hotter sun, or more sultry air. It was as though we were
within a furnace; men struggled for breath, not a few dropped exhausted,
the others straggling grimly forward, their faces streaked with dust and
perspiration, their saturated clothing clinging to their bodies. Under
these conditions rapid marching was impossible, yet by nine o'clock we
had passed the Freehold Meeting House, and were halted in the protection
of a considerable wood, the men dropping to the ground in the grateful
shadow. Maxwell came along back of our line, his horse walking slowly, as
the general mopped his streaming red face. He failed to recognize me
among the others until I stepped out into the boiling sun, and spoke:

"What is that firing to the right, General? Are the Jersey militia in
action?"

He drew up his horse with a jerk.

"That you, Lawrence? Can't tell anybody in this shirt-sleeved brigade.
What's become of your horse?"

"Gave out yesterday, sir. Have been on foot ever since. Is it going to be
a fight?"

The grip of his hand tightened on the saddle pommel, his eyes following
the irregular line of exhausted men.

"Yes, when Washington gets up; you need never doubt that. We'd be at it
now, but for Charles Lee. I'd like well to know what has come over that
man of late--the old spirit seems to have left him. Aye! it's Dickinson
and Morgan out yonder, wasting good powder and ball on a handful of
Dragoons. Wayne has been ordered forward, and then back, until he is too
mad to swear, and I am but little better. By the Eternal! you should have
heard Lafayette, when he begged permission to send us in. 'Sir,' said
Lee, 'you do not know British soldiers; we cannot stand against them; we
shall certainly be driven back at first, and must be cautious.' Returned
the Frenchman: 'It may be so, General; but British soldiers have been
beaten, and may be again; at any rate I am disposed to make the trial.'"

"'T is not like General Lee," I broke in. "He has ever been a reckless
fighter. Has the man lost his wits?"

Maxwell leaned over, so his words should not carry beyond my ear.

"'T is envy of Washington, to my mind," he said soberly. "He has opposed
every plan in council, imagining, no doubt, a failure of campaign may
make him the commander-in-chief. There comes a courier now."

The fellow was so streaked with dust as to be scarcely recognizable, and
he wiped the perspiration from his eyes to stare into our faces.

"General Maxwell?"

"Y