try English dialect, already familiar
through talking with prisoners, and replied: "Naow, oi oin't
a-smowking," then gradually dropped out of sight.

They were nearly two hours in reaching Chazy where they passed the
Forks, going straight on north. Without doubt, now, the army was bound
for Canada! Rolf sat on a fence near by as their footsteps went tramp,
tramp, tramp--with the wagons, clank, clank, clank, and were lost in the
northern distance.

He had seen perhaps three hundred men; there were thirteen thousand to
account for, and he sat and waited. He did not have long to wait; within
half an hour a much larger body of troops evidently was approaching from
the south; several lanterns gleamed ahead of them, so Rolf got over the
fence, but it was low and its pickets offered poor shelter. Farther back
was Judge Hubbell's familiar abode with dense shrubbery. He hastened
to it and in a minute was hidden where he could see something of the
approaching troops. They were much like those that had gone before, but
much more numerous, at least a regiment, and as they filled the village
way, an officer cried "Halt!" and gave new orders. Evidently they were
about to bivouac for the night. A soldier approached the picket fence
to use it for firewood, but an officer rebuked him. Other fuel, chiefly
fence rails, was found, and a score or more of fires were lighted on the
highway and in the adjoining pasture. Rolf found himself in something
like a trap, for in less than two hours now would be the dawn.

The simplest way out was to go in; he crawled quietly round the house to
the window of Mrs. Hubbell's room. These were times of nervous tension,
and three or four taps on the pane were enough to arouse the good lady.
Her husband had come that way more than once.

"Who is it?" she demanded, through a small opening of the sash.

"Rolf Kittering," he whispered, "the place is surrounded by soldiers;
can't you hide me?"

Could she? Imagine an American woman saying "No" at such a time.

He slipped in quietly.

"What news?" she said. "They say that MacDonough has won on the Lake,
but Plattsburg is taken."

"No, indeed; Plattsburgh is safe; MacDonough has captured the fleet. I
am nearly sure that the whole British army is retiring to Canada."

"Thank God, thank God," she said fervently, "I knew it must be so; the
women have met here and prayed together every day, morning and night.
But hush!" she laid a warning finger on her lips