, that the young man might escape,
and actuated by a desire to avenge his in-
furies, might essay to gather a reinforce-
ment of Green Mountain Boys, and himself
become the pursuer. Near sunset two of
the pursuing squads returned, and declared

the*fruitlessness of the sdarch. ['rom the
report which had been brought in py Sim
clair, it’ became niglily probable that the
youth had taken ‘to the hills east of the set.
tiement; and ‘as the party that had taken
that ‘direction yet remained absent, faint
hopes ‘were entertained, that they had struck
his trail, and he would yet be taken
Just'atidarks the? party that Hak followed
the‘direction of ‘the creek to the south, re
turned, and with a mortified air, reported
that they too, had been unsuccessful in the
search. The mob now became clamorous
for an attack upon the Whigs, and absolute-
ly refused to delay any longer, threatening

to march without leaders, in case Fris

bee and his assistants refused to assist

them. A compromise was finally effected,
the ' officers agreeing to comply with the
wishes of the privates, provided the re
maining squad, did not return, in the space
of two hours,

The Whigs, during this long and anx
ious day, had not been idle. The womeg
and children, had been secretly, and occa-
sionally, removed to the edge of the forest,
beyond the creek, and a quantity of provi
sion also, had been conveyed thither. Be
fore night, all the women and children, had
been thus removed, in so covert a manner,
as not to attract the attention of the Tories,
the centre of whose influence appeared to
be, the inn of Gersham Morse, or the liquor

it contained. The men returned, determin —

>

 
 

 

ua’
edto defena their homes and hearths to the
last, although their adversaries out-number-
ed them, thirty to one. They, however,
teoked confidently for a reinforcement from
Warland, and when the darkness eame, and
the expected assistance had not ar ived, they
were utterly at a .oss toexplam tne reason
ofthe delay.

As it was utterly impossible to divide their
little force, with any degree of safety, the
Whigs assembled in a body; at a workshop
belonging to one cf their number, and elect-
ed a leader, and essistants to serve: under
him., Each man was served with an abun-
dant supply. of ammunition, and when their
arms were examined, by far the greater part
proved to be rifles, that weapon so destruc-
tive, in the bawds of those. experienced: in

its use. Their leader was a man of the
most indomitable courage and. determina-
tion, and any one who could have seen the

little band of determined spirits, would have
been assured that deaths and, ghastly
wounds would not be confined to their ranks
alone.

During the two hours granted to the Tory
offivers by their hot blooded soldiery,. for the
return of the last body ot the rangers, they
returned, but like their comrades, with fa-
tigued ‘bodies, and empty hands. All their
search had proved unavailing, forafter leav-
ing the creek, not a trace of Fitzgerald had
They had hunted the
woods and crags in every direction, and

they discovered.

weariness had compelled them to desist and
return to their quarters,

Refreshments .were immediately ordered
tor the jaded men, and the preparations for
the contemplated attack, were renewed with
great. ardor, Torches were attached to long
poles, for the >urpose, as was avowed, of
“burning out the vermin,” in case they
should not feel inclined to give them battle.
im the op en field. Ladders were also pro-

THE SCOUT OF

eured, and each man’s weapon was exami
ed, with an eye to its efficiency. Ammvuni-
tion was distributed by Sinclair and Frisbee,
and the men exhorted tov courage and cool-
ness,

It was near midnight, when the cowardly
combination marched out to accomplish
their hellish designs. Ina silence as om
niovs as the grave, they moved toward that
part of the village, more particularly inhabit-
ed by the Whigs, intent upon murder and
rapine. Nota light twmkled from a win-
dow, not a sound, save the trampling ‘of
the marauders, broke the soiemn stillness of
the night. The dark and dimly-defined
buildings around, bore the marks of. deser-
tion, and one could have imagined that the
demon of the pestilence, had been walking ©
that way.

The Tories halted ata Whig dwelling,
Nat

even the bark of a house dog, greeted them,

opposite to which, they had arrived.

and two of their number, stepped from the
ranks, and ascending the little flight of
steps in front, knocked at the door, as if for
admission.

No voice bade them enter, and the rooms
within sent back a hollow echo to their sum-
mons. ‘The door was then tried, but it wee
locked, and stubbornly resisted all the at-
tempts of tlie robbers to force it. Imple-
ments, however, were soon furnished, the
lock was cut from the door, and the villams
stood beneath the roof of the tenantless
mansion. Combustiblés were piled in vari-
ous places upon the floors, the match was
applied, and the Tories emerging, resumed
their places in the ranks, and with their
comrades, anxiously awaited the progress of
the.confagration; nor were they kept long
in suspense,

In a short time’a bright light glittered in
the windows, the rays from which, danced
out upon the darkness, and the ‘erocious
THE SILVER POND. 045

features of the scow ing Tories, lighting up
the murderous scene, and bringing ont the
surrounding objects in bold: relief. | Vcl-
umes of smoke rolled out: of: the! apetures,
between the logs; and presently oozed
through te.joints:and crevices. of the roof.

Anon @ sharp fork of flame darted. up. the

yrude chimney, and»wreathed itself, into,an

hundred fantastic shapes, and in a few mo-
ments afterward, a, dozen lurid spires, could
be seen in various parts of the roof. _A loud
yell, ascended from the throats of the sur-
rounding demons, and they fairly, danced

with delight, as the work of destruction

_progressed. In .a short space the whole

building was in fiames, the materials of
which it was composed, being, dry and_re-
sinous, and ripe. for the raging element.

Without waiting for the entire destruction

. ofthe first dwelling, the robbers moved on

toward the next doomed tenement. This

was tried in precisely the same manner as

the other, with the same results, and, as a

matter, of course, it shared the same fate. It
was a much larger edifice, and the logs of
which it was composed were more ponder-
ous, It made a far greater light, and caus-
ed far greater exultation among .the incen-
diaries, than did its fellow, yet one circuin-
stance, was now observed, that cast over the
minds of many of the ruffians,a shade of
gloom.

Through the whole of the burning scene,
not a Whig had been seen. Neither wo-

man nor child, had appeared at all, and this:

absence at such a time, caused many to fear
an ambuscade, or the working of some silent
and horrible plot, that should burst upon
them like an earthquake, at a time when it
was least expected.

Some of the more hardy and recklesy of
the gang, stoutly maintained that the Whigs,

foresecing the vengeance that awaited them,
had retreated from the settlement, with'their

families, and such . of? their effects aa ¢they
could most readily carry, but others: diabe-
lieved this assertion, and quiteas. stoutly
maintaining the “point, that ‘the Whigs
would not'so tamely consign their property
to the hands ‘of their most. bitter enemies
However, the work of destruction progress-
ed, andthe mob moved'on to) the next buii
ding,‘against' which the Tory:anathema had
been fulminated.

This building-was'the shop, in which the
band. of Whig patriots lay concealed, burn-
ing. with wrath, at the wanton destruction
of their homes, endéared to them by a:thou-
sand dear, and: inexp.icable ties. .To all
outward appearance, however, it) was) aa
tenantless as the others. Not a sound
could be heard within, neither did a dight
glimmer from any part of it. To all appear-
ance, it-had been regularly closed. for: the
night, after the business of the day had been
concluded.

Again the torch-bearers ascended the
steps, and repeated the ceremony of knock
ing. No answer greeted their: summons,
andvas usual the door was-tried. It was. ge-
eurely locked, andthe instruments being
again produced, the Tories set about, re-
moving the lock, as they had-done with:the
other ‘tenements... Their comrades in’ the
ranks,:had:seated. themselves by the, road-
side, or where squatted in, groups against
the fences, awaiting the appearance of the
flames, and little dream ng that so manyjot
them, were standing «1pon the brik of

eternity.
The Jock .was at length cut loose from

the door, .and the ,incendiaries entered.

They passed, through « narrow hall, and:ea-
tered aidoor on the right, before attempting
to strike alight, when they were seizediby
powerful arms, and knives were sheathed
in their hearts, before they could alarm then
comrades, or even make one struggle in

 
 

 

ae \
show own defence, . Their 20dies were
irngged to one corner of the : 20m, that they
might not encumber the floor, when the
strife should commence, and in stern si-
lence, the Whigs awaited the next scene in
the drama that had so bloodily opened.

For near halfan hour, the Tories outside,
awaited the egress of their comrades, with-
out exhibiting any signs of impatience ; yet
they lingered stil. No.curling smoke, or
twisting flame, announced the compietion
of their work, but everything in’ the direc-
tion of the edifice they had entered, was as
silent and gloomy as a church-yard at mid-
night. Murmurs of impatience at length
broke out. What could occcasion this pro-
longed and useless tarry? If anything had
occurred to frustrate their enterprise tempo-
rarily, why did they not return for fresh ma-
terial or more help, and then comp'ete their
undertaking ? ;

Curiosity and anxiety next vook posses-
sion of their hearts, and it was determined
by Frisbee that two should leave the ranks,
and go in pursuit of their tardy comrades.
Flarabeaux we lighted and piaced:in their
hands, and they entered: the gaping door,
yet not without an ill-detined sense of fear,
for guilt engenders melancholy and super-
stition, As they entered the hall, the light
from their torches ceased to shine.outside
the door, and the groups without awaited in
almost breathless expectation, the result of
their discoveries.

‘The fate that befe'l their comrades, befell
the last adveuturers. With the same adroit-
ness, and almost stpernatiiral silence. the
knives that were yet dripping with the
dlood of their comrades in arms, entered
their own hearts, and like’ the first, they
gizided their bieaths, with scarcely. a per-
ceptible groan.
heavily away, yet no marks of conflagra-

Againthe moments'rolled

‘ ‘ aie ia
tion, or "form of returning incendiary could

THE SCOUT! OF

be seen’ in the direction of the silent: shop.

A\most imperceptibly, a feeling of terrox
took possession of the breasts of the cowards
assembled without. They huddled togethe.
like sheep expecting an attack from the
wolves, and started involuntarily, at the tall,
flickering shadows, cast across the street,
by the expiring blaze of their previous

fires. -

Frisbee, himself, was sorely perplexed’ at
this singular and unaccountabie affair. He
determined after much conflicting arguinent
with his own mind, to send ina file of a
dozen men, but when he mentioned his in-
tention to the wnilisciplined rabble, every
one swore that ‘the building should decay
with age. before they wou'd enter its ac
cursed portals, Frisbee remonstrated, but it
was in vain. Not aman could be indueed
either by threats or persuasion to enter the
building, and it became evident, that some
plan must be adopted. :

A council was called, and it was deter
mined that the shatters which had hitherto
remained closed, should be first torn dowr,
and then a view of the interior of the mys-
terious tenement, could be had from the out-
side. This plan pleased the privates, and
jong hooks, and axes with lengthened han-
dies, were hastily procured. The shutter@
were heavy and well secured, and the pro-
ject was easier conceived than executed
By dint of great exertion, however, the de
design was at length accomplished, and the
bare windows greeted the vision of the gap-
ing Tories. A loud cheer attested their
joy at the accomplishment of their object.

No noise or other sound of life came, as

yet from the interior. The same air of gloom,
and the same mystery hung about the shop,
now that the shutters were removed, as he-
fore that undertaking was accomplished, and

é
none as yet had ventured to attempta glance

 
THE SILVER: POND. . 4

be, ond the cold and g'istening’squares: of:
glass
The Tories were formed into lineand
exch mam ordered to bein teadiness for! in-
stant action: A‘ file) of "some itwenty: or
thirty were then drawn up, by numbers, and
after being ranged with order, were march-
ed directly up'to the windows, and ordered
to demolish them with, their. fire-arms. . A
Joud crash, which was once. or, twice re-
peated, announced the success with which
the order had been. obeyed, and, the ad-
_¥anced line wheeled to return to, their com-
rades, in order to furnish a chance of firing
othe buildings’ fromthe. outside, when. of a
Sudden, a long sheet of thin blue flame is-
sued from the window. places, followed:

quicker than thought by the sharp,crack of.
a dozen rifles.

A ;mingled. yell of; surprise and. terror
burst. from the Tories, ,several of whom
leaped in the air with extended arms, and
fell to rise no more, The remaider re-
treated for a quite a distance in the utmost
ee sion, but were at length brought to a
‘halt by the persevering oR ete of their
officers.

The great mystery was now explained.
“The fate of their missing companions was‘
no longer in doubt. _ The Whigs here made
a stand, and would undoubtedly defend
their position with the most obstinate brave-

Ty. Many who had, joined the marauding
expedition as much from an inherent love of
mischief and frolic, as from any desire’ of
revenge, or love for the king, and who had
not counted won serious resistance to their
wneasures, advised an instant return to the
in, and the disbanding of the expedition
wntil some more favorable opportunity.

veg This proposition was indignantly scouted
stb’ the great majority, and more especi-
uly by those whose persons yet smarted

from the flagei.ation of the pisvious night
Avplan of attack was‘ determined: on} but
how to carry it into execution 4vas the'most
perplexing of all their difficulties. The
Whigs were securely protected fromthe
aims of their enemies so long! as the skop
remained standing. ‘To five’ their ‘citadel
was out of the question, for now that they
discovered themselves, they would undoubt-
edly-bring down every enemy who became

exposed to the range of their muskets:

The building must be carzied by storm
amaneuvre always calculated to startle
the nerves cf the most hardened “regulars,”
and one that well might territy a band of
raw and uniis sciplined levies. The an-
nowncement that the attempt would be
made, was received by the Tories with a
silence and solemnity, anything but gratify
ing to their leaders. After much ado, how-
ever, the assailing column was formed, and
with “measured tread and slow,” they
marched in the direction of the shop.

After their unexpected and fatal volley,
the Whigs sank back to their place of com:
cealment, and again their fortress was xs
still as death. Perfectly calm, they awas
ed the movements of their enemies, dows
mined to resist whilst alope remained, ma
when they shou'd be overpowered, ta ofect
their retreat by a way, which with com-
mendable foresight, they had provided,—
With eager expectation, they saw the ad
vance of the assailants. They saw them
file off in front of the shop, and steadily ap
proach their covert, when, upon a given sig
na! from their leader, they manned the em-
brasures made by the destruction of the
windows, and poured upon them a well-di-
rected and destructive volley which coused
them to waver for a moment, put they
pressed on and would have gained an en

trance at the ow inging door, had*not a ~»

 

 
 

48

served. platcon followed, up the. first) dis-

» charge by one more deadly. and) destructive
» ptill, .
Their best’men were swept down by:this
volley, like chaff before. the wind, vand
breaking in disorder, the afirighted Tories
again leftthe gallant patriots the masters
, of the field. Frisbee swore and: raved: at
these repeated exhibitions: of cowardice,
but his threats and exhortations’ were! en-
tirely disregarded, and his valiant recruits
hept to their legs until they were beyond
the range of their enemies? rifles.

Frisbee saw at this failure, that all at-
tempts to storm the shop would result in
his discomfiture, and a new plan having oc-
euired to his mind, he resolved to put it
in execution. Immediately adjoining the
shop in which the Whigs had taken _posi-
tion, was a mansion of hunble pretensions;
but it was the property of a Tory, F ris.
bee’s determination to bring his enemies
into an open field, where a sure and_easy
victory awaited him, was so great, that he

determined to fire this building, in hopes»

that the wind, which was somewhat pro-
pitous; would waft the flames to the ‘whig
fortress, nnd thus compel its inmates te

place themselves within the reach of his,

musketry.

A party wes accordingly despatched to
accomplish this object. They weré pre-
pared with the necessary implements tor
their mission, end pursued a long and cir-
cuitous route, in order to avoid the Whig
rifles. About half an hours absence
they returned and announced to their com-
mander that they had succeeded in their
andertaking.

Soon dense volumes of smoke rolled up
from the humble dwelling, and it was quick-
ty followed by masses of flame, and the
snapping and crackling of burning timbers.
Anxious to witness the success of the ex-

THE: SCOUT OF

ction -of :the;oflames.

periment; a5 well as to: meet the’ Wliga'on
their first sally into the street, the “T'onea

bogradually) and slowly. moved in'the' ‘direc-

A. clamorous. cheer

arosevwhenit-was discovered that theinight

breeze took the wavy flames full on to the
roof! 6f the snop; and’ they soon had the
pleasuré’ of ‘seeing its’ timbers ignite, ane
give unequivocal token. that the experiment
would be’ successful. © Again’ the priming
of ‘theix gins’ were looked to, and’ other
preparations made’ for avenging the losses
they “had” sustained upon the doomed {a-
mates 6fthe burning shop. All eyes were
eagerly’ bent upon’ the ‘swinging ‘door, in
the monentary expectation of witnessing
the egress of their victims. The flames,
meanwhile, progressed with ‘great rapidity,
aud even had reached the lower story, but
not an enemy‘had been seen, and all within
the building’ was wrapped in a mystery‘ as
impenetrable'‘as ever.

The Tories were completely confound-
ed. The burning roofs and floors had fall-
en in, and nothing was standing but the
blazing walls, and stili no sound, no shriek
proclaimed that human beings were within
tite flame, or had imade their escape there-
‘from. In silence unbroken, they had Wit.
nessed the complete destruction cf the ed»
fice, and then, disappointed in their ver

“geance and ‘filled ‘with superstitious fore-

bodings, ‘they ‘turned’ siinulianeously, ‘and
once more sought the premises of the
Mounted ‘Monarch, swearing that Whiga
and devils were beings of the same genus,
and that the powers of Pandemenium as-
sisted them in their dealings with the in
habitants cf earth.

Immediately after the repulse of the
storming party, the Whigs discovered that
it was the intention of the enemy to burn
them out, and after the Tories withdrew

 
 

THE SILVER POND. 49

beyond the reach of their arms, they: made
thew preparations’: to retreat to the position
~ccupied by their families, andj. if possible,
fect an escape to some more congenial re-
‘on. As had been previously hinted, the
means for their escape were in constant
readiness, and were easily embraced.

A large opening had been made during
the day, in the rear wall of the building,
which opened into a meadow, stretching

dm the village to the little streamlet _Im-

-diately across the creck, and running to

2 eastward, until it reached the broken
ands at the base of the hill, was a field of
{ndian corn, then at its full height, and in
‘ts fullest leaf. If the patriots could reach
ts shelter without being discovered, they
could pursue their journey without fear of
detection, even had the light of day been
sluning on their retreat. They justly con-
ceived from the fact, that none of their as-
sailants had made their appearance in the
zear of the shop, that the idea of their mak
mg an escape from that direction, had not
once occurred to their ‘enemies, and after
the Tory mansion had been fired, and all
eyes were intently watching for their ap
pearance through the front door, they with-
drew with the utmost caution and silence,

nd succeeded in gaining the» corn-feld

adiscovered:’ They svon after joined their
aioilies, and with the utmost’ celerity de-
parted in the direction of Warland, to seek
en asylum amongst their friends.

Sinclair and’ Gersham Morse, awaited the
mutival of the Tories at the little inn, and
great was the chagrin, when they ascer-
tained that the Whigs had eluded’ them,
after killing several of their number.
clair addressed the assembly in a caustic
tone. deriding them for having left the creps
and cattle of their foes unmolested, and
even permitting their own deaditovremain

Sin-

‘

upomthe field of act on, destitute: of the
Jast sad rites of humanity.

