ing whip, she galloped fast.
She reached the ferry landing, the boat was there, but Peter Taylor,
in whose face she read distressful tidings, was reluctant to carry her
over.

"Maybe, mum, you'd best stay in Belpre; there's a rough set on the
island."

"The militia, I suppose," said she. "Make haste! Take me to my
children."

Hesitatingly, the rowers obeyed their mistress, whose eyes watchfully
pierced the fog, in every direction, though nothing could she see of
the sneaking river-spy or of his canoe. She drew a long breath of
relief, and turned inquiringly to Peter Taylor.

"Has anything gone wrong?"

"Heverything 'as gone wrong!"

He told her a dismal tale of the doings of the militia, dwelling on
his own inglorious sufferings. A flush reddened his mistress's cheeks,
her eyes flashed and her heart was on fire. "Go faster! Work with all
your might!"

The white man and his black helper bent hard to their poles, and
brought the boat speedily to the landing. The horse was led ashore and
its rider sprang into the saddle, and galloped to the door of her
house. The soldiers, bivouacking in the front yard, stared in
amazement as she rode past. In a minute, in a second, she alighted and
swept into the parlor, where six or eight brawling intruders sat on
mahogany chairs and upholstered sofas, drinking wine and singing
filthy songs. One fellow, maudlin from liquor, rolled on the Smyrna
rug. Another was in the act of firing a bullet at the frescoed
ceiling.

"Robbers! Cowards! Beasts! Begone! Where is your commanding officer?
By whose permission are you here? Young man"--this to a
captain--"you wear a sword--draw it and drive these ruffians out!
This is my house. You have no warrant to break in, like a band of
thieves."

This speech and the imperious bearing of the offended woman checked,
but did not stop the orgies of the irresponsible men. A few slunk from
the room, ashamed and overawed. But the mob spirit was not to be
quenched by an angry lady's lofty speech. The brutal element
prevailed. What cared those intoxicated revellers for a scolding
tongue? The young captain, his head swimming in the fumes of whiskey,
impudently replied, "I'm in command here myself, my dear. When Phelps
comes back, I'll interduce you to him." The soldiers yawped applause.
In the midst of the uproar, Juno, the house servant, ventured to come
in by way of the library, with Harman. The child ran to his mother
where she stood in the centre