back slowly enough toward the rear of the troops, through the
field hospitals, and along the edge of a wood, where a battery of
artillery was encamped. We rode boot to boot, and Hamilton spoke
earnestly.

"The battle is practically won, Lawrence, in spite of Charles Lee," he
said soberly. "Of course there will be fighting to-morrow, but we shall
have the Red-coats well penned in before daybreak, and have already
captured ammunition enough to make us easy on that score. Poor, and the
Carolina men, are over yonder, while Woodford is moving his command to
the left. At dawn we'll crush Clinton into fragments. Washington wants to
send a despatch through to Arnold in Philadelphia, and I recommended you,
as you know the road. He remembered your service before, and was kind
enough to say you were the very man. You'll go gladly?"

"I should prefer to lead my own men to-morrow, sir."

"Pshaw! I doubt if we have more than a skirmish. Sir Henry will see his
predicament fast enough. Then there will be nothing left to do, but guard
prisoners."

"Very well, Colonel; I am ready to serve wherever needed."

"Of course you are, man. There should not be much danger connected with
this trip, although there will be stragglers in plenty. I'm told that
Clinton lost more than three hundred deserters crossing Camden."

Headquarters were in a single-roomed cabin at the edge of a ravine. A
squad of cavalrymen were in front, their horses tied to a rail fence, but
within Washington was alone, except for a single aide, writing at a rude
table in the light of a half-dozen candles. He glanced up, greeting us
with a slight inclination of the head.

"A moment, gentlemen."

He wrote slowly, as though framing his sentences with care, occasionally
questioning the aide. Once he paused, and glanced across at Hamilton.

"Colonel, do you know a Dragoon named Mortimer?"

"I have no recollection of ever having met the man, sir. I have written
him orders, however; he is a scout attached to General Lee's
headquarters."

"Yes; I recall the name. He is the one who brought us our first definite
information this morning of Clinton's position. I remember now, you were
not with me when he rode up--young, slender lad, with the face of a girl.
I could but notice his eyes; they were as soft and blue as violets! Well,
an hour ago he came here for a favor; it seems the boy is a son of
Colonel Mortimer, of the Queen's Rangers."

"Indeed; Wayne reported the Colone