His speech aroused, some of the dorment*
erergies of the heterogeneous, mass, and
two parties departed again for the scene of
action; one to destroy the ‘crops of their
enemies and drive up their cattle, and: the
other to bring off the bodies of the wounded
andslain. Ina short time the scene around
became lighted with the flames of other
dwellings, and the tramping of cattle, and
the work of destruction could be heard on
all sides around,

Day broke upon the sickening scene, ere
the Tories had desisted from their works of
destruction. The Whig dwellings, and the
plantations were destroyed, and the cattle
and swine, after being separated into par-
cels, were divided aniongst the robbers, ae
the legitlmate spoils of an honorable and
praiseworthy warfare.’ Scarcely a vestige
of Whig property remained to be seen, and
the Tories boldly declared that as soon as
they received official notification of the ter
mination of the war, petitions for confisca
tion should be forwarded to the government,
and thus their enemies should forever be
debarred from 4 residence in the valley, and
from the enjoyments of the-farins that their
ownindustry had cleared andsabdued,

Nearly all of the following day was cou-
sumed in arranging for, and:performing the
funeral ceremonies for those who had: fallen
in battle, as well as: those who died from
the. wounds inflicted by: Augustus: Fitager-
ald: Much pompand mock solemnity dix
tingnished the occasion, the Tories affect
ing to regard their deceased friends in the
light of martyrs to the cause of royalty
The most ample provisions weremade. fou:
the support of the families: that had) beea
bereaved, and’ vol.eys were discharged.over
their graves,

 
 

 

50 © THE LCOUT OF

"The Whigs were not pursued, their‘ene-
mies feeling that it was safer to pillage and
destroy their property, during their absence,

that were swift.to/resent, injuries; and. eves
‘ready to defend theirrights, against odds the
most fearful. ices t

than.to venture'within the reach of arma, -

CHAP™ER VIL

We left Augustus Fitzgerald sleeping
soundly’ after! the fatigues of his-flight, .in
the cleft rock»on the mountain! top... From
this ‘slumber he did: not arouse, until, the
darkness had settled upon both hill and,.val-
ley. Rubbing his-drowsy:eyes, and stretch-
mg his’ stiffened limbs, he soon after erawl-
‘a frony his hiding place; and listened intent-
iy, in order to detect his» pursuers, .if any
such’ were on the hill in search of him. No
noises greeted: his ear, ochowever) Save thie
plaintive cryoof the whip-poor-will, and the
eévacidus’ prattling of the katy-did.

Adjusting liis :pistois, that they might, be |

convenient t> his grasp he left-his snug re-

treat, and: wita chu utmost circumspectien,
commenced descending the hill... Once or
twice he darted behin? thé trees, confident
that he*heard ithe: footsteps of an enemy, but
im every instancé his:feana-were idle, and he
reached thevvalley: in safety. He seated
himéelf in .a,cluster: of willows on the, banks
of the little: creek, in. order to! discover, i
any» parties were patro.ing, the vale, but.a
distantishout from the village, or,the lowing
of the flecks. near him; jwas. all,the. sound
that/he could detectyand,, /ke resolved to,.di-
rect-his sfeps towasds) Warland.

Keeping as much 2s: possible within, the
shadcw of the hills, he!) pursned. his), sav

 
 

 

 

; youth.

THE SILVER. POND 51

slowly ‘and with. great),caution,); until he
réachdJ the gorge at the north, when feel-
ing’ himselt éomparatively-jsate, he seated
himself by:the road-side, to, rest his: limbs,
Biven ‘here hie conild;oecasionally hear the
shouts: of -his-eriemies-at Gleamington, and
not feeling particularly, safe ;in such. prox-
imity, he soon resumed his joutney,,and
pressed on toward his destination with, in-
creased ardor.

It was past midnight, when, almost ex-
nausted, he reached the little village of
Warland. Its inhabitants had retired to
rest, and every house that he passed was
shrouded in silence most profound. Re-
nemhetinde the direction of Vernon, he
searched attentively in the darkness for the
sigu of the tavern, to whose landlord he had
been directed to make applicatiou, in case
he wished to confer with his friend, and at
length he had the satisfaction of discover-
ing - it, swinging in the air, in front of a
snug and tidy looking log dwelling,

Several loud raps upon the door, aroused
some-one within, and in a short time, Fitz-
gerald heard a rough voice at the door, ex-
claiming—

“ Who's outside ?”

“ A friend who wants lodgings!” replied
Augustus. :

“Rather late for an application
replied the yojce;, “ but, where have yon
come from ?” :

“From Gloaningtany, answered the

lo Ey
/

“The Cavill you did! |'Well; Tshave
merely t4 say,” drawled thé’ Voice; “that

you Glos min’toh'cliaps ‘aint in a very good
smel] th ya away, and] don’t think I can ae-

cummodate ye: “Howsomdever you can tell
me your name of ‘you please; theys some
thepa in that quaiter thats got besom ; may

“be your diié'or’em !”
“My name is Fitzgeruld ” exclaimed.

the youth, impatiently ; “and I eome here
by the directions of Edward Vernon! iN

“Oh! ah! but you couldn’t have said ga
before I s’pose;” replied the voice; whilst
at the same time the rattling, of bars and
the undoing of bolts was, plainly audible,
‘Ef you’ d only a mentioned the scout's
nanw, you had a been in an hour ago! Coma
along,”

The door opened, and Fitzgerald entered
A light was soon obtained, and by its aid,
the worthy publican, who was the renowned
Tommy Williams, in his own proper per-
son, surveyed the guest from head to foot,
in the most scrutinising manner, after per-
forming which, to his own satisfaction, at
least, he said:

“Well, the scout said you was ra’al grit,
and from the pearance of. your, face and
things, L_ guess, you are. So you licked
’emeh? The scout said they had to take
it about the hardest”

Fitzgerald could not entirely comprehend
this address ; not knowing who was meant
by.the “Scout,” but judging from the tenor
of the discourse, that it had reference to
the, Gleamington .affray, he replied at ran:
dom,

“ Why, yes; we had a little affair there,

tobe sure. |Some. hard -blows .were ex.

changed, and some little blood spilled; but

asuch things are not of unfrequent occur

rence in these days.”

“ No, Sir! ‘and they wont be either, until
these’ Torieg are,,entirely, extarminated.
But here I stend like a fool, when | might
know you was both hungry.and thirsty.”

So saying, thé. worthy Mr. Williams put

down his lamp, secured. the bar-room deer
and then produced a bottle.and glass, bi-

:ding Fitzgerald to help, himself. He then
departed to his kitchen, but returned in a

i . .
few, minutes, bearing several dishes of eeld

 

a

a
Pike re tere ree aecesetit eae

 

A i

&

meats and bread, which h? placed upon e
rough pine tabie in the bar-room,

Fitzgerald needed no invitation to par-
take of che fare set before him, for he had
net tasted food or drink since his breakfast
andhis exercise had sharpened his appetite
most keenly. He therefore seated himself
at the little table. and was soon deeply en-
gaged in the pleasant duty of satisfying his
hunger. During the progress of the meal,
Tommy Williams, who was seated near him,
drew froin him by his’ adroit questions, a
whole history of Gleamington, since the
occurrence of the fight, embracing the de-
scription of the young man’s flight, and safe
arrival at Warland. After promising to put
his young friend in the way of finding Ver-
non on the following morning, he conducted
him to bed, and left him to the comforts of
aclean couch, and a system disposed to
slumber.

The dawn had just broken, when Fitz-
gerald was aroused by an unustral and pro-
tracted noise in the bar-room below; and
the conimingling of many voices in the street.
Sufficiently rested, and curious to ascertain
the cause of the uproar, he’ sprang from his
bed, and hastily putting on his garments,
descended the stait-way and entered the bar-
room. Here he beheld several women ‘and
vhildren seated about, whilst the stoop was
erowded with the forms of mens armed, as
if for battle. He passed through the room.

nd gained the street, where for the firs ttime
he discovered that the armed men where iis
fellow Whigs from Gleamington, They
had just y-ached’ the litte settlement, and
‘were detailing to their politicalfrienis: the
_ proceedings of the last night.

Yith a saddened heart, Fitzgerald hsten-
ed to the recital of the destruction of their
hence and crops; but the feeling was in’a

menevre dispelled. when he heard of the

 

THE SCOUT OF!

battle of the worxshop, n which his coxa
rades had made’a stand. From: the leade:
of the melee in front of the “Mounted Mon:
arch,” he learned that the two men wound-
ed by him had died, and that his execution
word have ‘been certain,»had any. of the
parties _n pursuit been so fortunate as to-vhave,
captured him,

The fugitives were soon separated amongst
the different Whig fami.ies, composing the
settlement of Warland, all determinations
as to their future course, beiag laid aside;
until the arrival of “The Scout of the Sil-
ver Pond ;” who had been sent for, and
whose counsel and consent seemed abso
lutely necessary in the matter. Fitzgerald
returned to the bar-room, where he was
soon after joined by Tommy Williams
whose rubicund visage was dimpled with
smiles and inherent good nature, He waa
a short dumpy personage, apparently some-
what past fifty, yet retaining much of the
The
all important and supreme desire of his

fire and activity of early youth.

heart, was, the destruction of all Tories:
whoever they might be, or wherever they
might be found, and the ultimate success of
the Continental Congress. He wis’ noted
for his superior shrewdness and sagacity
and upon more than one occasion, haa
taken the field in person, to fight for the
principles he so cearly loved, and so loudly
professed.

“ Well, my young friend ;” said Tommy,
seating himself opposite. his guest; vou
look the better, for your rest last night, anc
the bruises on your face, |. think havea bet
ter “appearance than they wore iast evening
By: the tel! of your: Gleaming.on, Whigs,
you were not disposed ‘to -fight Jue battle
with the fists alone, night. before last, They
say you made holes’ +n, a.couple., of the
devils !”

 
 

 

THE SILVER: POND 53

“Yes nephea Fitagerald slightly col-
orig ; “felt. myself called upon. to, use
arms other than those. provided by mature,
but only when I was driven to it, in self-de-
fence.”

“Pshaw! you will get over this squeam-

ishtiess, about lettin’ the'day-light ‘into a

Tory, before this wur is oVer, ‘and ‘then
you'll say you killed "em “because it twas
yatit duty to the‘colonies.  /Always ‘remem=
ber that one Tories death is worth ‘six
Hessian’s !”

“Tn the matter of a regular battle, you
would be correct,” said Fitzgerald; “but
you must remember this was merely a
neighborhood broil ; something entirely dif-
ferent from a regular action! ‘Your rule
would hardly ‘apply inthis case.

“ Wouldn't eh >” queried Williams ; “well
rule or no rule, I’ma skunk if I wouldnt
act on the principle, What do you call the
fight of last nigut, if it was not a regular
battle? For my part I call it one of the
hardest kinds of a battle, and between you
and me, when the ‘Scout’ gets here, you'll
find it will be fought over agin

“Who is the ‘Scout’ that you so often
apesk of ?” asked Fitzged, earnestly.

“Well, now, 1 thought. you knew Ned
Vernon !”

*L.do to be sure, but I never knew him
as & scout.”

4, Well, Ned Vernon is known here-away,
and in all the Continental Army, as: the
“Seout-of the Silver Pond ;” cause he is
(he greateat scout in America, and because
he’s fot a cabin at the’ “Siver Pond”: up in
mountains here, that the devil couldn’t find,
if he locked with’'two pair of‘spectacles on
his nose.”

“Then T now understand who you mean,

sy the Scou: 1 used formerly to know

,

Vernon in Boston,» but, latteriy,. cirews,
stances have conspired to keep us apart.”

“Well, may be you’ know his :ompanies
too.” i

“Possibly 1 may ;” replied Fitzgerald,
“but Iwas not aware that he had a com
panion ; at least any especial one.”

“Well then, just let me tell you, young-

*

ster; said Williams, with a knowing shake
of the head; “ that he has got a companion,
and a special and’a particular one he is too.
He’s a regiment in himself, though 1 ’spect
he’s nothin’? now to what he used to be.
He's gettin’ somewhat old, but he’s desp’rate
yet.” 3 ‘

“Who is he 2” inquired Fitzgerald, in
terested by the description of the garrulous
Mr. Williams.

“Tt’sa hard matter to tell who he is. He
calls himself Sampson Combat, and the
boys generally call him ‘ Long-armed-
Sampson.” He’s a true Whig, though
he’s come from England since the begin
nin’ of the disturbance, and he’s a raging

terror on all Tories!”

Further parly was interrupted by a sum-
mons to -breakfast, which both Mr. Wil-
liams and Fitzgerald obeyed promptly —
The youth’s bruises were better than on the
previous day, and a good night’s repose
had gone far towards restoring him to usual
health; he therefore did ample justice to
the substantial meal prepared by Willlam’s
household, and repaired to the bar-room,
anxious for the expected visit of “'The
Scout of the Silver Pond.”

He was not compelled to wait his commg
for any great length of time, for while . ne

was inhaling the, fragrant: vapors from a_

pipe of tobacco, Edward. Vernon entered
the room, and with an exclamation of sur-
prisehe seized: him by the hand, with, the

 
 

5A -
earmest prasp of watm and heartfelt friend-
ehip.
“So,so. my gallant Whig; your predi-
lections are verified, and you have been

dzivenyfroii Egyp.to the land of promise!”

oSomeéthing! like it, L»bebieve; replied’ -

Fitzgerald; ane of-.our, principles; find, a
hot.clanate.in that direction; just about this
AO, ici

“© Well,
doubtedly experience sore, thunder, direct-

never, minds»... Phey », will, un-
ly that will have a tendency to.coolit. . One
extreme!,is, most, generally, followed by
another :, but; come, I want you, to give me
e history of things since you and parted.”

Fitzgerald) related,to, hiss indignant ¢am-
panien, the events that have, already been
laid before the reader, concealing only his
altercation with Sinclair, and the conduct
that provoked, it... After he had concluded
a-narrative of , his adventures, he repeated
the story told, by the fugitives that had ar-
sian since the onslayght of the Tories, to
all of which Vernon made no remark, but
after he had concluded, he paced the room
rapidly for a few moments, When he re-
eumed his set it, hie said:

“All these ‘Gears excite” our passions,
yet, notwithstanding that they call loudly
for immediate vengeance, they must he
borne with. patiently, at least for a while.
Other. matters, of far greater interest to
the cause we serve, demand all our exer-
tions at present. The time for satisfaction
in ‘this particular will arrive presently, and
I feel that our revenge will not be less
sweet because it has been somewhat de-
layed’? cynic 1

« Ror tay own part,” replied’ Fitzgerald,
*fam utterly ignorant’ of the movements
of the two great partiesin the land.
‘heen Duitposely kept in ignorance.’ but now
that’ {ie lending ‘strings are broken, and

Ihave

THE SCOUT OF

there is a “barrier*to my! return nome antl
the close’ vf" ‘the war, ifot forever, I trust
that I'shall’ become: somewhat » better in
formed’ with regard to 'publicmeasures,and.
public improvements.”

!” exclaimed

* Phat is.a'noble resolution!
Vernon. , Then, turning to, Williams, who

was engaged in his bar, he said —

“What. has. been, done, ‘Tommy, with
our. friends from,Gleamington,?, I presume
their wants have all been attended to?”

“I think there is no doubt ofethat,? re
“You do not think that
we have permitted them to suffer, I hope } ti
“ Let, :

themzemain here, until f haye time to,con-

plied Williams,

» “Of. course not,” replied Vernon,

fer with Stark, .which will be in a few days.
The army on,the .Hudson. has, called for
militia, and Stark is touring the country for
recruits. After our ‘conference, I can best
Such a

thing mig ht’ be, that a charge in‘the popu-

tell the. course for them to pursue.

lation of Gleamin en inight’be advantage-

ous to our cause.”

+» Williams assented to this wnpaatens: as
indeed he did to every proposition, made by
Vernon. Soon after the termination of the
conference, the Scout, to use the favorite
name of the landlord!  acééthpanied “by
Fitzgerald, visited’ thé fugitives’ from Tory
wrath, and repeated to them the arrange-
inents that” Had been made ‘in regard ‘to
them. After completing their’ task, they
rettitned to ‘the inn; preparatory 'to /paying a
visit'te the’ “cabin inthe mountains,”: aa
Tommy’ Williams “had, termed “the..rem
dence of the. Scout’ > Langvon

Warland wos, situated, as, we, have, before
written, some eight, miles from, Gleaming.
ton; ine'a noftherly, direction. ;, It, wag a
small settlement at the best, with a, popu-
jation chiefly, devoted, te agriculture, . at
least before the commencement of, the war

 

 
 

 

THE SILVER POND. 55

The. village, .if it; was, deserving. of: the ,
name, was situated-amid a cluster of high '

and. rugged hills,) interspersed: :here» and
there with small, but fruitfulvalleys, admi-
rably adapted to the purposes of the hus-
bandman. _When Vernon) iad «completed
his business, he took: his triemd: by the, arm,
and they started forthe cabin, where Fita-
gerald was to remain demicilated: with his
friend... Their’ toad, weund) round; for some
two .or three miles;over thé hills'and: across
he valleys, until at length'they came to the
ase of an-eminence: that frommits great
eight, and almost perpendicular sides, mer-
ed the appellation of a mountain. “Seek-
ng)a tangled and secluded footway, Ver-
non commenced ‘the! ascent,’ bidding ' his
friend to follow, andvassist his “limbs ‘by
clinging to the ‘stout. ‘vines and Bushes that
grewby the way-side. © A
The almost perpendicular ascent, ‘con+
anuedfor more than a mile, when the moun-
tain sloped away'to! the eastward, and the
elevation was more.‘gradual atid pleasing:
Here commenced an unbrokerrforest, as far
as the eye coull reach in’ either direction,
nought could be seen but! interminable
rows)of ‘tall cand stately forest’ tlees’ and
vines, loaded with wild flowers, piving forth
the sweetest odors! ist ot?
For some two ‘miles’ faither,' they” pur:
sued a smooth, narrow foot path through
ecenes of sylvan beauty.” At length,‘ the
distance, the hazy tops of another rangé! oy
hills could be distinctly seen, and Vérnani
seated Kimself on a logyand beckoned his
companion to his side. Fitagerald obeyed’
the signal and also seated: himself. 2:
«Do you see the rugged ‘sides of those
high hills to’ the east yonder, whose tops’
are shrouded by the clouds?” asked: the’
Scout, his eyesisparkling with delightasthey
scanned thé glorious view. ,

“Aye!” replied Fitzgerald

u 'Thoseare- the Green Mountains, of
which you have probably heard’ So frequent
mention. At some future time we’ may
stroll together ‘to their’ sumimits,’and ‘reve!
in the!views that our elevation’ will unfold
‘to. uss) but hark! A8 T live old Sampson is
about to delight us with a’ tthe.”

