ted to strut forth from the feat with
his sword at his side, his head up--the scalp-buyer, the murderer of
Alice! What was patriotism to the crushed heart of a lover? Even if his
vision had been able to pierce the future and realize the splendor of
Anglo-Saxon civilization which was to follow that little triumph at
Vincennes, what pleasure could it have afforded him? Alice, Alice, only
Alice; no other thought had influence, save the recurring surge of
desire for vengeance upon her murderer.

And yet that night Beverley slept, and so forgot his despair for many
hours, even dreamed a pleasant dream of home, where his childhood was
spent, of the stately old house on the breezy hill-top overlooking a
sunny plantation, with a little river lapsing and shimmering through
it. His mother's dear arms were around him, her loving breath stirred
his hair; and his stalwart, gray-headed father sat on the veranda
comfortably smoking his pipe, while away in the wide fields the negroes
sang at the plow and the hoe. Sweeter and sweeter grew the scene,
softer the air, tenderer the blending sounds of the water-murmur,
leaf-rustle, bird-song, and slave-song, until hand in hand he wandered
with Alice in greening groves, where the air was trembling with the
ecstacy of spring.

A young officer awoke him with an order from Clark to go on duty at
once with Captains Worthington and Williams, who, under Colonel Clark
himself, were to take possession of the fort. Mechanically he obeyed.
The sun was far up, shining between clouds of a leaden, watery hue, by
the time everything was ready for the important ceremony. Beside the
main gate of the stockade two companies of patriots under Bowman and
McCarty were drawn up as guards, while the British garrison filed out
and was taken in charge. This bit of formality ended, Governor
Hamilton, attended by some of his officers, went back into the fort and
the gate was closed.

Clark now gave orders that preparations be made for hauling down the
British flag and hoisting the young banner of liberty in its place,
when everything should be ready for a salute of thirteen guns from the
captured battery.

Helm's round face was beaming. Plainly it showed that his happiness was
supreme. He dared not say anything, however; for Clark was now all
sternness and formality; it would be dangerous to take any liberties;
but he could smile and roll his quid of tobacco from cheek to cheek.

Hamilton and Farnsworth, the latt