as the tempest that it was
impossible to wholly protect the invalid from it, and in less than a
week thereafter the noisy bustle of Johnson Hall was silenced for an
hour by her funeral. So deeply did the rugged soldier feel his loss,
that he vowed he would never again set foot in the house that had been
hers, and that, as soon as he could make provision for his children, he
would seek in battle for the king, that reunion with his loved one that
death alone could grant.

The children thus deprived of a mother's tender care were Donald, now a
sturdy lad of twelve years, and Edith, a dainty little maiden two years
younger. The former was wise beyond his years in forest lore, which he
had eagerly imbibed from the tuition of that master of woodcraft,
Truman Flagg. At the same time he was sadly deficient in a knowledge
of books and many other things that go to make up the education of a
gentleman. Him, therefore, the major decided to send to New York to be
fitted for the college then known as "King's," but afterwards famous
under the name of "Columbia."

Against this decision the lad raised strenuous objections, declaring
that his sole ambition was to become a soldier, and that such a one
could learn to fight without the aid of books.

"True, my son, so he can, after a fashion," replied the major, gravely.
"But, in the art of war, as in every other art, all our teachings come
from those who have preceded us, and the most important of these are
recorded in the books they have left for our consideration. Again, as
the soldier of to-day is the modern representative of the chivalrous
knight of olden time, he must needs be a gentleman, and an uneducated
gentleman would be as sorry a spectacle as an unarmed soldier in
battle. So, my dear boy, accept thy fate kindly and make a soldier's
fight against the enemy named ignorance. Upon the day of thy
graduation from King's College, if my influence can compass it, which I
doubt not it can, a commission in one of His Majesty's American
regiments shall await thy acceptance. I shall send our little lass
with thee, and both she and thyself will be entertained in the
household of Madam Rothsay, the widow of a dear friend of mine, who has
agreed to receive you and fulfil, so far as may be, a mother's duty
toward my motherless children."

The major escorted his children as far as Albany, where he embarked
them, together with the Scotch nurse who had cared for both of them
from thei