Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 39, Number 69, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 May 1907 — THE SPY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE SPY

BY J. FENIMORE COOPER

'A STORY OF THE REVOLUTION

‘CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) The appalled Frances shrank back from between her brother and lover, as the whole truth glanced over her mind. “But the pickets—the party at the Plains?” added Dunwoodie, turning pale. “I passed them, too, in disguise. I Bade use of this pass, for which I paid; and, as It bears the name of Washington, I presume is forged.” Dunwoodie caught the paper from hie band, eagerly, and stood gazing on the signature for some time in Silence, when be turned to the prisoner, with a searching look, as he asked: “Captain Wharton, whence did you procure this paper?” - - “That is a question, I conceive. Major Dunwoodie has no right to ask.” “This name is no counterfeit,” said the dragoon in a low voice; “is treason yet among us undiscovered? The confidence of Washington has been absed, for the fictitious name is in a different hand from the pass. Captain Wharton, my duty will not suffer me to grant you a parole; you must accompany me to the Highlands. < “I did not expect otherwise. Major Dunwoodie.” Dunwoodie turned slowly toward the aiaters, when the figure of Frances once Bore arrested his gaze. She had risen from her seat, and stood with her hands clasped before him in an attitude of petition ; feeling himself unable to contend longer with his feelings, he made a hurried excuse for a temporary absence, and left the room. Frances followed him. “Major Dunwoodie," she said, in a Toice barely audible, her cheek flushed with a suffusion that crimsoned her whole countenance' “I have already acknowledged to you my esteem. Believe me, Henry is innocent of everything but imprudence. Our country can sustain no wrong.” “ She paused, almost gasped for breath, and added hastily, in an under-

tone, “I have promised, Dunwoodie, when peace shall be restored to our country, to become your wife; give to my brother his liberty on parole, and I will this dny so with you to the altar, follow you to the camp, and, in becoming a soldier’s bride, learn to endure a soldier's privations.” Dunwoodie seized the hand which the blushing girl, in her ardor, had extended toward him. and pressed it for a moment to his bosom; then rising from his seat, he paced the room in excessive agitation. “Frances, say no more, I conjure you, olffess you wish to break my heart.” “You then reject my offered hand?” she ■aid, rising with dignity. “Reject it! Have I not sought It with entreaties —with tears? lias it not been the goal of all my earthly wishes? But to take it under such conditions would be to dishonor both. We will hope for better things. Henry must be acquitted; perhaps not tried. No intercession-of mine shall be wanting. ’ Frances, I am not without favor with Washington.” “That very paper, that abuse of his confidence to which you allude, will steel him to my brother's case. If threats or entreaties could move his stern sense of justice, would Andre have suffered?” As Frances uttered these words, she fled from the room in despair. Dunwoodie remained for a minute nearly stupefied. On entering the hall he was met by a small ragged boy, who looked one moment at his dress, and placing a piece of paper in his hands, immediately vanished. The soldier turned his eyes to the subject of the note. It was written on a piece of tom and soiled paper, and in a hand barely legible, and he was able to make out as follows; “The rlg’lars are at hand, horse and foot.”

Dunwoodie started; and, forgetting everything but the duties of a soldier, precipitately left the house. While walking rapidly toward the troops, he noticed on t . a distant hill a vedette riding with speed; several pistols were fired; and the next instant the trumpets of the corps rang In his ears. By the time he had reached the ground occupied oy his squadron, the major saw that every man was in active motion. Law ton was already in the saddle, and crying to the musicians, in tones bat little lower than their own; “Bound away, my lads, and let these Englishmen know that the Virginia Horse are between them and the end of their journey.” It cannot be supposed that these preparations were made unheeded by the ins- mates of the cottage; on the contrary, every feeling which can agitate tßKTiumaa breast was actively alive. Mr. Wharton alone saw no hopes to himself in the termination of the conflict. If the British k should prevail, his son would be liberated; but what then would be his own fate? He had hitherto preserved his neutral character in the midst of trying circumstances. The fact of his having a son in the royal army had very nearly brought his estates to the hammer- Should his son now be rescued, he would, in the public mind, be united with him as a plotter against the freedom of the States; and should he remain a captive and undergo the impending trial, the conseluencas might be still more dreadful.