Even while he spoke, the full, clear' tones
of a key bugle, played ‘with most exquisité
taste and skill,echoed: through tne forest,
apparently emanating but afew rods from
them. The music lof that noblé instrument,
had always possessed peculiar’charms fot
Fitzgerald, buthe thought that he never had
heard so many, and such surprising beau-.
ties in its bewitching tones, as now held
him, as ifispell-boundy to the seat he oceu4
pied... The ‘tall old’ forestitrees, through
which the:morning breeze was sighing, the
neighboring echoes that repeated and mock+
éd the liquid sounds, the ‘fuged and unty#
tored: grandeur that greeted the ‘ize i
every direction s'all conspired to heighten
the effect of the music, and wher’ the last
strain died away in thé dim distance, the
tears were freely coursing down the young
man’s cneen.

His’ cottipanion was also sensibly affect-
ed. With bis face buriéd in his hands, he
sat as motionless ‘as ‘a: statue, whilst the
rusi¢ continued, and when it Ceased, a deep
diaiwn sigh escaped from his bosom, and he
asked, turning to’his comrade:

“ What external influence, Fitz, can affect
us like musie?) “What! can ‘dxcite in’ the
mind such‘an ineonyrious medley’ of sweet”
and bitter memories, at one and the samé
time ?” :

~ Fitzgerald was silent: for some’ tine, and
without replying’ to his companion’s inter

rogatories, he asked: v7 3
Where’ was the tiusician, Ned?”

 

 

ees

SS ee

 

 
6 THE SCOUT OF!

* Probably: before the: dvor of my cabin, “Ai scene*of ‘the most’ transcendant 'béanty
if cabin itcan becalled. | Did not Williams ‘was ‘before him. A ‘sheet of water some
tel you anything of Long-Atmed Samp- mile:or more ‘in‘diameter, stretched away
son ?” in front/of him, glittering in the bright sun-

“ Yes, but from. tle desenption that he light, dnd:showing ‘the white pebbles ‘at its
gave me ofthat personage, 1 should deem ‘bottom to la: great depth: Tts edge waa
him incapable of producing musicilike that?” fringed’ with'tall, wavy ‘pines, intermmgled

“Sampson is a genius;” remarked Ver- with willows: and /alders, ‘and: flocks ‘of
non, in a half-musing manner. It is haz ducks*and other waterfow! were sporting
ardous to judge men in such times ws:these upon its pellucid bosom. The waters weve
by their exterior. The ‘man!’ either 1s, or Clearas chrystal, and ever anon. the bright
shrewdly affects to be; am illiterate Engiish- ‘scales of its sporting mma’es could be seen
man, who was educatethfor a horse jockey, from the rock, ‘ghst’ning 19 the rays of light
but graduated a prize fighter. He pretends, like burnished silve:

that disgusted with:his, own) country; and (The formof: this ante) :soee. ot water

its. rulers, he sought'anasylum inthis He was nearly circtlar, with bola ou: no: pre
io familiar with men, and familiix with ¢ipitous banks, except-ata point neas!y op
books ; an accomplished matksmatiiand.the PSite the »rock on which Pitzgeraic was
best swordsmanl ever 'suw. Of shis musix seated. Here a ledge of perpendicuimr
cal talent, you have shad a:samplepdnd' can tock, some forty or fifty feet in height,
judge for yourself, You. will soon be. in+ abruptly rose from its bright waters. They
troduced to him in person, and thei b wii) terminated as abruptly as they rose, and)in
hear your opinion of him; after first giving all. directions, around them stretched the

 

 

you a chance to observe him.”

“ But where is yourcelebrated residence,
Ned ?” asked Fitzgerald,

“Your hearing hasbeen highly gratified
just now, and you shai presently have a;
feast for your vision, Do, you see the ‘ex-
tremity of that rock just yonder to the right,
the top and fropt part of which ig com-
pletely covered, by the weeping willow 2”

“T do,” replied ; Fitagerald, dis eye fol+
lowing the direction indicated. by. Vernon’s,
finger.

* Well, goto it, pulla aide the willow, and,

smooth, alluvial bottom.

“ This is, indeed a lovely scene !” repeat:
ed Fitzgerald to himself.
ly itis concealed from observation !”

“How wondroua-

“Aye! that it is!” repeated the. deep:
voice of Vernon, who had gained the side
of the enwrapt youth, without attraction
“Tt, is.the fairest sheet of water in all this
land,”

« And iscalled what?” asked itech ;
startled at the unexpected proximity of hie
friend. | A

The, Silver Pond!” answered Vernon:

sit down upon, the rock.on,the other side.of Theinhabitants of this region do not dignix

ni?

Fitzgerald hast the injunction: He
stood upon the rock, and thrusting. the. wil-
hows one sie with his arm, he. pushed his,
eody through the opening, and, seated him-
vedf ore farther extremity of the boulder.

fy it, with the name of lake. They are fear-
ful.of rousing the anger of old Champlain,
who, lays just beyond here,’ to the north
west...

“Any name will answer for a sheet of
water like this; responded Fitzgerald

 

 
 

rE SILVER POND. 57

“No matter what the name mightbe, itsown
transcendont beauties, would. win :its:way
to admiration !”

“Very true! answered Vernon. «Soon
efter I left Boston, I journeyed this way,
upon-a mission, and accidentally stumbled
apon the little Pond, at this'very rock upon
which you are sitting. After fulfilling my
orders, I returned here, cad established ‘a
residence, and here I have resided’ ‘ever
since.”

“ But where is your residence, [ see no
aigns|of any,” replied Fitagerald, looking
‘yp surptisedly at his comrade, “ Do-yon
inhabit) the trees, or live inva cave like Ro-

“\birison Crusoe ?”

“ Youshal] see!” replied his comrade, and
‘stepping from the rock a ‘few paces below
his comrade, he drew out from the long
seedy grass and willows, a bark ¢éanoe; so
small and fairy-like, that it seemed incapa-
ble of supporting the weight of its oars.
This tiny boat was drawn up to the side of
the ‘boulder, by alight chain, used for the
purpose of securing it; and Vernon step-
ping into it, invited his companion to do the
same. Fitzgerald hesitated, fearful that the
slender-craft could not sustain their com-
bined: weight, but his companion iassured
him, and he stepped aboard lightly, and
seated himself in the stern.

Vernon raised a pair of light and grace-
ul oars from the bottom, and fitting them
n their wards, gave one pull with his vig-
prous and sinewy arms, and they shot into
he lake, with the velocity of light.

‘Phe little boat made directly for the ledge
of rocks before mentioned, and in a few mo-
ments, shot round the promontory, and
Vernon léaped lightly to the shore, follow»
ed by Fitzgerald. As they were securmg
their little craft, a slight rustling was heard
amgng the bushes nea them, and Augustus

\

looking ap, saw that another individual shed
joined»them. As -soon.as, Vernon had ‘we-
cured the boat, he introduced his young
friend, tothe musician, »whose accomplish-
‘ments had so delighted them, a short time
‘previous.

Sampson Combat, as he was ealled, was
a singular being, in every acceptaticn:o.
ithe: ‘word. His form was:not above thie
middle size, yet it was most symmetrically
proportioned, withthe exception ofthe arm:
which ‘were:of singular:and unusual lenge
His forehead was broad and full, the e7éw
grey and piercing, and the whole;counten-
ance indicative ofva mind of ‘superior quaki-
ties, yet there was am air of eccentricity
blended »withalmost every look and gésture,
that sorely puzzled the observer, who would
seek to form some opinions of the character
of ‘the man, by the appearance of the exter-
nals. His locks that had once been dark,
were now grey, indeed, fast approaching
whiteness. His features and form, were of
the cast that so adinirably conceals tke foot:
prints of time, 'and Sampson might have been
fifty, or even sixty yearsiof age. Still his
motions were’ quick, and his step elastic,
whilst his speech was sprightly and! joyous
as youth. t

He was dressed precisely as eccentric ag
hé looked: THis coat had. once ‘been hight,
ornamented with lace ‘and ‘tinsel, that was
now faded and tarnished, and ‘seemed 'te
have'been in'setvice fora long time. His
short breeches’ were made of buckskin,
upon the ¢leanliness of whose texture “the
pipe-clay had not yet ceased to operate,
and heavy horsemen’s~ boots, with low-iro’
heels, joined them at the knee. «His head
wasisurmounted by a ‘woollen cap of the
most vivid red, upon one side of which..waa
a cockade, thickly studded with precious
stones. ‘A broad yellow. belt, encireled, hia

 

Penna cit
Sapa e na

x=

so pereggece
= ee
ee ——

eset
oN ner gigs

 
     

waist, from which: depended a sword: case,

of thé most elegant wild elaborate |) -work-»

emanship.

‘After: thepresentation: of duacitens he;

gazed.at the youth|so! intently: and fixedly,

2s to call up the color to his forehead s,yet |
einvhis» gaze there/was nothing of rudeness .

or vulgar curiosity. “He seemed either to
‘be reading’ the: young: man’s thoughts, or
‘tracing his features line by line; tofind:a
resemblance to some previous dequaintance.
The latter:motive appeared the most proba-
ble, for after he had completed) his gaze, he
turned upon his heel, remarking bin a low
tone, as if its language was not intended for
other! ears than his owi " ’
He was wonderfully like ‘and at: the
name age!” ‘
‘ Now,” exclaimed Vernon, as: Sampson
turnedaway, “Iwill introduce you: to an-
other surprise; and that is in my cabin!”

A> few feet from ‘the shore, a thickand
tall alder bush grew against the side, of the
rock, mtol ‘which Vernon thrust; his, way,
closely followed by Fitzgerald,... It eonceal-
ed a cavity, opening into a rock, sufficiently
large (to. admit; the. body ,of)a,.man,in a
crouchit.g posture.,..The entrance extend,
ed into the rock a few feet, and terminated
at a flight.of steps, rudely. cut, in, the soft
and yielding slate. Ascending these steps;
they arrived at a small vestibule, the top,of
which was a door, of plank, lying flatwise
across the rock; , This door. was easily. .re-
moved by Vernon, and it disclosed an aper-
ture large enough to admit the body.,.A

flood ofilight! poured down from above, and
Vernon,! grasping citner edge, of the sur-
founding rock, drew himself upward by; his |
arm, until he gained a footing: on the. floor
above, Turning round, he;assisted his com-
rade? to widke the!ascent/.and Fitzgerald
found himeerf ‘in'a"pleasant, well lighted

‘THE! SCOUT: OF

room, containing a few. piecesof necessary
furniture, and aJarge ‘fire place, upon the
hearth of which a few embers: ‘were lying
The walls and/dome ofthis’ singular apart-
ment were themaked rock.Along thesides
apértures, hadibeen made itoradmit therlight,
and heavy fixtures !of plank were hanging
near each one;fiready in case of necessity to

close them-against missiles or thé weather.

Shelves weresrangéd» round ithe sides°in
different places, upon which. were “thrown

‘books, papers, |drawing utensils, and a few

mechanical simplements, ‘and a) small ‘eup-
‘board occupied:one corner, upon the top ot
which was arranged’ a few pieces of! coarse
crockery... In the opposite’¢orner a/stack’ot
guns. of different |deseriptions ‘were. quietly
reposing,-and,close at -hand was’ a variety
of fishing, tackle, . Two mde hammocks
were slung up on either sideof the fire-place
anda plain pine table stood beside the cup-
boaic.

The apertures con the west side: of this
apartment looked out upon, the: little lake,
whose waves washed the base or the west
ern wall of the singular fortress. The east+
ern side was completely shaded by the. tall
forest trees, and by the etéeping vines with
which the outside of the rock ‘was coveredi
|) “Is not this a fairy palace?” exclaimed
Fitzgerald, after.his compamon had leisures
lyosurveyed the apartment.“ Is it not im.
pregnable too? yow see it: isi solid stone
from the floor to the dome, and put together
by the handicraft.of Nature !” i¢

“J think it is indeed a fairy palace ;? pa:
plied his comrade. “Fairy-like atleast in
its location !”

“ Yet lacking a little in some of it appoinus
ments; I suppose yo. would add ;” rejomed
Vernons “Jvadmit that, but you must! te
member, that fairy implements would not:ba

exactly) the things to handle’ effectively,..m

 

 

 
 

THE SILVER POND. &%

bmes like these. But the first thing that de-
mands my attention is the satisfaction of
my hunger. Has not your long and arduous
alk, sharpened your appetite, or are you so
zll satisfied with the internal appearance
“my kitchen and its fixtures, that you will
forego a trial of the contents of my larder.
Let me assure you, that amongat ell of

Sampson’s accemp.ishments, that of cooking
ranks not least.”

Fitzgerald assented to the proposal of the
Scout, and Sampson, who had entered the
the room, whilst Augustus was engaged in
surveying its appointments, instantly wen?
about preparing dinner.

 

if
!

Mena
  
 
   
   
   
  
 
 
    
  
   
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
    
   

Eeetstes

THE SCOUT G2?

CHAPTER fa.

}

Rachel Morris spent a long and anxious
night in her lite chamber. She knew not
but the lights that gleamed against the sky,
and the distants shouts that occasionally
greeted her ears, were rejoicings over the
death agonies of her lover. When the
morning dawned, she left her room, and
sought to cool her burning brow, in the fresh
breezes upon the piazza.

Here her overcharged mind found relies,

- tor the man whom she had despatched dur-

ing the previous day, for information in re-
gard to the success of the pursuing party,
had just returned from the inn, and inform-
ed her that the search was unsuccessful, that
Fitzgerald had escaped, and the vivid light,
of the mghts, were occasioned by the burn-
ing of the Whig dwellings. Overjoyed at
tiie receipt of this intelligence, she alirost
flew to Mrs. Sinclair’s room, in order that,
that distressed woman, who felt the utmost
anxiety in regard to the fate of the youth-
ful champion, might participate in her re-
oieing.

She doubted not now forthe safety of
Fitzgerald. She knew the settlements of
Whigs were in all directions around, and
that when once among them, they would de-
fend him with their lives. Her aunt also!
rejoiced over bissirigitlar and fortunate es-

cape.

It is necessary for us, et tnis period of
eur narrative, to give the reader the history
of Mrs. Sinclair’s girlhood, and of her con
nection with her husband, and some of the
personages of this story.

Agnes Glenwood, (for that was her mai-
den name) was the daughter of a Captain in
a British regiment of dragoons, and who
was supposed to have been lost ina cam-
paign in Burmah. As her mother had died
when she was scarce a years old, she wag
left in the charge of her maiden aunt, at the
time her father departed from England,
Some six or seven years after the news of
her father’s supposed death, reached her,
her aunt embarked for America, and select-
ed a residence in Boston, where she lived
upon asmall annuity She was a woman
of the most unbounded covetousness and
avarice, proud to disgust, and haughty to ner
inferiors, yet she was most profuse and lay
ish, in her expenditures for the education

and accomplishments of her charge,
Egbert Glenwood, the father of Agnes.

had married against the will of her relatives
who thought he lowered himseif in the eyes
of the world by his alliance; inasmuch ar
the woman of his choice lacked in worlds

goods, although she was rich in every grace
accomplisment, and virtue. This iad en

/
gendered a mutual coldness between hin.

 

 

 
 

 

THE SILVER POND. Gs

self, his sister and twé oldertrothers, which
constituted his family, and’ was probably one
cause that induced him to follow: his regi-
ment to the burning regions of India.
Shortly after the departure of the aunt,
Miss Susan Glenwood, for America, an ec-
centri¢ friend of Captain Glenwood’s died;
leaving to him if he should be found, or his

hers, property’ to the amount’ of” several’

hundred thousand pounds sterling, ‘which
was safely and properly invested by the ex-
ecutor, to await the arrival of its owner
irom foreign lands, or some other disposi-
tion. Some years after, however, notice
was received in England, from the Governor-
genera! of the Indies, that Captain Glenwood
had ‘been Jost, by straying’ from his ¢om-
mand, when on a ravaging canipaign’ if
some of the interior provinces, and that ‘it
had undoubtedly been murdered by~ the
blood-thirsty ratives. The most ‘diligent
‘gedrch and inquiry had been instituted, and
the result was, that his sword, and uniform
coat, had been discovered in the possession
of a distant tribe, the leaders of which ads
mitted that the original owner of them, had
been kiiled.

The news was forthwith transmitted to
Atuerica, accompanied by a letter from the
executor, in which he stated, that he shou d
have no obiection to’ paying ‘the profits of
Captain Glenwood’s investment, or of sur
rendering the whole of his charge, “when
his orphar daughter shou d become of age,
82 10 doubt existed at the present time, of
the death of the unfortunate officer.

Agnes Glenwood was fifteen years of age

‘when her aunt received this epistle, con-
aining so much of importance’to herself,

vet she was never informe’ its contents.-—
Indeed, she had always been informed that
her father was a wild and improvident man,
who had cared nothing for his: wife or her

offspring, and that she ‘was, indebted. to has
aunt for ‘sustenance and: protection, and
even for life itself. The most rigid guard
was constantly maintained over her, and
she was ‘permitted to: associate with none,
save those desiguated and approved by her
aunt. i
Agnes was a most lovely bud, for, as: yety

the flower:was: not: fuljy unfolded 5. of &

warin, generous, and confiding nature, for-,

getful and forgiving of) injuries, yet firm
and determined, when her. perceptions: .of
right, supported her in resistance., »About
this time ‘she’ became. acquainted Edward
Vernon, who atended a school, directly op-
posite the one in which she herself:was
taught. 'They*lived in theisame: street, and

their opportunities for association were :fre-

gent, in their journevings to and:from schooi:

They became’ atiached to eacli’ other, as
first as friends froin.a congeniality of tastes
and pursuits, but. in two short years; therm,
friendship #ipened into love, of the warmest
and most enduring kind.

Their intimacy, nay, in fact their attach,
mént was’ at) last discovered:by the ascer-
betic Miss Susan, who had. purloined a bil-
let from Agnes’ reticule, in. which) the ar-
dent young Vernon was profuse in his prom-
ises of eterdal constancy, and undying Jove,
This greatly enraged the, haughty. dame,
and she forthwith résolved, that. her, niece
should be taught better manners, than te
engage het ‘affections, or countenance the
addresses of a young man, without first.ob+
taining her consent. ;

At-the first convenient - opportunity, A g-
nes was-severely reprimanded for receiving
and perusing such an. epistle, without. the
knowledge of her guardian, :and; was. in-
formed also, that, a: severe punishment was
in store for her,-in,case she didnot, imme-
diately decline the ‘young man’s: attentions

 

 
 

ee

and conduetsherselffor thes: future with far,
thore. caréoand; precautions: \The )preten-
sionsyof tlie presumptiious!oMr. Vernon >to
gentilitydand respectability, were: severely
animadverted 'uponyand: he!pronounced to
tally unworthy of the Hand.ofiher ward.
The severe censures to which her lover
way subjected, and the’ gross »and:indeco-
rous language used, roused the soul. of the
gentle’ Agness:iatid: she replied with spirit
It
was'theifirstitime that she had, ever-dared,

and eloquence; in defence of “her lover:

to dispute her jaunt, and that, worthy was,
completely thunderstruck, at what she) was
pleased to call, Her niecé’s temerity and ef.
frontery.

