not heed him, he seized the left rein of his
horse's bridle, and, pulling on it, swung him about in a large circle,
letting go his hold only when they were riding away from the enemy.

Washington offered no resistance, and rode the hundred yards to where
the rest of his staff were standing, with bowed head. Nothing was said
as he rejoined the group, and Blueskin, disappointed in the charge for
which he had shown as much eagerness as his rider, let his mind recur to
thoughts of oats; finding no control in the hand that held his bridle,
he set out at an easy trot toward headquarters.

They had not ridden many yards ere Washington lifted his head, the
expression of hopelessness, which had taken the place of that of
animation, in turn succeeded by one of stern repose. He issued three
orders to as many of the riders, showing that his mind had not been
dwelling idly on the disaster, slipped his sword into its scabbard, and
gathered up his reins again.

"There!" thought Blueskin, as a new direction was indicated by his bit,
"I'm going to have another spell of it riding all ways of a Sunday, just
as we did last night. And it's coming on to rain."

Rain it did very quickly; but from post to post the horsemen passed, the
sternly silent commander speaking only when giving the necessary orders
to remedy so far as possible the disaster of the afternoon. Not till
eleven, and then in a thoroughly drenched condition, did they reach the
Morris House on Haarlem Heights. It was to no rest, however, that the
general arrived; for, as he dismounted, Major Gibbs of his life guards
informed him that the council of war he had called was gathered, and
only awaited his attendance.

"Get you some supper, gentlemen," he ordered, to such of his aides as
were still of the party, "for 'tis likely that you will have more riding
when the council have deliberated."

"'Tis advice he might take himself to proper advantage," said one of
the juniors, while they were stripping off their wet coverings in a side
room.

"Ay," asserted Brereton. "The general uses us hard, Tilghman, but he
uses himself harder." Then aloud he called, "Billy!"

"Yis, sah!"

"Make a glass of rum punch and take it in to his Excellency."

"Foh de Lord, sah, I doan dar go in, an' yar know marse neber drink no
spirits till de day's work dun."

"Make a dish of tea, then, you old coward, and I'll take it to him so
soon as I get these slops off me. 'Fore George! How small-clot