ng for his country, "he had not the heart to
fight against her." Our scout lingered for two or three days in the
British camp, and then, by a 'detour', regained that of the Americans;
reporting to his Commander all that he had seen. He was encouraged to
repeat his visit a few weeks after, but this time he took with him a
comrade, one Sergeant Newton, a fellow quite as brave in spirit, and
strong in body as himself. Here he was again well received by his
brother, who entertained the guests kindly for several days. Meanwhile,
a small party of Americans were brought into Ebenezer as captives, over
whom hung the danger of "short shrift and sudden cord". They were on
their way to Savannah for trial. They had taken arms with the British,
as hundreds more had done, when the country was deemed reconquered; but,
on the approach of the American army, had rejoined their countrymen, and
were now once more at the mercy of the power with which they had broken
faith. "It will go hard with them," said the Tory Jasper to his Whig
brother; but the secret comment of the other was, "it shall go hard with
me first." There was a woman, the wife of one of the prisoners, who,
with her child, kept them company. William Jasper and his friend were
touched by the spectacle of their distress; and they conferred together,
as soon as they were alone, as to the possibility of rescuing them.
Their plan was soon adopted. It was a simple one, such as naturally
suggests itself to a hardy and magnanimous character. The prisoners
had scarcely left the post for Savannah, under a guard of eight men, a
sergeant and corporal, when they took leave of their host, and set forth
also, though in a different direction from the guard. Changing their
course when secure from observation, they stretched across the country
and followed the footsteps of the unhappy captives. But it was only in
the pursuit that they became truly conscious of the difficulty, nay,
seeming impossibility, of effecting their object. The guard was
armed, and ten in number; they but two and weaponless. Hopeless, they
nevertheless followed on. Two miles from Savannah there is a famous
spring, the waters of which are well known to travellers. The conjecture
that the guard might stop there, with the prisoners, for refreshment,
suggested itself to our companions; here, opportunities might occur for
the rescue, which had nowhere before presented themselves. Taking an
obscure path with which they were fam