The result of thé’ whoue ‘affair was, that
Agnes was taken from her school, and for
several months the lovers were entirely sep;
arated.’ They, however, found means to

communicate, through ‘a itendershearted fe:
fiale servant, and eventually they contrived
to meet ina clandestine manné|. ‘The op-
position that they met with) only served to
ificréase the ardot of their love,and strength-
et their detetmination to unite their fates
“at all hazards: 4
“<The family of Edward Vernon, although
for ftor' being! wealthy, were . nevertheless
distinguished for talent and:moral worth,
He was'the lonly son of a metchant, wlio
was more distinguished for benevolence and
‘Upright dealing, than for the magnitude: of
his schemes, or the splendor of his success-
itwas originally the intention of his father,
to fit him for the counting-house, »butihe
ihanifésted such an aversion tothe busixiess,
that' he finally consented to prepare:hime for
due bf the’ professions, He 'was according-
Ty placed tiider the tutelage of proper teach-
ors, ‘arid’ wad’ Isdon ‘acknowledged as the
brightest ornartient in’thé school. | «
“About thi time, th? difficulties whith had -

THE SCOUTOF

existed for.a long time,between,the motner
country and her edlonies; assumed,a serious
and,alarming attitude. : Both: Edward Ver
non and,(his’ father. -warmly,, espoused. the
cause of, the colonies. and the. latter, rose te
distinction;and influence, by. his voice in the
councils,of the old ‘Cradle of Liberty.’ , It.
soon, hecame;apparent that a, war, would en-
sue, which, aroused within the, sanguine Kd
ward,,an, almost ,anrestrainable desire to
serve his, country, in the ‘ tented field,”
..A,new annoyance to, Agnes Glenwood
took place, which caused not only herself,
but Edward Vernon great) uneasiness. A
new.suitor claimed her hand, after a briet
acquaintance, and that too, backed with the
influence of her aun, who continually per-
plexed and annoyed her with importunities
in regard to her new lover, This personage
was no other than Sinclair, who had lately
arrived from England, and who was @ mem
ber, and report said a, near, relative of the
family, of, the odious General Gage. He
was an. old and, heartless libertine, and a
gamester.. Report also said that he was.a
bankrupt, and had emigrated to America, to
avoid the importunities of his creditors. 4

«, By some means or other, Sinclair had as-
certained, that Agnes, was, the sole, heiress
to,an immense fortune, although he. eauti-

“evsly. concealed his, knowledge. of this fact

front Miss ‘Susan,.and it was, from a desire
to. retrieve. his rvr‘ned. fortune, and once
more; possess the means. of continuing hie
debaucheries.and vices, that .he sought, the
hand of .the fair and blooming girl). He
easily comprehended.,the character of , her
guardian, and counted upon, the influence
of his distinguished relatives, to assist him

-in-seeuring his prize.

» He contrived to secure an, introduction ta
Susan; who was; tolerated ,in,,some,of , the
dwellings: of the-aristocracy,;and found that

 

 
 

 

 

THE SILVER ‘POND.

she was exactly the perso to become the
dupe of his arts, He’ was’ invited 'to” her
fiousé, Appeared’to'bé flattéred™ bythe no- +
tice bestowed Upol! hit, ‘and promptly” ap!
yeared as requested. ”' His" whole conversa-
tion was tamed’ to” his | rélativés)" both “in
America and Eagland ; to thei’ wealth, it:
fluence and’ distinction, ‘and “Hé also des-
canted rapturously upon the béauties of his
own estate, ana the burning desire that poss
sessed him to get back to its “enjoyment
once more.

All this’ was' ‘believed by the vain ‘and
credulous Susin; and with a delighted’ eye
she marked the pdinted and unmistakable

attentions that the illustrious Joseph’ was’
Heré‘he’

played another adroit game, for with a tact

pleased to bestow upon her niece.

as keen as a politician, he ascertained that
the beautiful and artless Agnes was’ not
aware thatshe was the lawful possessor of
a penny in the world. from this ‘he took
his que, and the reader shall soon see how
consummately he played his ‘part.

"Sinclair was emphatically a man’ of the
world, and soon saw plainly that the mind ‘ot
the ward was far different from thé mind ot
the guardian. [fe knew alsdithat it would
be vailt and foolish for hiin te‘offer his: haité
to Agnes, | He was assured in his ownnind
that it would be rejected, and perhaps ‘with

scorn. | He had perceived that Susan’ exer!
eised the most atbitrary and relentless pow?!

er over her niéce; anid through’ the instr!”

mentality of Susan, ne hoped td succeed.
For several months Sinclair was ‘con-

gtant in his attenddnce at the house of Sa

san Glenwood. ‘He was unremitting in his

attentions to’ Agnes, galianting ‘Her to re-"
views and parades, seating her’ in theatres’
and conce ‘ts, although he might plainly per-'

Seive that his ¢allantries were any thing But

pleasing. She consented to go out with

eR
hith, be’ sure; Wit it'tvas only from a hope’ ot
seeing the lover bf her choice.

°AP letigth” Sitelait rediiested a’ private
his had’ been
long “éxbedted “by' that’ redoubtible per:

adiencé of “Miss Susan.

sonage, and of course ‘was most readily
gtanted: * With the utmost éooltiess'andSa
gasity, he'tinfolded "6! her his ~_ which
Were newly as follows’; |

‘He said‘he lid corte to the ‘oatbecim to’
wed; and retutit td Bigland and séitle per’
manéntly'on his estates.” "The sighs of the
times predictedthat a ‘bloody struggle was
about’ to'enstie between the ‘colonies and
the’ mothér land, the Wistieases' ane? Galante
tiés of which would be! felt ByAmeriea
done.” He had iio'desire ‘to’ witness suéh
séenes as would ‘probably be enactéd, and
beside that he had ceased ‘to’ feel the wild’
pulses 6f boyhood, and 'redéenised no beat:
Fie‘had an
dbtthdance of this world’s goods, and enter-

ings but ‘those of manhdod!

tained a strong desire to enjoy them in the
rational endeatierits of #! domestic hearth-
ston6.” Tn short, he confessed that he! waa
thost desperately ‘in love with Mies Aénea,”
and felt that the possession’ of her person”
was thdispensable is his futtite “happiness.
Without her, in fact, lic should Be miserable,
“] knéw,” said he, in conclusion “that
the young lady is entitled to the possession’
of a princely forttine, when she attdins hes
rHajotity, but to sliow you how little E eithiér®
_ regard or néed her money, T intéhd 86 oon”
“ ab’shé is my ‘wedded wife, fo rélease all” my” ,
right, title atid ititérest’ tiiereih,'to’ her’éx:”
cellent aunt, under ‘Whose “Adinitiable care”
and management she has Become one of the
lovelieSt of women?” As he coneluded thie’
elébdnt specimen of ganithon, he grasped”
the blushing Stisin waithly by the hand)
and asked if his suit! was acéeptable to her"
“When Sinclair iertioned'the fortune’ ef"

 

 

 

 
 

6

Agnes, the face.of Susan assumed the hue
of death, but when he announced his magna-
Rimous resolution of releasing it all to her,
i would be difficult to. describe the . delici-
oxs and tumultuous emations that strove for
the mastery. in her bosom, It wasa master
stroke of policy in, Sinclair, and secretly,
yet solemnly did she vow: that Agnes should
wed him, no matter what means should. be
All

the feelings of her. soul, and, they, were

required) to compel her. acqufiescence.

pride. and covetousness, were enlisted, in
favor of the munificent lover.

She concealed her emotions, .however,
and replied, simperingly, that she was high-
ly, flattered.by the preference he: had shown
her niece, when ,she was, confident that so
many, possessing more beauty and more ac-
complishments, would rejoice at similar
proposals, from so distinguished a-source }
yet she informed him, thathe might have po
fears for his success, for Agnes should wed
hii. Se

Sinclair left the house, a happy nan. He
felt that-affluence and the servility it always

commands, were once more within his reach?

and he rejoiced exceedingly. As for his

" bride, that is. to say, her person, he cared

vthing. His sordid heart was steeled to
ae influence of beauty or innocence ;, the
money was his god!

At the earliest opportunity, the young
girl was informed of Sinclair's distinguished
offer, and. at the same time Miss Susan in-
formed her, that she must close in with the
offer. “ You are now of a marriageable age
and the times prognosticate tempests and
war, and every female will want the protec-
tion of a stronger arm than theirown, I
myself shail relinquish this establishment,
and. in all probability return to England, and
spend the remainder of my days. Sinclair’s
wealth and influence.is.unboundec, andyhe

THE SCOUT, OF

1g just of the age.to. make you an.affection
ate and pliable husband!”

With her heart fully aroused, and indig,
nation flashing from; her eyes, Agnes, pe-
remptorily declined the offer. She requested
that her aunt, would never mention the sub-
ject again, in her presence; deciaring that
the very thoughts it calledup, were painfal
Both. Mr. Sinolair.and his wealth, she des-
pised, and as; for the approaching storm,
jt had no terrors for her, and she desired to
shelter from its threatened fury.

Susan was somewhat daunted at tne bold,
and determined stand, taken by her usually
guict, and submissive niece; yet she re
so!ved; that, all her prejudices and hatred
shouldbe overcome, by force, if not with
conyiction. _ She restrained her passions,
which were thoroughly aroused at the fiat
refusal that her proposition met with, and
for the first time in herlife, begged and en-
treated of her niece, a compliance with her
wishes. She was told, however, that plead
ing and entreaty, were alike in vain, and
that she. positively avauld not wed Mr
Sinclair!

Ina few days, Edward Vernon. was in
formed of the, proposals of his new rival, by,
the family domestic, before alluded to, and
it pained him even more than it did Agnea,
He knew the character of the aunt, and the
power and influence of Sinclair; and from
information he had receiyed, he more than
sugpected that the bankrupt roue would
Seruple at no means. of carrying outhis de-
signs. :

For a series of weeks, Miss Susan used
an infinite variety of arts, to induce her
resolute niece to alter her determination:
but all were of no avail,
refusing Sinclair, and all hig, splendid offers
and. even refused to see him, during his
daily calls at her, aunt’s residence. He was

She persisted in

 

 
 

 

eautioasly.-apprised, of her, stubbornness,
and it) was, finally, agreed, upon between
ninself and Miss Susan, that both stratagem
and) force sheuld be made: use of: to:insure
hei suecess

The) Boston Boys,” «is they, were comi-
monlytermed; had; already, had several ise-
werd, and bloody, affrays, vith; the ,king’s
troops stationed: inthe ¢ityy and with those
who: were living updn pthespatronage:bf ithe
goveriment. Inunost of these: skirmishes,
vz riots/as they were contemptuously styled,
bythe royalists,ithe * Boys” shad been suc-
cessful, andiso powerful liad) become.the
combination; and boldiwere they in theinat-
tacks and resentments; that many: of xthe
royalists, absolutely stood in fear ofithéir
lives;and for their property:

Rdward Vernon wasoone of the acknowe
He had
entered with his whole? soul the great dis-

sedged leaders of this oAssociation.

cussion of the» day, ‘and leaving his) books
for the benefit of the tiniorous’and:inactive ?
hehad become’ engaged in'collecting arms
ting

end: enrol volunteers for the great and

‘expected contest. «Ry some means," Miss
Susan had discovered that he yet ‘contrived
to. communicate with her neice,‘and know
mg; as she did, the young lady’s' preference
for him, she «greatly feared°that his ‘beld
and» daring’ spirit, would conceive -sonie
plan, by) which» she would be ‘defrauded ot
her subsidy, and Sinclair lose” his: bride.,
She therefore hinted to the latter gentleman,
that he ‘had better use his’ influence with
Gage; and "have young Vernon safely dis-
posed of, before they ‘proceeded to the final
accomplishment of their plan:

This was readily assented to, and in these
mrbulent tires, cireumstancéss would ‘not

wanting to entrap a violent: partisan. op-
posed to tho powers ‘yet holding the°reina
of government. Upon the’“most flimsy ‘pré-

 

TH SILVER POND

formed.

65

texts, patriots had seen amprisoned, and.of
course ‘the same-thing might: again be per-
If Vernon
Agnes was» wedded, the danger.would be

was. confined until

past,and a!] apprehensions, arising from the
fean/ of interference, quieted: Gage, who
dee minthe secrets of his, relative; was cox”
sulted; and» promised. that, the young maa
should be arrested, as soon as. two. expected
Without. their
presence, he: was’ fearful that the “ liberty

regiments arrived «im town.

boys”. svonld. attempt--and oeffect..arescue,
the «consequences of which.would.be severe-\
ly feltynot only by Sinclair himself,.bu* the

Colonial Government.

Fortune seemed: to: favor’ Sinelan, - for
within) a few ‘weeks after his, conference
with Gage, both the: troops,,and. the oppor
tunity to imprison ‘Vernon, ),arrived on: the
waine day.» The young mani ‘was arrested
whilst|haranguing a» detachment, of, ihe
“Boys” in| front of the {Cradle of Libes
ty;” and) was immediately, sent.to.a. prison.
. Preparations for the speedy. consumma-
tion! of the plot, were now rapidly advanced.
A worthless and dissipated young mar
who had been highly educated, and intend-
ed forthe tministry, but whose vices. had.
obtained the mastery of his «morality, was:
employed ‘by Sinclair, to perform a mock--
marriage’ ceremony, and the bribery of a
Sexton, belonging to one of the numerous:
Chapels of the town, gave ther the entrance.
to an altar, and “promised: to secure them

‘from interruption. »» Nothing remained, but.

some plan, by which’ Agnes could be in-
duced to vigtt tie! Chapel in the evening,
without having her suspicions arvused.

It may seem somewhat) strange to» the
reader, that Susan and Sinclair could hope
to'suceded, by a scheme so wicked, ands so
entirely opposed to right, and to the Jawa!
‘Yet it shénld be borne in mind; that! both:
 

were utterly unprincipled. and both acting
under the influence of rowerful and almost
resistless passions, Avs the reader has been
already informed, the governing traits of the
aunt’s character, were pride and covetous-
ness. The promise made by Sinclair, to
release the fortune of Agiies to her, a pro-
mise, by the way, never made to be perform-
ed, had aroused all her desires for wealth,
and at the same time, the alliance was gra-
tifying to her pride. Sinclair, on the other
hand, saw in the consummation of his pur-
pose, a return to his country, and to the en-
joyment of those luxuries, that a course of
riotous living had made so dear to him.
His gaming club, his opera box, his dashing
establishment, were the allurements in the
future, @rat led him blindly on.

The news of Vernon’s incarceration, was
most carefully kept from Agnes, and to her
sanguine and ardent temperament, his long
and continued silence seemed like neglect.
The female domestic; who had acted as the
medium of communication between them,
had, whenever she was questioned upon the
subject, declared that the young man no
longer met her as usual, and that she was
always unable tocatch even a glimpse of his
figure inthe street. Agnes felt deeply this
seeming neglect, aud wept freely in. secret
over the complication of sorrows with which
she was afflicted.

One consolation was left her, inthe midst ,
of ail the gloom. Her aunt had lately
ceased to importuno her, upon the subject
Wf her marriage with Sinclair She was
also more sociable and familar, than she
aad ever before shown hersedf, and) Agnes
was flattered with the belief that she would
3 troubled no more with vhe odious preten-
sions of the rake. Poor girl, whilst she was
“rejoicing over the success of her own de-

termination an] endurance, she little dream-

THE SCOUT OF®

 

She did

not imagine then 4 pian was ripe for her

ed of the trial yet in store for her:

capture.

Susan at length venturea to name a night,
when Sinclair should be in readiness at the
little chapel. He accordingly commum
cated with ‘the sexton, and with the mock
priest, and at'an early hour, himself and his
accomplices were on the ground. Himself
and the priest, seated themselves within the
railing of the altar, listening to the rain that
kept pattering from without, as if weeping
over the outrageous event about to take
place.: Sinclair was fearful that the rain
would prevent the arrival of the aunt and
her wird, and was consequently gloomy'and
abstracted. {ny

Karly in the morning of the unfortunate
day, Susan announced, to her tnsuspecting
victim, thatan eminent divine, of whose
eloquence and power she had heard flaming
accounts, was to preach that evening in the
little chapel, and. expressed a deiernunation
to attend, provided her mece would accom-
pany her. ,.Wearied with the confinement
of home, and sick at, heart, the unsuspect-
ing girl-consented, glad of an opportunity
of breathing the fresh air, and gazing fora
short. time upon. stiange faces, and new
When ,the darkness had settled

down, she appeared at the door of her niece’s

@cones.

apartment, notwithstanding the, ceaseless
raiz, and announced her readiness to: pro-
ceed.’ This somewhat surprised Agnes, dis
her aunt had.always evinced a feer of the
campness, yet:she complicd with her. pro-
mise;and arraying herself for thé weather,
she took Miss; Susan’s proffered arm, and
they sallied forth for the chapel.

With much difficulty they succeeded’: in
finding it, and when they arrived at the door,
Agnes drew back, and urged a return tome,
when, she discovered only one pale lame

 
 

 

within, Her aunt, however, insisted upon
entering, rematking at tae same time, that
they.were probably early, and that the ser-
vices had not commenced.

As soon as they entered the vestibule, the
door was closed, and locked by the sexton,
and in, a’ moment after Agnes. recognised
For the first time,
suspicions, that something in relation to her-

the, person of Sinclair.

self was on foot, crossed her mind, and she
turned toward her aunt, as if for information.
Miss Susan’s eves were averted, and Agnes
discovered that a burning blush, mantled
the unusually pale brow of heraunt. Sin-
clair approached her with an air of great
respect, and withdrawing a coupie of chairs
from the altar, placed them in the aisle, and
requested the ladies to be seated. The
mock, priest made a low obeisance, and in a
moment after a painful silence reigned
throughout*the house.

Agnes trembled violently, and asked her-
self tle meaning of this strange proceeding,
yet it was a question that she could not an-
swer. Sinclair was intently engaged with
twirling his watch-key, and her aunt sat in
such a position as to prevent a view of her
face.

ly turning, over the leaves of a small book,

The counterfeit priest was careless

and the sexton was reclining in a pew, at
the farther extremity of the church,

At last, with a painful. effort, Sinclair
broke the silence. He arose from his seat,
and approaching Miss Susan, he said,—

*I suppose madam, that the ceremony had
better proceed, inasmuch as the company
are all assembied.”

“Oh. certainly ;” replied the aunt, in
a voice singularly low and tremulous. “ We
have come for that purpose !”

The pretended priest forthwith laid aside
hus book, and after arranging a table to suit

.. ais convenience, he lighted another lamp

 

THE SILVER POND

67

and drew from his coat, a small roll of paper
and materials, for writing. Turning to Sint
clair, he said,— ?

“As you are the party of the first part
you will first place your signature to this
contract.”

Sinclair immediately complied with the
directions, and placed his signature at the
Aa
he laid down his pen the spurious dignitary

bottom of a sheet filled with writing.

continued—

“Now we will have the young lady’s sig
nature, after which the ceremony will pro-
ceed with despatch, for the night wanes!”

