Eugene and Marlborough down from his
bookshelves, all the military books of his grandfather, and the most
warlike of Plutarch's lives. He and Dempster were practising with the
foils again. The old Scotchman was an adept in the military art, though
somewhat shy of saying where he learned it.

Madam Esmond made her two boys the bearers of the letter in reply to his
Excellency's message, accompanying her note with such large and handsome
presents for the General's staff and the officers of the two Royal
Regiments, as caused the General more than once to thank Mr. Franklin
for having been the means of bringing this welcome ally into the camp.
"Would not one of the young gentlemen like to see the campaign?"
the General asked. "A friend of theirs, who often spoke of them--Mr.
Washington, who had been unlucky in the affair of last year--had already
promised to join him as aide-de-camp, and his Excellency would gladly
take another young Virginian gentleman into his family." Harry's eyes
brightened and his face flushed at this offer. "He would like with all
his heart to go!" he cried out. George said, looking hard at his younger
brother, that one of them would be proud to attend his Excellency,
whilst it would be the other's duty to take care of their mother
at home. Harry allowed his senior to speak. His will was even still
obedient to George's. However much he desired to go, he would not
pronounce until George had declared himself. He longed so for the
campaign, that the actual wish made him timid. He dared not speak on the
matter as he went home with George. They rode for miles in silence, or
strove to talk upon indifferent subjects; each knowing what was passing
in the other's mind, and afraid to bring the awful question to an issue.

On their arrival at home the boys told their mother of General
Braddock's offer. "I knew it must happen," she said; "at such a crisis
in the country our family must come forward. Have you--have you settled
yet which of you is to leave me?" and she looked anxiously from one to
another, dreading to hear either name.

"The youngest ought to go, mother; of course I ought to go!" cries
Harry, turning very red.

"Of course he ought," said Mrs. Mountain, who was present at their talk.

"There! Mountain says so! I told you so!" again cries Harry, with a
sidelong look at George.

"The head of the family ought to go, mother," says George, sadly.

"No! no! you are ill, and have never recovered your