CHAPTER VI. Dunwoodle’s men had often tried their prowess against the enemy, and they now sat panting to be led once more against foes who they seldom charged in vain. Their wishes were to be gratified; for a body of the enemy soon came sweeping round the base of the bill which intersected the view to the south. A few minutes enabled the major to distinguish their character. In one troop he saw the green coats of the Cowboys, and in the other the leathern helmets and wooden saddles of the yagers. Their numbers equal to the body under his immediate orders. On reaching the open space near the cottage of Harvey Birch, the enemy halted and drew up his men in line. At this moment a column of foot appeared in the vale, and pressed forward. / Major Dunwoodie at once saw his advantage. The column he led began slowly TO retire from the field, when the youthful German, who commanded the enemy's horse, fearful of missing an easy conquest, gave the word to charge. Few troopers were more hardy than the Cowboys; they sprang eagerly forward in the pursuit, with a confidence created by the retiring foe and the column in their rear; the Hessians followed more slowly, but in better order. The trumpets of the Virginians now sounded long and lively; they were answered by a strain from a party in ambush that went to the hearts of their enemies. The column of Dunwoodie wheeled in perfect order, opened, and, as the word charge was given, the troops of Lawton emerged from their cover. The charge threatened too much for the refugee troop. They scattered in every direction, flying from the field as fast as their horses could carry them. Duty a few were hurt;, but such as did meet the arms of their avenging countrymen never survived the blow. It was upon the poor vassals of the German tyrant that the shock fell. Disciplined to the most exact obedience, these ill-fated- men met the charge bravely, but they were swept before the mettled horss and nervous arms of their antagonists like chaff before the wind. Many of them were literally ridden down, and Dunwoodie soon saw the field without an opposing foe.

The lawn in front of the Locusts was hidden from the view of the road by a close line of shrubbery, and the horses of the two dragoons had been left, linked together, under its shelter. Two Cowboys, who had been cut off from a retreat to their own party, rode furiously through the gate, with an iiftention of escaping to the open wood in the rear of the cottage. The victorious Americans pressed th e retreating Germans until they had driven them under the protection of the fire of the infantry; and feeling themselves, in the privacy of the lawn, relieved from any immediate danger, the predatory warriors made toward their intended prizes, by an almost spontaneous movement. They were busily engaged in separating the fastenings of the horses when the trooper on the piazza discharged his pistol, and rushed, sword in hand, to the rescue.

•The entrance of Caesar into the parlor had induced the wary dragoon within to turn his attention more elosely on his prisoner; but this new interruption drew him again to the window. He threw his body out of the building, and endeavored by his threats and appearance to frighten the marauders from their prey. The moment was enticing. Three hundred of his comrades were within a mile of the cottage;unridden horses were running at large in every direction, and Henry Wharton seized the unconscious sentinel by the legs and threw him headlong into the lawn. Caesar vanished from the room, and drew a bolt of the outer door. The fall of the soldier was not great, and recovering his feet, he turned his fury for a moment on his prisoner. To scale the window in the face of such an enemy was, however, impossible, and on trial he found the main entrance barred. His comrade now called loudly on him for aid, and forgetful of everything else, the discomfited trooper rushed to hts assistance. One horse was instantly liberated, but the other was already fastened to the saddle of a Cowboy, and the four retired behind the building, cutting furiously at each other with their sabres. Ctesar threw the outer door open, and pointing to the remaining horse, exclaimed :

