picions to herself. After gazing for a long time at the point
where she had last seen the figure, in the vain expectation of its
reappearance, she turned to her friends in the apartment.

Dunwoodie soon made his appearance, but his air was that of neither
success nor defeat, but of vexation. He took the hand of Frances,
in the fulness of her heart extended towards him, but instantly
relinquishing it, threw himself into a chair, in evident fatigue.

"You have failed," said Wharton, with a bound of his heart, but an
appearance of composure.

"Have you seen Harper?" cried Frances, turning pale.

"I have not; I crossed the river in one boat as he must have been
coming to this side in another. I returned without delay to relieve
your uneasiness. I will this night see him and bring a respite for
Henry."

"But you saw Washington?" asked Miss Peyton.

"The commander-in-chief had left his quarters."

"But, Peyton," cried Frances, in returning terror, "if they should
not see each other, it will be too late. Harper alone will not be
sufficient."

"You say that he promised to assist Henry?"

"Certainly, of his own accord, and in requital for the hospitality he
had received."

"I like not that word 'hospitality'--it has an empty sound; there must
be something more reasonable to tie Harper. I dread some mistake:
repeat to me all that passed."

Frances, in a hurried and earnest voice, complied with his request.
She related particularly the manner of his arrival at the Locusts, the
reception that he received, and the events that passed, as minutely as
her memory could supply her with the means.

As she alluded to the conversation that occurred between her father
and his guest, the major smiled but remained silent. She then gave a
detail of Henry's arrival, and the events of the following day. She
dwelt upon the part where Harper desired her brother to throw aside
his disguise, and recounted, with wonderful accuracy, his remarks upon
the hazard of the step that the youth had taken. She even remembered a
remarkable expression of his to her brother, "that he was safer from
Harper's knowledge of his person, than he would be without it."
Frances mentioned, with the warmth of youthful admiration, the
benevolent character of his deportment to herself, and gave a minute
relation of his adieus to the whole family.

Dunwoodie at first listened with grave attention; evident satisfaction
followed as she proceeded. When she spoke o