rant you a parole; you must accompany me to the Highlands."

"I did not expect otherwise, Major Dunwoodie."

"Major Dunwoodie," said Frances, "I have already acknowledged to you
my esteem; I have promised, Dunwoodie, when peace shall be restored to
our country, to become your wife; give my brother his liberty on
parole, and I will this day go with you to the altar, follow you to
the camp, and, in becoming a soldier's bride, learn to endure a
soldier's privations."

Dunwoodie seized the hand which the blushing girl extended towards
him, and pressed it for a moment to his bosom; he paced the room in
excessive agitation.

"Frances, say no more, I conjure you, unless you wish to break my
heart."

"Then you reject my proffered hand?" she said, rising with dignity.

"Reject it! Have I not sought it with entreaties, with tears? But to
take it under such conditions would be to dishonor both. Henry must be
acquitted; perhaps not tried. No intercession of mine shall be
wanting, you must well know; and believe me, Frances, I am not without
favor with Washington."

"That paper, that abuse of his confidence, will steel him to my
brother's case. If threats or entreaties could move his stern sense
of justice, would Andre have suffered?" As Frances uttered these
words, she fled from the room in despair.

Dunwoodie remained for a minute nearly stupefied; and then he
followed with a view to vindicate[52] himself, and to relieve her
apprehensions. On entering the hall that divided the two parlors,
he was met by a ragged boy, who looked one moment at his dress, and
placing a piece of paper in his hands, immediately vanished through
the outer door of the building. The soldier turned his eyes to the
subject of the note. It was written on a piece of torn and soiled
paper, and in a hand barely legible; but, after much labor, he was
able to make out as follows:

[Footnote 52: free from blame.]

"The rig'lars are at hand, horse and foot."

Dunwoodie started; and, forgetting everything but the duties of a
soldier, he precipitately left the house. While walking rapidly
towards the troops, he noticed on a distant hill a vidette[53] riding
with speed; several pistols were fired in quick succession, and the
next instant the trumpets of the corps rang in his ears with the
enlivening strain of "To arms." By this time he had reached the ground
occupied by his squadron; the major saw that every man was in active
motion. Lawton was alr