The truth of the design’ on -foot) flashed
across the mind of the terrified girl, imme-
diately after the conclusion of these words
She saw that she had been betrayed by her
aunt; and that it was expected that she was
to become the bride of the man she hated:
The violence of -her trembling increaseds
and a faintness:caused her brain to reel,
She was soon aroused, however, by her aunt
who approached her, and whispered—

“Come dearest, sign the paper, and ina
few moments more, we will concluze the
ceremony, and return home !” j

“Sign what paper ?” asked Agnes faintly

“Why the marriage contract between
yourself'and Mr. Sinclair. to be sure. ‘To-
night has been set apart to complete the
nuptials.”

“T will never wed him!” exclaimed Agnes,
rising from her seat, and assuming a look of
wounded delicacy. “I have repeatedly told
you that I would never wed him; and I now
repeat, that I would sooner become thr
bride of the grave, than of a wretch lik
him !”

“You are mistaken, indeed you are, my
young Miss, You will wed him, and that
too, before you leave this house. All oppe-
sition will be utterly useless, and you may

 
 

ea well surrender at once ; replied Susan,
feuiting on an air of determination, and even
nf sternness.

‘The spirit,that had been aroused within
the helpless girl, was fast dying away. She
saw that she was completely in the power
of her enemies, and that none were near to
Sinclair, stood by perfectly
mute, whilst the priest looked as unsurprised

guccor her.

as if such scenes were a part.and parcel of
the From her aunt,
she had nothing to expéct but'‘compulsion ,

marriage, ceremony.

end bursting into,tears, she threw herself
into.2 chair, and, wept freely,

Silence again ensned, for, some minutes
Agnes.continued weeping, and Susan, fear-
ing some, unlooked or interruption, and
anxious that the mockery should be com-
pleted, called upon Sinclair to assist her, in
compelling the refractory. giri to sign the
contract. .He immediately consented, and
notwithstanding. the struggles and even
shrieks,of the .agonized, girl, they forced
her to, the.altar, whilst the priest, putting a
pen in her hand, traced her name across the
bottom of the:syritten sheet., The marriage
ceremony was thenhastily, gone through
with,.and although the. shrieking girl, re-
sponded... Joud and, emphatic “no,” when
her answer should have been “ yes,” the

counterfeit. minister pronounced,them man
ands wife, and even went through the-horrid
mockery, of asking the bene odiction of a God
of justice upon the union,

After

Agnes, was, released, and staggoed hack

the conclusion .of the, ceremony,

to the seat, from which she had been drag

ged.
and she

{Lage and mortification niled her oreast
awaitea with fear the next scene
in tke horrid drama, , In a few,morents,
however. her aunt asked jher to accompany
he; oie, and scarcely, knowing what. she

ras doing. she accepted of her arm, for she

Tk SCOUT OF

‘break fast-room.

 

 

trembled tod vile: Sy'to:Sttppoit hersél fy aia
they quitted ‘the church." Not!a’ word was
spoken on the ‘toad home, and" as ‘soon as
Agnes reached her own ‘apartment, “she
threw herself upon the bed, to pass'the night
in tears.

‘Susan ‘Glenwood was a happy woman
She had accolnplished a schemé'that ‘power
fuliy united her with a man of influence, ane
that secured to her, in her own’ Sight) thie
property that she" hdd hithéttd enjoyéds
through the instrumentality of fraud and de
ceit. She slept soundly ‘over the perpetra
tion of her iniquity, atid it was very’ late'the
next morning, when she deseéndéd ‘to “her
Agnes had not'yet made
her‘ appearance, dnd she gave orders’ that
she néed not be Wisturbéed. Near noon’a
newspaper was placed in her ‘hands by’ the
servant, and Her eye sdon ‘rested upon ‘the
following announcement?

“Married, in'Queen’ Street Chapel, las’
Walker, the ties
clair, to the ‘beautiful ‘and "ae-

evening, by the Rev. Mr. W:
Joseph Sin
complished Agnes Glenwood.”

“T wonder if’ the’ foolish inmx Wwill'dare
to continue refractory, now thit” the world
knows of her marriage ?” ejaculated Miss
Susan to herself, after she had’ réad'thé no-
tice.

Before ‘Agnes descénded from her ¢ham-

bet, she’Wrote!“a' long’ epistle. to! Bdward

Yernon, detailing to him the scene, through
which she'had pissed the previous evening,
and beseeching him'to dévise sotné plan
tor delivering her'out of the’ hands’ of her

fora long time her miidénly’ ‘veserve
revolted at the idea of sending’ hér lettér'to
her. over, but her fear of what riyfitWere-
served for her in’ the future “at length
triumphed, and she gave it to’ her°faitlifal

maid, with an in‘wnetion to use all dligttice

 

 
 

 

aatil she found the person to whom she was
addressed. The maid promised her  untir-
ng endeavors, and resolved’ to, meet ‘her
aunt) p>ldiy, and- upbraid her for, her dupli-
city, she descended for her breakfast,

Miss Susan had left the. breasfast-room
before her injured niece entered, and she
partook of the meal, alone and undisturbed.
Soon after her return to her own apartment
a servant thrust,in the newspaper containing
the account of her marriage on the:previous
evening, saying at the same time, that, it,
had been sent her by Miss Susan.

The tears flowed afresh, as she read the
announcement, but they were pot tears of
sorrow. or useless regret. They were tears
occasioned by an excess of indignation.

“ Poor fool!” she exclaimed, as she threw
“He
dezeives himself, mot wonderously, if he

the paper violently upon the floor.

_ thinks to bind me as his wife, by the procla-
mation of last night’s mammeries !”

For a month she never saw the face of
Sinciair, yet she learned from the. servants
that he, was regular in his daily visits to the
aouse.. This, she supposed was done to im-
press (he public with the fact, that he had
been in, thasociety of his wife. Despite of

her siturtuon, Agnes could, not forego a
laugh at nis folly, and at the witless course
pursued by ber aunt,

Every day. the servant, to whom she had
entrusted the epistle for Edward Vernon, re-
turned from her prolonged rambles about
the city, bringing to her mistress, each day.
a bitter disappointment. Edward Vernon
never made his appearance, neither: could
ahe, by the utmost, exertion of her skill, find
out his whereabouts, or learn tne cause of
ais absence from the public walks, and from
places of popular amusements. Agnes ¢ could

aot bring herself to believe that he had, or

would desert her an! ehe finally. settled up.

 

THE SILVER POND 69

on the conclusion, that business, of an cm
portant nature called him from ;Beston,

By and by, Agnes received s, notification
from her aunt, that. she, must , prepare te te-
ceive her husband, and, make, her appear-
ance in public in his company, inasmuch as
the. total seclusion :of. the: fortunate and
blooming bride, was becoming the talk of
the whole town. In, order , to frighten her
into-a. compliance with this mandate, the
heartless hypocrite; insinuated that rumors
of the most scandalous nature were already
afloat, because she had. not yet gratified the
people with a view of ber charms, since they
became the sole property of Joseph Sinclair

To, this notification, Agnes returned the
most prompt and positive refusal. She even
threatened, that in case Sinclair attempted
to intrude himself into her presence, she
would call in the aid of the civu authorities
and seek protection where it would be grant
ed, This somewhat, intimidated the bel
dame, and for a brief space, her importuni-
ties on that point ceased. They were des-
tined, however; to assume another shape,
more tormenting. and aggravating; if suck
a thing could be.

One evening, the maid, wha was still en-
deavoring to ferret out the whereabouts of
Vernon, returned; after, having remained
more than an hour beyond her usual time,
and Agnes saw by her, coun:enance, thatshe
had at Jast been sucee-sful in her search.
As. soon as \the girl had, become seated,
Agnes exclaimed, her eye brightening, and
her cheek glowing. y ”

* What news, Mariah, Iam sure you
have discovered him atlist. Did you give
tim the letter 77 \

“T have found where he ig to be sure,”
replied the overjoyed girl ; “but I have wat
seen him. _ He will get your letter ora
notwithstanding !” ‘

ho Se

 

 
 

70

“Ah! thank God. then I may hope for
relief from this horrible persecution.’ [ am
sure he will not delay’a day.”

“He may not beable to come to your as-
sistance, a3 Soon as you imagine,” said ‘the
girl; “ for he is in difficulty himself!”

“Tn difficulty ; how do you mean?” ea-
gerly isked Agnes.

“T thouzht it’ was ‘singular,” replied ‘thie
girl, dreading at once to come to the point ;
“that T did not meet him in any of my ram-
bles about’ thé places that he used to fre-

guent, but to-nightpas'I was passing slowly

 

through’ the Mall, an old man i

“Oh! do not keep’ me in suspense, Ma-
riah, but tell meat once about his difficul-
ties!”

“Well, then,” said Mariah, hesitating ;
“he is in prison !”

“Tn prison!” ‘slow'y repeated Agnes,
leaning baek in her chair,’ whilst her sip
quivered, and her cheek blanched ; “ for
God’s sake tell me, if you know, for what
hé is confined !” ;

“That is what I-was doing, when you in-
“ You

need not be alarmed, for there is’ nothing

terrupted me,” replied’ the maid.

éerions in his confinement, and be will soon
be at liberty.” :

“Now tell me the ‘whole story,” said
Agnes. ;

Well, as 1 said before, I was passing
slowly through the’ Mall, when an old man
came up to'me, and asked ‘if I did not live
with Miss Susan Glenwood. “I told him that
‘did; and he asked me‘to take a seat be-
I de-
clined at first, feeling somewhat ‘afraid, as

side him, unter the shade of a tree.

the old man booked dark and savage. He
told me that I need not fear him, and that
he had some important news for Miss
Hearing this I hesitated
no longer, and when we had taken a@

- ffusan’s hiece.

»

 

THE SCOOT OF

seat, I asked him: if he: knew ‘Edward
Vernon,

“ ‘Edward Vernon!’ cried. the old. man,
as if trying to remember): “ aly! yes; that
is his name, Tam sures: Theyosay he’ is‘in
prison, and‘ Iam going this mght to see
him!" : fom

“Theard no more before f gave the old
man the’ letter, and he ‘promised te ‘most
faithfully to deliver it to the young man.
He placed it ‘carefully in his pocket) and
He. wunted’ to

know the color of your éyes, of your hair

then asked'me about you.

and whether you were tal] or short; in short,
I thought that the ol! man: was crazy, "and
was about asking |iim to réturn the letter,
when h> asked’ me ‘if you had ‘married ‘®
man named Sinelair. I fold ‘him no, but
that Miss Susan and Mr. Sinclair had so
At this the old
man appeired to bé greatly excited, and he

published it'to the world.

muttered to him-elf, incoherently, for ‘some
time. At length he turned to me and said,
"here
he broke off abruptly, and started to his

‘Tell your young mistréss that I

 

feet, stood gazing for a minute, and then
exclaiied, “it is he,” an! strode off like a
grenadier. I looked, and saw Mr. Sinclair
crossing the Mall just above me, and the
old man was walking directly toward him.
When they had both passed out ot sight, I
started for home, but met a “liberty boy”
just before I reached the door. [ knew he
was one by his badge, so [asked him if
“Yes,”

said he; ‘but there is not locks enough ir

Hdward Vernon was in prison.

Boston to keep him there two days lon-
ger? 1 then run home to tell you my
news.
Agnes had listened with breathless in-
terest tc this narrative, nevertheless, there
was a look of disappointment on her hand
features, when Mariah condluded. og

 

 
 

  

“Ro,” said she, ‘you did not ascertain
what important news he had for me after
all!” ‘

“| did not,” replisd the girl ; “he left
me just as | have to.d you.”

“Singular, indeed !” said Agnes, musing-
ly. “What kind ofan old man was he ?
Describe his appearance.”

“He was a man of dark complexion, and
[ noticed that his arms were of extraordi-
nary jength. His air, and bearing | should
say, was decidedly of the military order.”

“ Was he armed ?”

“ Yes, he had a very extraordinary sword-

case in his hand. It was the most beauti-

ful one | ever saw !”

“ Did he tell you the cause of Edwar.’s
confinement ?” ;

“No, but the ‘liberty boy’ said it was
merely because Gage wanted to use his au-
tnority, whilst tle people permitted him to
live in Boston.”

The maid was dismissed, and Agnes
mased upon the intelligence she had re-
Who cou'd the

old man be, and what was the purport of the

ceived, for a long time.
news for her? These questions greatly
perplexed her, and it was in vain tliat she
essayedd 10 solve them. She settled down at
last, upon the vague supposition that the old
man, was one of the “rebel, leaders,” as the
people were contemptuously styled, and
that his errand in Boston, was probably
connected with the determination of the
liberty boys” to rescue her, lover.

Sinclair had forborne to visithis pretended
bride, or in any way to thrust himself upon
her notice, in the vain hope that time, aided
by the opinions of a deceived community
would soften her resentment, and finally in-
duce her to accept. and acknowledge him
as her husband. He fancied that sle would
gee, thot, ir, case she continued her opposi-

THE SILVER POND. 71

tion to her aun ‘s commands, tha, her char.
acter would be compromised, and that it
would prove the utter ruination of all her
matrimonia] prospects, if any such she had
in view Acting upon the adage, that
“constant drop,ing” will “wear a stone,”
he took especial pains to circulate rumors
among the people in regard to the “ felicity
of the wedded couple,” and the prospect of
their removal to England, before “ the ex-
pected birth of an heir to the estates of
Sinclair!” ;

These rumors utterly destitute of truth,
as they were, were sure to reach the
ears of Agnes, through the ins'rumentality
of the obsequious Susan, and they proved
the source of great annoyance to her, yet
instead of operating upon her mind, as
Sinclair an icipated, they only served to
strengthen her disgust, and keep alive ha
opposition.

Sinclair aetermined that he would ae
trifled with no longer.. He resolved to. re-
move into some secluded section of the
country, where. ae could use his authority
without fear of interruption, and thus by
brute force, bring matters to a final issue
In order to secure; the. fortwne of the
distressed girl, it, was necessary that she
should sign an acknowledgment of hex
marriage with Sinclair, and likewise an
order for the transfer of her fortune, to, the
account of her husband. This, both Sin-
clair and Susan knew she would never co,
so long as she continued in Boston, where
she could readily command assistance froin
the excited populace, whose cause she had
warmly espcused.and they. therefore resolv-
ed that the fact that she was possessed of a
fortune, should not be disclosed to her, untid
she was beyond the reach of help

In accordance with this resolution, Sin-
clair wrote the letter before. made mention

 
 

wm

non of, to Gersaam Morse, having been in-
duced todo so, from the accounts tliat
reached him of the loyalty of the Gleaming-
tonsettlement- After receiving the reply
of the sagacious publican, he commenced

making préparations for his departure, re

solving at the same time, ‘that’ his neice,
Rachel Morris, and his ward, Augustus

Fitzgerald, should accompany him, in hopes
that their presence would prevent any abso-
lute r-sistance from Agnes, and also quiet
any suspicio:s that might arise inher mind,
with’ regard to the objects really contem
plateé by the removal.

Some weeks before the removal occured-
ed, the attenipt was made by the liberty
bays,” to rescue Edward Vernon, their fa-
vorite and their leader, and it proved suc-
cessiul. Before the king’s troops could rats
iy, and hasten to the:detenee of the prison;
its strong doors were. battered down, and
with loud shouts the pfisoner was taken'to
the open air and hisy fetters knocked off.
He was then hurrid’to a place of concéal-
ment, and all search’ of the royalists, proved
utterly unavailing to discover his hiding-
place. Amongst a multiplicity © of similar
acenes of violence and” disorder, the’ rvscue
was forgotten, and Edvard enierged from
hiv obscurity. }

He had learnsd the proceedings in ré+
gard to Agnes Glenwood, during the days
of his captivity ; and from her own hind
“sad hoard her desire to be liberated from

the situation in which she was placeal! Ens’

raged beyond measure at the Aunt, and at
Sinclair, his ardent soul needed no ‘farther
stimulant to exertion, and collecting aréuhd
“nim a choice band of kindred spirits, he’
frankly related a!l the circumstancés in’ re+
regard to Agnes, and her mock-marriage
with ‘Sinclair, and ‘invited’ them to”ascist
him, in an effort to take yer by force,

peek” \

 

THE SCOUT OF”

froin the power of her ‘aunt and her’ ter
mentor.

 

This appea] was answered bya cordiai
assent from the restiess spirits, and a might.
was set apart forthe undertaking, Resnv-
ed to succeed, or be deterred only by snpe-
rior force, they armed themselves in a formi
dible manner, and early Sait. to the
rendezvous appointed. From this point
they sallied to the house occupied by Mise
Susan, and ina brief apace, had ganed an
entrance. This enterprise would doubtléss
have succeeded. had it not been for an ac
cident beyond the contro! of its conductore.

On the evening in question, a serious riot
had occurred in that portion of the eity im
which the residence of Susan was situated,
between a body of Whigs and royalists, and
80 serious had it become, that 4 regiment of
the roys] troops had been dispatched to
quellit. As usual, upon such occasions,
the combatants dispersed immediately on
the appearance of the troops, and they were
just returning to their quarters, as the at
tack upon Susan’s premises commenced.
They accordingly charged upon Vernon's
lvtle party, and they, instead of penetrating
farther into the mansion, were compelled to
turn and defend themselves, ;

A desperate fight ensued, in wh'ch fire-
arms were freely discharged, and much
blood was shedon each side. A squad waa
sent for to reinforce the royalists, and thé
“liberty boys” overpowered by sumbers,
were at length compelled to leave the
ground, and make good their retreat. This
was a biiter disappointment to Edward Ver:
non, yet it was unavoidable, and he waa
compelled to submit, which he did, -vith‘a
very-ill grace. 8

Some of his companions, however, were
not to be put off in this unceremonious
manner, by dame fortune. ‘Early the ‘next

 

 

 
 

 

morning, flam'ng and bills appeared in
every part of the town, detailing the scanda-
lous mockery of the marriage, and denoune-
ing Sinclair and his accomplices, in the

“most indignant and bitter. manner. The
placard coneluded by exhorting all good
men and true, to rally in defence of the help-
leas female, and deliver her from the hands
of the “ Phil st'nes,”

This «ttack, and ihe appearance of the
placard, caus. d the greate.t consternation
to Sincluir and Susan! At Sinclair's soli-
c.tation, a regiment of infantry was quarter-
ed in the same stieet with Sus.n’s resideuce,
end that Very night, Agaes was removed to
a place of safety, some miles from the ea-
cited ciiy. In vain she pleaded with her
eunt, aid remonst rated with Sinclair They

turaed a doa? oo to her voice, and she wag
°

 

THE SHIVER ror. 12

forcibly placed in the carriage, and drives
rapidly away. The hopes that had hitherte
sustained her, vanished, and she felt that
she was completely in the power of her
brutal persecutors. :

Sinclair now used the utmost diligence in
arranging for his removal. The town was
becomiug too hot for his hea'th, and as he
afterward remarked to the weeping Agnes
he was assailed on every -hand by the
“ taunis of men and ihe sneers and scorn @"
women!” He at length conipleted his ar
rangeinents, and he felta luid of fear res
moved from his heart, when fifty miles of
rugged forest-ro.d, lay between himeelf,
and the city he had left. ;

The reader is already acquainted with
his advent into the Gleamington setilems %
and his reception by his kindred spirits

Seer ean

SSS

i
 

 

 

THE SCOUT OF

 

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER X.

