en more than for his dear pupil, who, he
believed, lay dead under the savage Indian knife.

At every step which Harry Warrington took towards Pennsylvania the
reports of the British disaster were magnified and confirmed. Those two
famous regiments which had fought in the Scottish and Continental wars
had fled from an enemy almost unseen, and their boasted discipline and
valour had not enabled them to face a band of savages and a few French
infantry. The unfortunate commander of the expedition had shown the
utmost bravery and resolution.

Four times his horse had been shot under him. Twice he had been wounded,
and the last time of the mortal hurt which ended his life three days
after the battle. More than one of Harry's informants described the
action to the poor lad,--the passage of the river, the long line of
advance through the wilderness, the firing in front, the vain struggle of
the men to advance, and the artillery to clear the way of the enemy; then
the ambushed fire from behind every bush and tree, and the murderous
fusillade, by which at least half of the expeditionary force had been
shot down. But not all the General's suite were killed, Harry heard. One
of his aides-de-camp, a Virginian gentleman, was ill of fever and
exhaustion at Dunbar's camp.

One of them--but which? To the camp Harry hurried, and reached it at
length. It was George Washington Harry found stretched in a tent there,
and not his brother. A sharper pain than that of the fever Mr. Washington
declared he felt, when he saw Harry Warrington, and could give him no
news of George.

Mr. Washington did not dare to tell Harry all. For three days after the
fight his duty had been to be near the General. On the fatal 9th of July
he had seen George go to the front with orders from the chief, to whose
side he never returned. After Braddock himself died, the aide-de-camp had
found means to retrace his course to the field. The corpses which
remained there were stripped and horribly mutilated. One body he buried
which he thought to be George Warrington's. His own illness was
increased, perhaps occasioned, by the anguish which he underwent in his
search for the unhappy volunteer.

"Ah, George! If you had loved him you would have found him dead or
alive," Harry cried out. Nothing would satisfy him but that he, too,
should go to the ground and examine it. With money he procured a guide or
two. He forded the river at the place where the army had passed over