"Run—now—run —Massa Henry, run.” “Yes,” cried the youth, as he vaulted into the saddle, “now, indeed, my honest fellow, is the time to run.” ne beckoned hastily to his father, who stood at the window in speechless anxiety, with his hands extended toward his child in the attitude of benediction, nad dashed through the gate with the rapidity of lightning. His horse was of the best blood of Virginia, and carried him with the swiftness of the wind along the valley; and the heart of the youth was already beating tumultuously with pleasure at his deliverance when a well-known voice reached his startled ear, crying aloud; "Bravely done, captain! Don’t spare the whip, and turn to your left before you cross the brook.” Wharton turned his head in surprise, and saw, silting on the point of a jutting rock that commanded a bird’s-eye view of the valley, his former guide, Harvey Birch. His pack, much diminished In size, lay at the feet of the peddler. The English captain took the advice of the mysterious being; firing c gc?d ‘road, was soon ftflpSsit* to hts friends. The next minute he crossed the bridge and stopped his charger befdre his old acquaintance, Colonel Wellmere. “Captain Wharton!” exclaimed the astonished commander of the English troops, “and mounted on a rebel dragoon horse!” “Thank God!” cried the youth, recovering his breath, “1 am safe, and have escaped from the hands of my enemies; but five minutes since and I was a prisoner. and threatened with the gallows." “The gallows. Captain Wharton! Surely those traitors to the king would never dare to commit another murder in cold blood; is It not enough tht they took the

life of , Andre? Wherefore did (bey threaten? you with a" similar fate?” —r “Under the pretense of a similar offense,” said the captain, briefly explaining the manner of his capture, ‘ the grounds of his personal apprehensions, and the method of his escape. During this conversation, which was held in full view of the Americana, Dunwoodie had been collecting his scattered troops, securing his few prisoners, and retiring to tlie ground where he had been posted at the first appearance of his enemy. Satiefied with the success he had already obtained, and believing the English too wary to give him an opportunity of harassing them farther, he was about to seek a favorable place for taking up his quarters for the night. Captain Lawton was reluctantly listening to the reasoning of his commander, and had brought out his favorite glass to see if no opening couid be found for an advantageous attack, when be suddenly exclaimed: “How’s this? a blue coat among those scarlet gentry! As I hope to live to see old Virginia, it is my masquerading friend of the 60th, the handsome Captain Wharton, escaped from two of my beat men!” This Intelligence made an entire change in the views of Major Dunwoodie. He saw at once that his own reputation was involved in the escape of his prisoned He now joined his second in command, watching, as eagerly as the impetuous Lawton himself, for some opening to a*sail his foe to advantage. But two hours' before, and Dunwoodie had felt the chance which made Henry Wharton his captive, as the severest blow he had ever sustained. Now he panted for an opportunity .in which, by risking his own life, he -might recapture hii friend. All other considerations were lost in the goadings of a wounded spirit, “There,” cried the delighted captain, a« he pointed out the movement with his finger, “there comes John Bull into the mousetrap, and with eyes wide open.” “Surely,” said Dunwoodie, eagerly, “he will not display his column in that flat. Wharton must tell him of the ambush. But if he does ” “We will not leave him a dozen sound skins m his battalion,” interrupted the other, springing into his saddle. “Prepare to mount—mount!” cried Dunwoodie. t——-

As the British line advanced slowly and in exact order,'the guides opened a galling fire. It began to annoy that part of the royal troops which was nearest to them.Wellmere listened to the advice of the veteran who was next to him in rank, and ordered two companies to dislodge the American foot from their hiding place. The movement created a slight confusion, and Dunwoodie seized the opportunity to charge. Wellmere, who was on the left of his line, was overthrown by the impetuous fury of his assailants. Dunwoodie was in time to save him from the impending blow of one of his men, and raised him from the ground, had him placed on a horse, and delivered to the custody of his orderly.

The left of the British line was outflanked by the Americans, who doubled in their rear, and thus made the_rout in that quarter total. But the s”cond in command, perceiving how the battle went, promptly wheeled his party and threw In a heavy fire on the dragoons; with this party was Henry Wharton; a ball struck his bridle arm, and compelled him to change hands. As the dragoons dashed by them, rending the air with their shouts, and with trumpets sounding a lively - strain, the charger ridden by the youth became ungovernable—he plunged, reared and his rider being unable, with his -rounded arm, to manage the impatient animal, Henry Wharton found himself, in less than a minute, unwillingly riding by the side of Captain Lawton. The dragoon comprehended at a glanca the ludicrous situation, but had only time to cry aloud, before they plunged into the English line: “The horse knows the righteous cause better than his rider. Captain Wharton, you are welcome to the ranks of freedom.” No time was lost, however, by Lawton, after the charge was completed, in securing the prisoner again; and, perceiving him to be hurt, he directed him to be conveyed to the rear. (To be continued.)

"SOUND AWAY. LADS.”