 

We left Agnes Sinclair, as, for the sake
of convenience, we shall call her, rejoicing
with Rachel Morris, over the timely escape
ot Augustus Fitzgerald. Although sorely
oppressed by woes of her own, yet she could
rejoice at the good fortune of others. Ever
since he had been acquainted with her his-
tory, and had ascertained the true character
of his guardian, Fitzgerald had been her
warm friend, 2nd so far as opportunity offer-
ed, her bold and unflinching advocate—
She could but reflect with gratitude, on his
timely and manly interference in the parlor,
when the brutal. Sinclair had offered her
personal violence, and after the arrival of
his pursuers, she greatly feared that the
time spent in defending her, aad caused
him to lose his own life. The news, there-
fore, that he had escaped, at least for the
present, greatly comforted her.

While the two females were yet exchan-
ging congratulations, the step of Sinclair
was heard in the hall, apparently approach-
ing the apartment of Mrs. Sinclair. Ra-

chel turned pale, and trembled violently, but
Agnes remained entirely unmoved. The
door, which had been left unlocked, present-
ly opened, and Sinclair, flushed with liquor,
and looking fatigued from his unhallowed
vigils, entered the apartment. Witha stern
voice lie ordered Rachel to leave the room,

as he had business o” 1mpo~tence to rane
act with his wife, wl ich permitted nc intra
der’s presence.

Rachel hesitated for a moment, as if un
willing to leave her frai] companion alone
with the brute, who had so far degraded
himself as to inflict blows upon Ler, but an
appealing look from Agnes attracted her a
tention, and she quitted the apartment, yet

-resolved to linger sufficiently near, so as to

hear the first offer of violence to her friend
So soon as the door closed upon her retiring
form, Sinciair drew from his pocket a paper
and after glancing his eye hurriedly over
its contents, he turned to his wife and ex
claimed—

“ By that touching and affecting epistle,
which you received from your paramour
through the agency of the viper, that has
been warmed and nourished by my own
breast, you were the possessor of a large
fortune in Englaud, which was proba-
bly the inducement, that led me to espouse
you. Whilst I deny this vulgar supposition,
I am under the necessity of informing you,
that, in consequence of your obstinacy, in
compelling me to leave my business at loose
ends, and remove to this place at greut ex-
pense, my pecuniary affairs have become —
perplexingly involved, and I wish you to
sign this paper, in order to relieve my em-
barrassment !”

“ You are satisfied of the fact then, that J

 
 

 

 

 

THE SILVER POND. 75

have money in England?” asked Agnes, as
a smile of hope lit up her wan features.

“Why, yes! that is, !suppose so; said
Sinelair, averting his eyes from the fixed
gaze of his victim. ‘

«Now, Sinclair!” cried Agnes, energeti-
cally, rising to a sitting posture, and gazing
athim earnestly. “Now hear me attentive-
ly. You say that you are convinced that I
have money in England. I ask not to know
ifthe sum be great or small; but be it more
or less, every penny; aye, every farthing
shall be yours, if you will release me from
this horrid durance, and let me go whither
{ please! You know that I never will, and
never can act toward you as ‘a wife, ‘and it
ig bat harrowing every moment with agony,
to persevere in the attempt. Itcan be no
manner of enjoyment to you, and it is death
to me' ‘Take the money and ‘release me,
and l/call upon my God, to witness’ the
promise that] make, never to reveal to live
mg mortal that the money went to you !”
«This was a tempting offer to Sinclair—
Although he affected ignorance of the’ for-
tune, he, as the reader is aware) well knew
that the amount of her money was euormous,
The visions of former. enjoyments, rose up
m tempting array before him, but a moment’s
reflection, aroused his pride. © What would
his old companions say, when ‘the humilia-
ting ta'e should reach them ; for‘reach them
e‘knew it would. He knew that the sink-
ing victim of his cupidity, whose eyes were
now so beseechingly upon him, would nev-
pr-reveal it ; but the sum so obtained, was
solemnly pledged to Susan, as her share of
the profits in the mock-matrimonial sheme-
He knew that he might-as wellarouse a fu-
ty, as to excite her ire, and he therefore
dreaded to accept the glittering: proposition.

“TI cannot accept your offer,’ he replied ;

“both my pride and my principles forbid

it. If your averson to me, which I com
ceive to be ill-founded, should continue, I
will, after the lapse of sufficient time ; ‘se
that ‘the affair ‘shall not appear so’ start-
ling, and cause so much scandal and false

‘=?

hood among the circles in which I move;

grant youa’ full and unconditional divoree *
In the meantime, the unpleasant bickerings
between’ us shall cease, and we shall leave
this valley, which I fear is about to be-
come the theatre of a bloody and extermina-
ting war, and return once more to the haunts
of civilized life !

Agnes pondered long upon ‘this offer.—
Ounce or twice she was:on the point of de«
manding the paper, but some strange ‘and
mysterious voice would whisper in her ear
“beware!” She had no manner of conf
dence in Sinclair, . His: whole life, so. far
as her knowledge of it extended, had been
one continued scene of’ lying and deceit!
Had he possessed. ‘the least’ principle, the
least human feeling, he would not have con
sented to’ play the contemptible game that
he had devised against her person and her
happiness. Now that she had been in’
formed that she was the possessor of a for-
tune, and that, too, from Edward Vernon,
she was most fully convinced that Sinclair
had been led-on solely with a view to pos
sess it. She therefore answered him with
as much caution as he himself had used.

“So be it then. When [ have obtained
my divorce, although I do not acknowledge
the existence of a marriage contract be-
tween us, I piedge you my word to sign the
paper that you request me to.”

Sinclair was thunderstruck at this adroit
evasion of the trap he had so artfully laid
for his victim. He had. narrowly watched
her.countenance during: the time ‘she waa
reflecting upon his proposition, and he: im
agined that she would accept his offer that

 

ye

 

.

Se pe

se renege
te aa ee ee ee
  

 

 

 

 

a ‘

the, bait would take.

out concealing his chagrin, he asked:
“am I to,understand, that. you will not

Hewas. sorely vexed,

sign this paper, until, such time as the di+
vorce is obtained r”
“Certainly!” reolied, Agnes... You, of
course do, not. require terms that, you, are,
not. willing to grant yourself... I repeut that
you haye,no, ground of, complaint, with, my,
The rel-

ative of General, Gage, and, the! possessoy,

offer if you.are.sincere in yours.

of princely estates in England, such,as.my,
veracious aunt has always described yours
tobe, cannot surely be distressed, for so
emall,a sumas i may.be. possessed, of;,,at
least for a few months!!” :

This irony cut; Sinclair to, the quick. He
was getting most unmercifully pelted. with
weapons that he had voluntarily furnished,
For:some time he. was entirely at a loss| for
areply to. this; cutting rejoinder, but be-
coming desperate, he stammered:

“It is true, madam, that I possess, estates

- in England,.and J. may.say without, vanity,
that they are prince'y; yet you must) recol-
lect that these are’ precarious times in which
o make remittances across the water. - Be-
sides, all business at home is. entirely..de+
deranged; in consequence of) this, uaholy
and unjus. rebellion. Princely, estates, in

England, therefore, may not, help my: pre-

bent necessities.”

“Mery true, indeed!” replied Agnes, in
she same cold sarcastic tone. “ Viery true,

mdeed ! and ‘my money being also in Eng-

1and, would of cvarse be affected the same

Lad-

mite your foresight, Mr. Sinclair, and agree

‘with you that 1 would not be safe to: move

way, by the same circumstances!

sin these uncertain and stormy. times.”
Again» had» Mr, Sinclair. barred up: his

own. progress.’ He felt. most keenly the

flimsiness of his’ own prevarication, ard

THE SCOUT. OR

saw, that the individual he had so long 88

deavored, tu-deceive, regarded him 10. hig

true. light—a, beggar anda bankrupt, and
a hypoerite at that! He resolved, how-,
ever, wita the desperation of effrontery, ta
make one more. appeal. before he threw, off
the mask entirely, and displayed to hia
victim the instruments of torture. :

“T perceive, madam,’ he said, “ that you
are inclined to rejoice at my misfortunes,
Lain sorry, to. witness this, because of the
relations existing between. us, aud, because
fT have involved myself in seeking to minis-
ter to your, comfort, and in providing fur
your safety, The most unfeeling would at
least .commiserate with me in my calami-
ties. Your, fortune, is differently situated
from mine. It is in ready money, and

might easily be transterred in_ satety,, by

means. of some of his Majesty’s transports, ,

which are now employed in bringing troops
to this iwod of rebellion and ingratitude,
Your, compliance. with my request would
would. greatly, facilitate that freedom for
which you so ardently long. Again I ask
your consent, and request.you to sign this
paper.”

“Aud again, Mr.. Sinclair, 1 refuse ta
sign it, until, you/have, complied with my
terms! Attribute my conduct to. whatever
motives. you ,please, but you will find me
resolute in, my; determmation. ‘The ex-
penses,you have incurred on my account
you, have incurred against. my. will, and
against, my consent.. ‘They have been the
source of grief,and annoyance. to me, and
of no benefit.to yourself, Faxther parley am
regard to this matter is useless, and | pray
you would drop the subject.”

“Woman !” exclaimed Sinclar. “trem
bling with suppressed passion, “I'am not te

 

-.

 

 
 

 

 

your unien with me is ‘iy owniand Tswear’
by the God that made us, ‘thé slow aidvag-
onizing death of 'the® torture shall “be an!
elysium, beside the torments you shall suf-
fer if you refuse to comply with my just
I give you one week
If within that

and lawfu. demands.
from this day to choose.
tine you consent to sign this document, 1t is
well; if you reftise so to do, Il warn you
ygain to beware!’

“Commence your work, fiend! I have al-
eady chdsen!” replied Agnes, unterrified
t his denunciation.

Sinclair did not reply, but with a look of
yitter hate, and undying hatred left the
‘oom. Agnes threw herself back upon the

bed, and did not for a moment perceive that
Rachei Morris had slipped into the room.
She soon felt the soft pressure of her hand
upon her brow, and requesting her to be
seated by the bed-side, she informed her
of all that had passed between her un-
uncle and herself, during ther somewhat
protracted interview. ,

Rachel highly commended the’ fortitude
of her aunt, as she continued to call Agnes,
and advised her by all means to adhere to
her determination, She endeavored to com-
fort ier with the assurance that something
would happen during the interval allowed
her, that would prevent the execution of a
gingle threat. Although the suffering Ag-
nes could rot bring herself to believe in the

possibility of any such fortune for her, yet

the artless and sanguine anticipations of
her comrade, drew her mimd from gloomy
econtem) lations e

Sinclair retired to his room after the ter
mination of his interview with his wife, and
mentally cursed the hour when he had con-

sented to engage in his iniquitous plot with

regard to Agnes. It had as yet produced

eothing bi a plentiful cross of perplexities
& } per;

THE SILVER POND 7

and) disappointments; and the rebellion had
nowvarrived at that ‘height, when a retro-
gade*could not:be'taken by ‘either: party. —
The finalsuccess of his ‘schemé in fact,
was involved in great doubt, and he almost
wished that he had permitted the heiress
and Miss Susan to have remained in obscu-
rity. He resolved, however, to act with
promptness, and boldly, now that he has
commenced, and to carry out the threat
made to his victim, to the very letter.

He sought the kitchen, after an hour’s re
flection, and partaking of some refreshment
he once more sought the “ Mounted Mon
arch,” and the society of Gersham Moree
and his Tory confederates,

A feeling of dread had taken possession
of Sinclair's breast, since the departure of
Fitzgerald, and’ most bitterly was that
event deplored by him. He knew the vold
and daring spirit of the youth, and he knew
also that he was in communication with his
hated rival, Edward Vernon. The deatho
the two Tones had also convinced hin that.
the young man’s whiggery was not the boy-
That

he would make the best of his way to Ver-

ish passion he had supposed it to he.

non, he had not a doubt, and then he would
also inform of the scene in the parlor, he
was likewise certain, Then came the re-
membrance of the attempted abduction in
Boston. Would not Vernon, now that he
had an accomplished pilot, ana a boon com-
panion, collect around him another squad of
the rebels, and again make the attempt te
carry off his wife, and that, too, with better
prospect of success than he could have
hoped for in Boston ?

Those reflections troubled the plotter se-
riously. Actuated by-these fears, which
dimly presented themselves on the morning _
of Fitagerald’s departure, he had offered

the reward of an hundred pounds for hie

 

 
   
 
  

% THE SCOUT OF

 

apprehensie., The eearcn had: proved un-. with his fellow ‘Lories, the uae green omen,
availing, anda part of ‘his object: now, in of .which, was te.be the , protection. of
visiting ‘the “Mounted Monarch,” was to his domie+l fram the, encroach nents of tho |
form! an alliance “ offensive and defensive,” fer

 

 

 
 

 

THE SILVER PONL be]

CHAPTER #8

CHAPTER XI

2

 

®ampscn Combat soon prepared ‘a dinner,
and Fitzgerald felt, as its fragrant odors as-
ended his nostrils, that an epicure mnght
envy his good fortune. A haunch' of luci-
ous venison graced the centre of the table,
flanked on each side by a dish of most
terapting trout, which, but a short time be-
fore, were sporting in the .iquid waves of
the “Silver Pond.” Bread of the mest
snowy whiteness, which justice compels us
to say, was the handiwork of the justly sele-
brated Mrs. Williams, the landlady at War-
land, and butter of a golden hue, from the
airy of the same excellent woman, were to
é found in their proper places, as was also
a dish of potatoes, smoking from the ashes,
Fitzgerald’s appetite had been sharpened by
his clambering journey, and as ceremony
was out of the question in that bachelor
abode, he fell to eating like a famished bear.
Both Sampson and Vernon did ample jus-
tice to the rich repast, and after the meal
was over, the table presented but ‘a‘slim and

starved appearance. Pives were soon after
lighted and Vernon and Fitzgerald desvend-

 

ed from the fortress to stroll along the shores
of the lake, whilst Sampson remained be-
hind to arrange the dishes and tlie kiteher,

The young men gained a cool and shady
seat, when they recl.ned upon odorous forest
grass, and Vernon, for the first time since
they had met, ventured to inquire of ‘her
whose happiness and comfort was nearest to
his heart. Knowing the strength and fury
of Vernon’s passions, when they were fully
aroused, for the young men ‘had been inti-
mate in Boston ; Fitzgerald hesitated'about
reciting the scene in the par'or, but’ scorn-
ing to deceive his friend, who had freely
periled his jife in his behalf, he resolved at
length, to inferm him of every fact and ‘cir-
cumstance.

He told Vernon of his misfortune in re-
gard to the letter, and how it came in Sin-
clair’s possession, and then coolly’ related
the brutal conduct of his guardian in the
parlor. He modestly mentioned his own
interference, and the termination of the
scuffle, on the appearance of Rachel Mor-
ris, with the intelligence that the Toriea
were approaching, resolved to take his life,
He took care alsoto state, that Agnes wae

 
 

oat of the reach of her perseeutor when he
left; as he had locked him. securely in the
room, whilst his wife departed with Rachel
Morris. ;

It would be difficul: to describe the w: rkings
of Vernon’s countenance, whilst the narra-
tive pro:eeded, An unearthly light gleam-
ed in his dark eyes, showing thet his soul
was fully aroused, erd et times he gresped
the long hunting knife at his side, as if
Sinclair's heart had been bared, to receive
its glittering edge. When Fitzgerald ceas-
ed sp aking, he rose quick'y u, on his feet,
and swore with a solemn oat, that every
buffet thai Sincluir had be-towed upon the
delicate cheek of Agnes Glenwood, should
bereturned.by steel, an hundred, fold, .

or-some.time. Vernon paced the shore of
the lake.in front of his comrade, too highly
excited. to conveise. . The perspiration
bursting from every pore, sireamed down his
face, and) bythe convulsive, ‘twiiching. of
‘his mouth, and his Jabored respiration, his
companion coull plainly see, that it was
with difficulty he cotld restrain hiwse:f from
bursting mto tears.  Pitzgeraid felt deep.y
for the mental sufferings: of his friend, yet
he felt how utterly futile all attempts.at,con-
He

olation; from language; would prove,

therefore satin silence until,the,.paroxysm .

should exhaust itself,

‘At length Vernon became more compos-
ed, and resumed his seat. He did not speak,
butiseemed tobe‘ intenily engaged. with
those communings of the heart, too anighty
‘and full ‘for® utterance. He» was,aroused
from his reverie by theishrill blast o°a bugle;
and barely saying to his:friend, “that means
me,’he arose wnd walked toward ,his: for-
is
~ Fitzgera.d fo..owed him, and-when. they
reached the entrance in «the rock, he.dis-
sow: red Sampssa sitting some distance off

   

THE SCOUT. OF

  

with a stranger dressed in aniform by hie
side. Vernon approached the stranger
quickly, and extending lis hand exclaimed
in his usual tone—

“How goes the baitle, Captain Searle
and what news do you bring from Stark ?”

“Goed news!” exclaimed the Captain
“ The militia are prompt iz returning to tha
field again, ahd our affairs eppear brighter
ing below. The Long Isiand defeat waa
not so bad as was autic: pated, and many gu
s. far ss to say, that driving Washington
from New York, will prove the sa'vation of
the cause, and of h’s army’

“That is bett r than we expecied !” ex-

6c FEM

claimed Vernon gaily. “The defext very

much discouraged our friends this way.”

*“T have come froin Stark ;”

said the Cap-
tain, “to request your attendance onthe
lake. shore,.at the ol! rendezvous, near, the
eove. The old chap }as an expedition in
view, that,he thinks will be of great benefit
to the cause. . He will meet, you here, the
day after:to-morrow. My business, is some-
what urgent, and I will take your, answer
and depart.” :
” replied Ver-
non; “but you.surely will not leave without

“ Of course I’]l meet. him;

tasting of our fare.”

‘Many thanks ;”
rising ; “Tommy; Williams, who ,is out in
the bushes across the pond, has rendered
your.,offer superfluous. Ie has. not ont
fed:me, but has most liberally administered
to my thirst, and acte! as my pilot to your
retreat.” _

The Captain depar «i with Sampson, and
in.a:short: time they, were half way across
the lake, in the little boat, that had ferried
Fitzgerald to the secluded spot. After, ther
iad. departed, Vernon turne¢ te hie eqm
panion.and said, .

