ugh followed.

"Hello, what is that?" for the thud of hoofs was heard on the road
coming from the camp.

"A flag of truce, by George!" said the sergeant. "Who on earth wants
to go through the lines on a night like this?"

The party, consisting of several troopers, an officer, and what
appeared to be a woman on horseback, was soon within hailing distance,
and I heard Ringgold's voice call out:

"I say, Frisby, are you in charge here?"

"Yes," I replied. "What's up?"

"We have a prisoner here who wishes to go through the lines, but I
don't know whether you will permit her or not."

"Is she fair?" I asked. "For in that case she shall not pass unless
she gives us a smile by way of tribute as she rides by."

"Not even if George Washington so orders, sir," said a voice that I
knew.

"By the saints, my lady!" I cried, and I was by her side in an
instant. "What brings you here, and why are you going within the
English lines?"

"Should not a daughter be with her father?" she asked.

"But those bloody English, with all their fine trappings and their
feathers! Nay, my lady, you have been disrespectful to the Continental
Congress, as I can vouch for. You are our prisoner, and I will not let
you escape thus, to smile on the wearers of his Majesty's uniform."

But she laughed quite merrily, and answered my threat with "Lieutenant
Ringgold, pray ride on with the flag of truce."

"Dick Ringgold," I cried in my turn, "if you take less than ten
minutes I shall be your deadly enemy for life."

"All right, old fellow." Dick rode on toward the enemy's campfire with
the bugler until he had gone about half the way, and then we heard the
parley sounded and saw a stir in the opposite camp.

"Mistress Jean," said I, returning to the charge, "you are perfectly
heartless, and though I know the redcoats cannot help but fall in love
with you, I warn you that if you smile on any one of them I shall go
through the lines and seek him out, even into the heart of the city
itself, though I have to swing for it."

"You will never try anything so rash;" and now the laughter had gone
from her voice.

"That I will, my lady," I replied, "for I would rather dance on
nothing than know that you belonged to another."

"But you must not," said she. "You must not think of such a thing. You
must promise me never to attempt it."

"Nay, Mistress Jean, that I cannot promise. It would drive me mad to
stand here on guard all the winter night and s