er; then pushing off the scow, he leaped aboard himself.

"Lackaday for my new silk petticoat, all spotted and ruined!" cried
Nancy. "I'd rather have been taken prisoner at once!" And she looked
down ruefully upon the specks of blue marsh mud that had been splashed
upon that garment.

Neither of the men answered. The boat leaked very badly when it was
fairly out in the water, and the Colonel was forced to bail it out with
his hat. The Captain sat in the middle of the boat, paddling it with a
piece of board. His hat had blown off, and his black silk small-clothes
were covered with mud. The tide was running strongly, and as the boat
drifted down the stream, it was swung round and round in spite of the
Captain's efforts to keep it straight, while the leak gained on them,
until Nancy, with a sigh, was compelled to take her best beaver hat,
ribbons and all, and help the Colonel bail.

They were scarcely more than half across when Major Fortescue and his
squad of soldiers dashed up to the bank. They ran along the embankment,
keeping pace with the boat as it drifted with the tide.

"Halt!" cried the officer; but no one in the boat answered. "Halt, or I
shoot!" But Captain Bellach only paddled the harder.

"Make ready! Take aim!--"

"Down, for your life!" cried Colonel Tilton, sharply, dragging Nancy
down into the bottom of the boat, where Captain Bellach flung himself
beside them. It was the work of a moment. The next instant--"Fire!" they
heard the royalist order, sharply, from the bank.

"Cra-a-a-ack!" rattled the muskets, and the bullets hummed venomously
around the boat like a swarm of angry hornets.

None of the fugitives were hurt, though two of the bullets struck the
side of the boat; but Nancy's petticoat was entirely ruined by the mud
and water in the bottom. Before the redcoats could reload, they had
reached the further shore, and run into a corn field near by, in which
they were entirely hidden. Captain Bellach wanted to go up the stream
and thrash the drunken ferryman; but the Colonel and Nancy dissuaded
him, and they made the best of their way to Dover, which they reached
after a very weary journey. There Nancy, who considered it safer to
absent herself from home while the British retained possession of
Wilmington, found herself the heroine of the hour; and she was feted and
dined and made much of, until it would have completely turned a less
sensible little head than hers.

In after-years, when her husb