“ Your arrival, here is most opportune, A

returned the Catan

   

 
 

 

 

wa
THE SILVER PON D. i

rity

caust an Stark, for ks gi eatly dedi to see, ly; affected than Pear, had previo f faa
him, in,zelation, to, different, exhibition, An expression of, demoniac rage, , absolutely
from, the one he has on. foot. Sampson i, startling, convulsed his features, pad hig
determined to,start for Boston toxmorrow,, frame shook like, ,an aspen, on pent, Up
for what purpose loolandt ascertains If “you, passion. Both) Vernon and his young com.
had.not have attived,, the, little , fortress panion were. greatly surprised at, this exhie,
would have been, deserted, a state of affairs bition of feeling i in the old man, who was a
that I could hardly submit to.,, Messengers stranger. inthe land, and as they both sup.
arrive, here almost dai'y, and, talons they.con-,, posed, to its people, After his rage had i in,
fer with, me,/or some. one , in, my, secretsy.ity a, great, measure § subsided, the old, tan burst
disarranges the plans, of our: partisans, in. this, into tears, and as. if ashamed cof hie, weake
region, pe will chron‘cle.. all messages that, ness, hastily. ayoges and, left the cabin, The
ye! to be delivered, and you can guard, thes young, men, satin silence, for some time after
oid eqbin from surprise,” me his departure, at.a, loss to, -aggount. | for. this
‘Fitzgerald, readily. assented, to. this \ar-, singular, exhibition of both rage and eolcn
rangement, and Vernon instructed him, iy MESS. oo ey)
the. signals , which would be given, onthe, . ¢ That, old, maa,” said eee breakita
rock from y which themselves had embarked,,. the silence... “is one of, the. most eccentric
when , they. arrived from, Warland, , Others, men I, ever knew, Sade as I have hinted, to,
were-to be regarded. as spurious, and were, you: ‘before, cannot ‘help thinking him, other.
9 receive no notice. Vernon then entered, than, che seems. to be, Our association isa
his little fortress, and Seating himself at the, little romance of itself, and sometime, when,
rough little table, he, wrote ont the different, opportunity offers, I will give you, the par-,
mgspages, that might, possibly be called, for ticulars of it, «Since our first, meeting in the
dyring his qbsomce.. The stores of ammy-, Prison.at Boston, he has followed my foot.
nition, were also. carefully, shown hirn, and, steps, as though he. were my,slave. I, me)
Vernon presented hin. with a rifle, every, ata loss to ex@lain the cause,of this sudden
way Superior to the one he, lost, in the affray , exhibition, of feelings? <7). 4.4)
with the. Tori 's, with which he gould amuse .Rurther conversation... was sorvenda ‘s
himself j in the pursuit of game, which was the, entrayce. of .Sampson,) whose features.
abundant in the ‘surrounding forest. |. meat “bore ithe traces,of asevere mental struggle,
These . arrangements, were, “detailed, to, He immediately sets: aout making. prepara...
SSmaDEON | on, his, return , with the boat, and. _ tions for. aight, repast, after which, all would
he. ip. his tar, inducted the young Scout, bp. busily ApeageS, in making she axxanges,
mto the mysteries of the, larder, These im-, ments, for, departure on, othe, early; dawn,
portant, points attended to, the, i ttio, entered, After supper.e. supply of small.arms for, the,
into a righ, conversation, aduring, 3 whieh, tg j Journeyers, and -asmall parcel of pravis)
Sampson was,informed, of) all the, transag;, sions,for each, were duly prepared,:and soon,
tions at Gleamington,,after the departure of, after the sun descended in the: west, the j in
Woaiicec nc Peaidies ol ace “itnov) Mates of the little fortress gqught repoge: .
When, mention was.made, of, the rata As the fist grey, streak ofthe dawn ap
treatment, of Singlais’s wife, by the monster, peayed in, the east, Fitzgerald was aroused
husband, the old man was even more strong- by Sampson. Vernon had ‘already departed

'

 

wintertime nen abn ae otn

;
{
;
;
}

 
  
 

 

   
 

 

and the old man, accoutred for his pe
was waiting to ‘be set‘actoss the pond. In’
a few moments Fitzgerald drew on his
clothes, aad descended froin’ ‘his eyti¢, he’
seated himself in the boat, dnd soon after
nis companion leaped’ upon tle Tock, ‘when, |
turning to the young man, Ke said—
“Farewell! keep a sharp ‘Jook out for
signala, and: névet Surrefider ‘the fortress!
When I come back, I shall’ bring a Compa~!

mon, If any ‘thing befalls’ me, that’ f ever

return, God will rew. yard you for your syinpa=’
thy with the wronged and’ distressed? °°
The old ran’ waived His ‘hand’ politely,
and with an aétivity remarkable for one of
nis years, he dashed ‘into’ the ‘forest. Fitz-
gerald sat for some time, and mused upon’
the meaniig of Sam; ‘son’ Tast ‘words :—
“ God will reward you for your sympathy ’
with the wronged and distressed ;” “but ‘he"
could not divine his meaning, and apringing |
to his oars, he hastily recrossed the pond,
and ascending to ‘his quartets, pevbared to
break his fast °'
- Fitzgerald felt soinewhat lonely’ amidst’
the almost unbroken stillness of his position, |
and for a few hotirs after’ the departure of
his comrades, Ke could not help a feeling’ of

despondency, that all his exertions’ could”

not shake Of “Almést’ unconsciously’ his

mind would wahdet téithe sceties of Gleani-’
ungton, which’ Had" ‘passed before’ hit so!

rapidly, as'almost 0 indtice ‘thé’ conviction
that they were But'a succéssion of troubled
dream. ” His own bruised, and yet stiffened
fraine, however; hardly corrdboratéd sucha’
belief, The’ marks of the strife “Were upon
him, and | the‘shout ‘of his pursuers, | yét
rang in his ears,°""What would be the’tor’
mination of Kis patticipation in the row with
the Tories he cduild not well see, yet hé felt’
convincéd, that ‘for Weal of Woe, his fite was
ur'ted inseparably wi a the five ‘er the ‘Ree

Gi

m THE SCOUT i

valution, Toa young and inexperienced
mind, these were most solemfi reflections,
and afforded any other than flattery prow.
pécta for the fi attire ; “for the ‘Coldhists werd!
weak and unprepire, and their enemies
rich‘and powerfal.’

“His thoughts “also reverted’ to Riche”
Morris, andthe shrinkihg and unprotected
Agnes Sinclair.” At times he blamed hit-
self for leaving ‘thiit wretched woman’ exe
’ posed ‘to’ the rage’ of her tyrant,’ but he again’
réflectéd,' that’ if he remained, ‘he would

‘ would doubtléss ‘have been executed bythe
‘ Tories, atid sé would alain bé left “equally

defenceless Feeling ‘that ‘such thoughta
wee’ not profitable, tind tended to weaker,
his resolution; rather than steéiigthen them,’
he tésolved to seek Pécreition in’His rod”
and ‘lite. “He therefore’ preparéd® himself!
for @ fishing excursidti, and after edining the’
desired ground, the exciting nature of tne
sport, soon banished all gloomy feeling,
and his mind ‘soon regained ‘that joyous

” elasticity, so natural to youth”

‘For three ‘days he‘ livedin’ solitnde, ‘and
aiused’ the weary hours as “best he eduld,
with his tiflé, and fishing. ‘The woods"
abounded in game, of the choicest kinds, aa
the excellence of his larder attested, and na-
turé offered ‘to him. a thousand pleasures for
every sense,” fet” him’ stroll through ‘the
forest in whatever diréction he pleas-d. On
thé morning of the fourth day ‘from thé de.
parture of his friends, he discovered the'sig-
nal at the ‘Hock, ‘whilst sitting ‘at one of ‘the
enibrdstires opening ‘apdi the lake; hast!”
ly’ descending from the cabin, he loosed the’
skiff, and swiftly madé for” thé: point, ‘res

toiced at the’ evidericé'thus' afforded “him, '
that'd Hdthian being Was hear!) 1 oO

Greatly was he rejoiced on nearing the
roeW;'to find thatthe: signal proceeded from
the Stout ‘hihiself "Not ‘did’ Vernon tippear

UTC Tt

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

THE SILVER POND. ; 8&8

ees rejoiced, at again approaching his attack upon the cursed Tory nes: at Gleam
sylvan home; for with an.exclamation of ington!” ;

delight, he sprang into the little boat, when © “ Have you resolved then, to attack
it was yet several’ feet from the rock, shak- Gleamington ?” asked Fitzgerald, as a shade
mg it with aviolence that threatened it with passed over his countenance.

annihilation, grasping his friend warmly by, _ “ Aye, I have determined to attack Gleam-
-he: hand, ; Fitzgerald, perceived, that his ington! You did not suppose that our peo-
friend ‘was joyously elated, but whether ple would quietly submit tobe driven from
from the influence of good news, or the po- their farms, atid see’ their homes’ burned
tent elixirs of Tommy Williams, hé was not their cattle stolen, and their crops destroyed,
particularly certain. did you?”

After their congratulations had been, ex-, _ Most. certainly not. I supposed they
charged, and they had seated: themselves’ would: naturally seek» for revenge, and I
for their little voyage, Fitzgreald ventured’ kniew'that they depended ‘upon your man-
to ask his friend the cause of his happiness, agement, for the success of the enterprize
but witha merry twinkle of his eye, and an, yet I did not suppose that you would plan
elongation of visage hard to maintain, Ver , an attack just yet..J thought you had other
non only answered, places in view;”

“Not now Fitz; Ican’t talk now, ’mtoo “TI had, at’ the time the fugitives came to
full. “Wait until 1» have breakfasted, and Warland. I then supposed the matter must
composed my nerves with a good pipe or be deferred of necessity, and told the peo-
two. In the meantime I will simply state ple: so. | Circumstances you know alter. sud-
that I have glorious news?) ' denly. : The circumstances are such at the

The little skiff soon, landed its freight, present time, that | can better head an ex-
and was securely placed within its covert, pedition that’ way now, than {can at any
and then the friends ascended to the cabin, time hereafter, and that Llong to do it,I
when Fitzgarald, who had become ‘almost. need not tell you” oat
as expert as Sampson, in such matters, set” No, but I thought, that perhaps you—
about preparing. his  friend’s, breakfast, but you know’ best of cviirse.” I submit to
whilst he was divesting himself of his wea- your concliisions.”
pons, and in other ways arranging his dress, « No, out with it,” replied Vernon. Say
After he had breakfasted, the pipes were what you think. Your opinions may be
produced, and Fitzgerald seated himself by . valuable.”
an embrasure, and with great interest await-| J’ was merely ‘about to’ remark,” an:

ed, the unfolding of his ae budget: of » swered Fitzgerald, slightly coloring under:

news! the fixed gaze of his comrade, “that you.
uy don’t know but I stall disappoint” might probably, wish. to..remove. some that’

you;” said Vernon, rolling from his mouth. are there, beyond the reach of harm, before
a huge volume of the fragrant smoke ; but you sought to attack the Tories .'Phere
for my part I am over) “ill of joy at our are some'friends of the people’ there yet, I
prospects. Stark cannot only ‘get along suppose you know ?”

without my assistance, but has generously | “T have reflected "pen that long | and
spared me a. company of recruits for my. well,” replied Vernon “ They, of couree,
 

  

8

| itist ‘not 'be® Subjected’'td daiagér: "TY shall
lead the attacking pa.:y to the othérex-
tremity of the viliage,<nd, whilst the:aétion
ig caging there, Sampson, myself and you,
if you choose, will visit their dwelling and
take thern to a'place of safety in the forest.”

“Why not take them away* before’ the
expedition’ starts) All’ danger‘#ould: thus
ve avoided:, For my: part, [most Main be-
lieve that.Sinclair would himself plage,the
knife at their. throats, rather than they
should fall into our possession. He is ae
eed Py

“1 have thought of all that, too ; but the
en easons»you have: just mow advancedy
as the reasons why | we,should: do, s0,,are!
the very reasons that have, induced. me
not to do so. It would be bringing the
danger we'séék to avert from them, direct--
ly upd them.’ We could” hot’ expect’ to

spirit them away in such a mannervasenot) -

to, be, ,detected,,. Sinclair's ..friends would
rally, and we should be compelled to fight
them. ‘Thus, you see, the females would
bé Betwixt two fires. Beside that, if Sin-
clair should’fear the: result) he!would ‘Hini-4
self, become: theiromurderer;‘asyou have!
hinted,”

“Thad not thought. 80 “fi ary, 1 confese,” :
said Fitzgerald, startled at the plain view.
of the’casé. “Your plan is the only feasi-
ble one. On farther reflection, T must siy,
that. I, cannot sees any danger from it.—
Won't, the ;wolf..growl, though, when, hed
finds his prey 1s gone. It, will be worth, a
month of pain and erile, to. witness his ra-—
vitigs |” Me

“Wee Piet! hin “tive !™ Said ‘Vernon,
through his closed teeth. “ My time'is comes"
and, ['shall have the satisfaction, of»meeting
the contemptible knaye; face.to face; qyithe
sut the interference of his, cousin’s regi.
nents ‘ét ruffians to back up his insolence.”

“P{ave" you” determined on’ the ‘time for’
the tindertaking >” enquired Fitzzerala:

*¥@s, dnval week from this! dayy*the)
troops from, Stark are to! be at: Warland pre<
pared for the business. In themeantime, I.
must arouse ,the Glearaington Whigs, now

village; see to -heir arms, and: coun-
eel “thei aboitt the obi” to attic, and”

, aequaintanc ee‘ swith’! Sinclair,

 

“pit SCOUT OF

séine ‘other’ Yattérs' that we must have By
heait;*/ befo:e we’ set! oat: Sampson will
return before that time,jand |.can makeé him
acquainted with my, plaus before we are
ready to march,” $ :

“By the way,” interposed Fitzgerafd,
“you promised’ to give me the history of”
your eonnection with’ Mi Combat/!and T
now hold you td your bwin Lam anxi
ous to know more jof the man,”

“ Well,” replied .his, friend, “ we, shalt
not probably obtain a better opportunity.
After to-day, we shall be busily employed,
and mi6st of our time will be sp pt in the
villages: The arrangements for) «ar enter’
prise must be,.thorough and -complete,,.and
nothing must be left to chance. . The To-
ries will far outnumber us, do the best we
cin, but for that T do not fear. ‘The bat-
£6 is not'dlways to ‘thé strong’
“The first time I saw: Sampson was im’
my ‘prison at: Bostony where: li was: placed,']
suppose, by the kindness and, consideration”
of Mr. Joseph Singlair...What, kind of are.
gument he used with my jailor, in order to.
obtain admittance, Iam unable to say, yet
I always thought it  wasa gold n one.—

| After being admitted tothe wretched room
’. Loveupied; he\inquired./if my: namenwas

, Vernon,.and, if I knew, Agnes, Glenwoods...
I replied in the affirmative, and as if he had
been my most intimate friend and ac-
quaintance, he inquired’ particularly about.
hér foittij her’ fedtiires; her Yeducation ait’
accomplishménts.: | After *1y had: answered
his..questions,. though, not..without,, being,
surprised at his inquiries, he asked me.
concerning her aunt: the length of time
she had been in the country, her fortune, "
her pélitics; ‘atid the commencement ‘of her”
[' answered:
all these interrogatories to the best of my»
abilities, when he opened the folds of his
coat, and presented me with a letter from

Agnes; “which he requested me to réad ©

aloaid” 970

41 wassomewhat: out of humor at\ thia'
ancourteous request, but yet) ‘A coulds.noty
refuse him. After, { had finished, the let.
ter, “he informed mn that a Project wag o
foot’ ainongst the liberty’ bovs, for my

 

 

 

 

 
 

,

THE SILVER POND 85

itheration, and hie Fp neolee that “he would’

probably participate in it. T'asked Kim’ if? thatT did’not fefase’his society.” With'the’

he knew Agnes or her aunt, and to both of”
the quéstions, he answered, yes.’ T dskéed
him also if Agnes gave him the letter, ‘and’
: hé replied i in the negative. “When hé arose |
to leave mé, he offered me a pursé, which t

" refusell to accept. Al my éfforts to ascer-'

tain the object of his visit; proved unavail-
ing, “He told me that he was lately from
Enyland, and that was all the satisfaction
I could obtain.”

release, he” was the first ht to enter my"
room’ and with his own hands, he Knockéd”

off the’ fetters that held me to thé floor”

He'thén seized me by the atm) ald Yed'ine
- through the crowd in the street, to a par
row and secluded alley. Here we entered
a ‘house of mean exterior, but most sumptu-
otisly furnished within. During the'timé‘T’
was obliged to remain concealed, I was at
this house, in the enjoyment ofe ‘every ‘Tuxu-
ry that kindness coutd devise. Tx the at-
tack upon “Susan’s house, Sempson * was
with me, and more than one of the greaa-
diers who ‘assailed us, could testify” to his
superior swordmanship, if they. felt dis-
_ posed to tell the truth. We were driven“
back, as you know, and none regretted ‘the
circumstance mor® than Sampson.”

“J lost sight of Sampson | ina few ‘days :

after this affair, for I did not return to my,

rejoice, and’ so has the cause of my eountty

tdcti¢s and usazés Of the’ British’ Army; he
is perfectly conversant, and the knowledgé
he possesses of their discipline, and manner
of ‘Gpersting. has frequently been the means
of ¢ giving to our Weak and undisciplined Te
vies, the ddvantagé and the victory.”
vp have heen led to believe that he has”
been} in the British service. As'T have told
you ‘hefore, he affects ignorance and’ eceén=
t icities,. bat I have reason to believe tha”
they are ‘only affected. He has madé seve”
ral j Journeys td’ Boston since we have revi-
ded at'the Pond, and I sometimes think, he
may have \guifuatntatieed there; yet he ney-’
er mentions the name of any individual, un
“188, ‘indeed, it'be Gage} or Miss Susan, or
some oné known to'me. “Siuce hé has cone”

‘ témplated this present visit, I have noticed”

that a Kind OF iineasinéss has agiated his
mind, and he ‘also requested permission of “
me to bring back'a Companion, Who, he said

“Twould' be ‘rejdiedat to see’ “As T have't

“ utnidst confidence t inthis principles and judg”

ment) Ihave cheerfilly réblied’ with his re“
‘queét, and tifné will inform us, who his eon”

* panibn will bé. ’ ‘Suéh ‘is’ the history of the’
“ conmédtion of this singular man’ with me;
“and such is all the information T have beew
“alt Obiaih respecting’ him.” a

*Te ia’ strange,” ‘retarked’ Fitzgeratd
« that "Re 'shald'be any thing but'a on

place of concealment. T came’ this way on ‘if,as you think, hé has Bee eoRAdetH
& scout, and discovered this pond,’ ana being “thé rep ular army.” ‘Tts" meinbers are “gener
in'a Bloomy frame of tind, T ‘resolved ‘to. ‘ally loyalista”!” | ,

 

 

make it my abode- With the Assistance of Atrier Whig than Snipsen Helga
Tommy Williams, and a few éhdi¢e spi ‘rita’ Vernon ; “is not in the edlonies, and what”
I made my little cabin’ in tHe’ rock, and ¥e-'"makes the matter more strange, he is ex-
turfiéd to Boston: F thei” entered ‘irito the: sceedingly well informed about our matters
setvice 6f thé Comitittee of Safety; anda? Yof grievance, a not very common circum
suined the business ofa scout! ‘Sine thet stance, for those who shave :nesided in Eng-
I have been ‘the -menris’ of” conitinieation “land, for two years past.”
between Boston atid'Abhiny,” atid thé airy” © Barly inthe 'morninrafter'this discoursé,
orf burr northe}n frontiers.” 0! 5 ‘Vernor and FitZgorhld:réptired to! Warland *
“On' mv iourney here; Wwhiche DT aisawa? ‘and withic the: assistance: of! Tomniy Wilsi
leistirely; I was’ overtaken by Sartipéon, and Jiaths/thé? Whigs! of ‘the little: scttlomént)
he madé known to ine his detétinmnation: of” ‘were Collééted:together, and the plan for thes:
residing with me. He had proved so trué” redadtion of the:Tories'of Gleamington;wam.
a friend; and’ manifested) sb within inter laidBafote them. ‘All were: exer ‘for the!
ect'in my Wwélfire, that'T fotind it tinpbdsible® Fray, ahd aring:and ammunition: were eof

to reflise' him, an} have'had inticl cause to leoted' and dhevrtion <Ayilled: inte somethings) ~

‘oa
e

 
  

 

  

 

% o THE SCOUT, OF.

resembling discipline... Every day,andeve-, retribytion., Sinclair. pian, therefore, was
ning, the plen of, attack was rehearsed to, eagerly, accepted, and a list. was forthwith
them, and before the expected arrival of the, made out, containing the name. of every
reinforcement from Stark, Vernon decided. male resident of the settlement, able to bear
that every thing was in readiness for the un-, arms. ,
dertaking., It was also.resolved that arms ammunition
During all these, arrangements, ‘although in abundance, should, be provided for every
anxiously expected, by both Vernon, and man, and that henceforward, six trusty sen-
Fitzgeralc, Sampson Combat did notrewirn. tinels, should stand. guard every night, whose
The, Scout was most grievously perplexed duty..it should be to,patrol the streets of the
at his unusual absence, and eventually a village, and onthe appearance of the foe.
fear took possession of his breast, that some- "or the’ occurrence of any reasonable sus
thing serious had befallen, his aged friend . picion that any such,were near, they should
The troeps trom Stark, atrived at, length, give prompt and ‘immediate alarm. A guard
according to promise, and with a heavy, was even selected for that very night, for
heart, Vernon gaye, orders for marching, the the more ‘they reflected upon their danger
following evening, the more threatening and cer.ain did it. ap-
. A more favorable night for the enterprise , pear to be.
could not have been selested.. There was. After, this arrangement, Sinelair returned
no moon, and a heavy curtain, of black , to his home, with his mind far more at ease
clouds obscured the star-light, rendering it, than ithad been, since the night of the fire
absolutely necessary for some of, the file and death. He sought his chamber not
jeaders of the little army to carry torches, deigning to inquire fort) ie health of his wife,
on the first stage of their route. They: left , or indeed, in any way , noticing the mem-
Warland at an easy pace, in order to. reach bers of his household. He was determined
the. doomed village, when_ its inhabitants ‘to awalt, in silence and inactivity, the ‘work-
should be wrapped in deepest slumber, Ac-. ing of his threatin regard to his wife, and
cordingly they did not, arrive at the little after her respite had expired, be governed
gorge in-the mountains surrounding the lit- by circumstances, The time to which she
tle valley until midnight. ‘ , was, limited, passed by ho wever, but Sinclair ’
Vernon and Fitzgerald, were at..the head: ‘made no, movement toward carrying his.
of the advancing, column: when the defile threats, into execntion.
was reached, and were the first to. enterthe., On the day set apart for the movement o1
pass. As they emerged beyond. the shadow. the expedition from Warland, the bar-room
of the rocks and bushes, a sight burst upon of the “ Mounted Monarch,” was made mer-
them, that caused them to start)as.if,the ry. by. the arrival of quite a band of armed’
mountains: around,-had fallen to tha plain Tories, who stated that they were on'the
_ apon which they. stood, Naa road to New York, to. join the conquering
»@tmy of Clinton, This, of course caused
great excitement, and, the Tories of the set-
tlement,. who were never loth to. visit, the
inn, stepped in, to.greet. their comrades,
CHAPTER ‘XII. ' ae drink, ito, the.success of the undertaking,
When Joseph Sinclair had reached;the The day, being,hotand sultry, the strangers
“ Mounted/Monarch,” and collected around /determined to wait until night-fall, before
him Frisbee, Doctor Bleed, and other of resuming, their, journey, as well to, avoid
the: Tories, he opened -his plans to them,.,in, the,,ebservation of the, Whigs, jas, they
regard: to “alliance”. To. state the truth said, as, to avoid the burning rays of the
none.of the worthies above enumerated, had..sun.,..; ,
' felt'iexactly,at, ease, with regard to? their,: It.s0 happened, thet t those whe were de-
pafety, since, the expulsion of the Whigs,.;tailed.on, this, particular day, to dathe. duty
for. they. were fearful ofa just and extensive of sentinels to the settlement, when nig

 

 
 

  

 

ane SILVER FOND

should come, were somewhat more than ore
ainarily addicted to the ctip. With’ “their
sravelling brethren, they ‘ weté sdon” on
téfins’ of thé’ strictest’ intimacy, and until
after the inhabitants were snug in bed, and’
many of them soundly snoring, they shidlg-
ed’‘in ‘deep and strong potatibiis.'
their travelling brethren’ proposed ‘to start,
u parting g class was'taken, the Gleamington
sentinels, having just enough of the powers
of ‘volition left, to place a bottle to’ their’
aiouths. ,

° Ag soon as their comrades departed, these
worthy guardians of asacred trust, lay down’
upon the ‘ground, and shortly after ‘gave,
trumpet-toned notice, that they were in’ the
land of dreams, An observer might’ ‘there

have seen, the figure of an old man, some-

what gray, yet quick ‘and sprightly i in very
movement, with arms of a remarkable féngth,
stealins on tip-toe amongst them, carefully

abstracting their guns and ammunition, and’

then leaving for a tong range “of low ‘Wil-
lows; that fringed the little creck, cone at
hand.

Sorietime before midnight, a bright, glar-
ing light flashed up from the eastern quar-
ter of the settlement, followed quickly by
another in the southern extremity. A strong’
red glare burst ii at the windows of the
sleeping inhabitants, arousing” them from"
their repose. * Svon after, one wild‘and fear-
fal voice, exerted’ to ‘its highest key, broke
tb? almost unnatural stillness, by the ‘ap-

palling cry of firet The mén rushed to |

When’

air, a wild and piercing yell, drowning the
roat’of the raging flames, and causing the
blood of the terrified Tories to stand still in
their veins. Again was that unearthly
shout repeated, and a quick roll of discharg~
ing. fire-arms followed it.

"Several of the Tories fell, and with terror
depicted upon’ their countenances, the re-
mainder, grasping their wives and children,
fled towards the hill-side. Immediately
upon their retreating footsteps, slowly and

_ solemnly emerging from the willows near

, the creek, caine Sampson Combat, and some
less manner, and bearing upon their brawny
breas s the most of the ConrinentaL Con-
eres !

‘Regardless of the crackling flames ana
shrieks’ of terror, with the steady and
méusured ‘tramp of drilled veterans, they
sheld their ‘way, directly toward the man
sion of Sinclair, which had escaped the
flames ‘as yet. The household had been
aldriied’by the roar and glare of the ‘con-
 flagration, atid were huddled together on
the ‘little’ verandah. Sinclair at length
espied the ‘approach of the co!umn, and feel- »
in¢ that escape’ was impossible, he drew a
pistol from his pocket, and stepped upon the
little lawn. Ina few moments after, he
stood face to'face with Sampsou Combat,
whilst allaround ‘were the ‘grim faces’ of
rmed mer. After a brief gaze at Sin
clair, Sampson said:

“Joseph Sinclair, although the punish”

their doors in consternatioui, whilst the* ment of death is justly due to your crimes,

wonien wrung’ their hands” in speechless
agony, or grasping their babes, with ner-
votlis anxiety shrieked fearfully, and rushed

- into the :Iiminated streets"? |
Hither and thitliet, the flames’ burst forth,
as if lighted’ by unseen devils.” As the’ ter-
rified” citizen stood’ gazing at the destrue-

tion Of his’ heighbor’s’ ‘tenement, his own i
~oof suddénly and mysteriously ignited, ard’

ge was forced to fly to avoid the fury ofthe
flames. Atuength the inhabitants made a
tally, and most of them congregated on the
little green in front of the “ Mounted Mon>,
arch,” from the windows, doors, and crevi-
oes of which smoke and flames were al-
ready issuing Then arose upoe the bnrid

‘yet if you return to me the person of Ag~
nes’ Gleenwood unsullied as you received
her from the hands of the she wolf that be-

‘trayed “her, yout life may be spared.—

‘Othérwise’ you die the death of a dog!”

“Who are you that 'so cavalierly de-
mands my wife ?” cried Sinclair, haughtily.
“Wretch!” exclaimed Sampson,’ “ dis-
grade not her fame by uttering a lie so
base {She is’ ot’ your wife, she néver
was your wife, and she would sooner be
the bride of death than acknowledge on¢
Jinejofpthe calumny. { repeat it, deliver
her up to me!”

“And who are you” again cried ~

clair.

 
   

 

THE SCOUT OF THE SILVER POND

 

 

‘sepa

“ei: xD “Gi. ENwoop! her ‘father and. they directed thes course thitherwarg ‘Ad,
protector. ‘He whom you and the now. , arrived just in time. to hear. ithe, annuneia....
fangless hyena with whom you plotted to tion of their friend, that he. was the fathes,
ruin my daughter, supposed was decaying of Agnes: Glenwood!

‘i ‘the jungles of India!” | a Sinclair never..arose. from the spot, on,

“ And.I,” exclaimed a voice, hoarse with which,he had) fallen. In his rage at find

passion, ‘breaking through, the circle of, ing himself. baffled, after. he had so. Jong:
armed men, “am Edward Vernon, the played a desperate game, and feeling, con-
Scour .OF THE SILVER Powo | with me,. fident of the,scorn and detestation, of, the
robber, your account shall be ‘settled — whole world, he drew ;a dagger from, his,
~ Draw and defend yourself ae leon elon POSOM, and unperceived in the flickering,, |
‘With a ‘faint moan, Sinclair. fell upon. light of; the, vantage ation, he:plunged itete
the ground ‘A sinile curled the haughty . his heart,
lips of the scout, as he gazed a moment . _The Tories were completely routed from.
upon his pallid features, but in'a_ moment , the, valley. of, Gleamington. The Whigs
he spring to the verandah, and thrusting _ who had been driven, to “Warland returned
aside the trembling domestics, he stood in to, heir homes, and they were joined by. . }
the hall. There, stretched upon, a rude many, of the party who had accompanied
settee, lay the form:.of Agnes, Glenwood, Glenwood from Boston, The chosen Vand,
whilst the gaceful, figure of Rachel Morris, that accompanied him, to the destruction, of.
was bending over, her applying , the usual .Gleamington, were most of them, the « liber- i
restoratives. On_ hearing. from, his own ty boys,” whose former leader they bad. dis- }
lips, that her own, father, whom she, sup- covered in the“ Scout of the Silver Pond. ”
posed for so long; a time,.to, be, dead, Was | A loud and prolonged cheer announced the,
on the lawn with, a sufficient force, to Tes- Satisfaction with which they "SOSA
cue her from confinement, she had, fainted, . their old Ie; der, rH
and. had been. borne by, Rachel, to,.the,, Some three weeks after the events above...
halk, .,. ee ee nairated occurred, there was a jolly, com
As Vernon, reached er side, she, awoke (pany assembled, at the mansion formerly.
to consciqusness, and gazing in his fee, as “occupied by, Sinclair, There, was a double
if doubting her, senses, she murmured 3, :, wedding there, that, night, Mr, Js dward Ver.
“ And has.Edwardscome too ?”,.... ...... NOM was united to, Miss. Agnes Glenwood, . 18 i
A moment after, end: she was folded to,.and Mr. Augustus Fitzgerald, Jed, to the, als i
the.breast of the scout, anda copious. fload tar the blooming Miss Rachel Morris. The, .
of tears relieved the pent. up feelings of her lafter young gentleman, as well. as his
heart. ° u bride, objected to this course, owing to their. »
dt was the view,of the burning hujldisgs circumstances, as Singlair, had ‘squandered.
of. the, settlement, that, had so,startled , both, mostof their. fortune, but. Sampson Combat,
Vernon. and Fitzgerald, after they had. (28 we shall continue, to call. him), would
passed the gorge. They ,ecoyered. them-,,hear, of, no; j excuse, ‘shook & purse under
selves in a;short time, and with, their: men their, DOSES and, declared that the, times...
pressed, eagerly forward. to the,, scene, of, were, precarious, ‘ang. delays dangerous,—,
strife, , Observing that, a, long column was The.,,concluding. ceremonies: . were; CON: ;
approach mg the, mansion of; Sinelajr,. they. . ducted; by, the “ Whee Day a sh of.
became a darned for the fate, of the, aly, with, ree eelate

 

¢

eb te abhid ody od? no boleyor

 

. a ial sti. $9 ot Yi aly THE” ‘END. ; fe: + = 7S ; os

 

 
 

 
 

 

 
 
 
 

 
 

 

 

Frank Starr’s American Novels !

100 PAGES OCTAVO, ILLUMINATED COVERS, TEN CENTS EACH!

writers cater for it.

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Ready Oct. 26th.

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All newsdealers sell Frank Starr’s Novels; or copies sent to any address,
by the publishers, post-paid, on receipt of price, ten cents for each book ordered.

No. 174—The Silent Rifleman.
175—Long-Armed Sampson; or, The Scout of the Silver Pond. By Newton M-
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176—Red Ralph, the Ranger ; or, The Brother’s
Ready Aug. 17th. —
177—The Giant Trailer ; or, The Lost Scalp-lock.
178—The Doomed Guide ; or, The Hunter’s Trail. Ready Sept. 14th.
179—The Ranger’s Rifle ; or, The Wolf of the War-Path. Ready Sept. 28th.
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Ready Aug. 81st.

and are sold by news-

 

1—The Wood Rangers.
2—The Patriot Scouts.
3—Peleg Smith.
4—The Backwoodsmen,
5-—The Phantom Chief.
6—The Prairie Trail.
t—The Black/Scout.
~ 8— Westward Bound.
9—Chinga, the Cheyenne.
10—Witch of the Wallowish.
11—The Young Pioneer.
12—The Beautiful Unknown.
13—-The Jungle Scout.
14—The Steam. Man.
15—The Red Foe.
16—Lew Wetzel, the Scout.
17-—-Kit Carson, the Guide.
18—Kill-B’ar, the Guide.
19—Buck Buckram.
20—Trapper Ben.
21—Canebrake Mose.
22-—-Old Lute, Indian-Fighter
23—The Prairie Pirates.
24—Red Claw, the Trapper.
25—The Free Trappers.
26—The Border Scout.
27—The Bandit Hermit.
28—Keen-Eye, the Ranger,
29—Old Sol, Giant Trapper:
30--Nick Gnarl, Dwarf Guide
31—Sib Cone, the Trapper.
82—The Specter Spy.
83—Tom Hawk, the Trailer.
34—The River Rifles.
- 85—The Renegade Chief.

138-Kid Kerly, the Trapper.
139-The Fighting Trapper.
140-Thayendanegea,
141-Black Horse of Prairies
142-The Texaw Spy.

143-The Gulf Pirate.
144-One-eyed Sim. ;
145-Old Rube, the Hunter. |
146-Doblado, the Outlaw.

»

 

 

41—Wild Raven, the Scout.
42—Tom Pintle, the Pilot.
43—The White Warrior.
44—Lone Star, Texan Scout,
45—Ham, the Hunter.
46—The Hunter Guide,
47--Old Strategy.

| 48—Scarlet Moccasin.

49—Mad Anthony's Scouts.
50—The Miner Rangers.
51--The Cannibal Chief.
52—The Skeleton Scout.
53—Thornpath, the Trailer,
54—The Black Rider.
55--Green Jacket, Gunmaker
56—The Valley Scout.
57—The Black Dwarf.
58—Silent Shot, the Slayer.
59—Iron Hand, Tory Chief.
60—The Man-Hunters.
61--The Three Trappers.
62—The Scalpless Hunter,
63—Bald Head, the Hunter.
64—The Haunted Hunter.
65--The Wood Witch.
66—Cloud wood.

67--Rain bolt, the Ranger,
68—The Indian Scout.
69-—The Phantom Hunter.

147-The Red Warrior.
148-The Son of the Sea.
149-The Texan Herdsman.
150-Stung Serpent.
151-Scouting Dave,
152-Arkansas Regulators.
153-The Slaver Captain.
154-The Secret Shot.
155-Mike, the Guide,

 

70-—Tahle, the Trailer.
71—The Mad Miner.
72—Weptonomah.

43—The Secret Slayer.
74—The Phantom Trail.
%—The Red Guide.
76—Rollo, the Boy Ranger.

7—Dusky Darrell, Trapper.

78—Lynx-Cap.

79—The Red Spy.

80—The Heart-Kater.
81—Blne Belt, the Guide.
82—Montbars, the Scourge.
83—The Tangled Trail.
84—Wild Nat.

85—The Boy Spy

86—The Scalp King.
87—The Wol!-Queen,
88—The Boy Chief.

89. The Squaw Guide.

90, The Skull-Hunter.

91. The Red Wizard.

92. Delaware Tom.

93. The Gir] Avenger.

94. The Wild Horseman.
95—Death-Dealer.
96—The Phantom Rider.
9%7—The Masked Spy.
98—The Mad Trail-Hunter.
99 —Merciless Matt.
100-Red Ax, Indian Giant.
J01-The Forest Fiend.
102-Clyde, the Trailer.
103-Kenton, the Ranger.

156-Waving Plume.
157-Border Ben.
158-The Black Hunter.
159-The Young Ranger.
160-Tom Wiley.
161-Loyal Heart.
162-0ld Nick Whiffles.
163-The Gold Guide.
164-T'he Death Track.

Mammoth Star Novels, 100 Pages Octavo, Dluminated Covers,

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| 39—The Forest Outlaw.

+ 40—Red Jacket, the Huron.

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105-Star-Face, the Slayer.
106-Cortina, the Scourge.
107-The Texas Hawks.
108-The Yellow Hunter.
109-Little Rifle, Boy Trapper

| 110-Old Ruff, the Trapper,
111-Sharp-eye, Sioux Chief,
112-Phil Hunter, Scourge.

| 118-Mori, the Man-hunter,

| 114-The Dog Avenger.

115-Red-knife, Wyandotte,

116-The Boy Pilot.

117-The Elk Demon.

118-Crockett, Bear-hunter.

119-The Phantom Trailer,
120-Donble-band, Destroyer,

121-Moccasin Bill, y

122-Frontier Shack,

123-Cato, the Creeper.
124-Outlaw Jack.
125-Rattling Dick, Outlaw.
126-Silver Rifle, Girl Trailer,
127-The Red Prophet.
128-The Antelope Boy.
129-The Specter Horseman.
130-Left-Handed Pete,
131-The Squaw Spy.
132-The Branded Brave.
133-Spanish Jack.

134-The Witch Queen.

135-Wolf-Cap.

136-The Red Hermitess.

137-Old Pegs, Mountaineer.

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165-The White Wizard.
166-Hirl, the Hunchback.
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168-Alapaha, the Squaw,
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170-Assowaum, the Avenger
J71-Saul Sabberday, Spy.
172-Prairie Flower.
173-Mountaia Max.

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