AN INCIDENT OF THE REVOLUTION.
During the Revolutionary War, when the American people were fighting for independence, a governor of one of the colonies found himself in great danger of being captured by British soldiers.
The governor, whose name was Griswold, contrived to reach the house of a relative, and while there, was informed that the soldiers had discovered his place of refuge and were then on their way to seize him.
Griswold at once realizing that his peril was imminent, determined, if possible, to reach a small stream, where he had left a boat so hidden, by the foliage that it could not be seen from the road.
In great haste and excitement, he left the house and proceeded in the direction of the river. Passing through an orchard, he encountered a young girl about twelve years old. She was watching some pieces of linen cloth which were stretched out on the grass for the purpose of bleaching.
Hetty—that was the girl's name—was seated under a tree with her knitting, and had near her a pail of water, from which she occasionally sprinkled the cloths to keep them damp.
She started up and was somewhat frightened when she saw a man leaping over the fence; but soon recognized him to be her cousin.
"O, is it you, cousin!" exclaimed Hetty; "you frightened me—where are you going?"
"Hetty," he replied, "the soldiers are seeking for me, and I shall lose my life, unless I can reach the boat before they come. I want you to run down toward the shore and meet them."
"They will surely ask for me; and then you must tell them that I have gone up the road to catch the mail-cart, and they will turn off the other way."
"But, cousin, how can I say so?—it would not be true. O, why did you tell me which way you were going?"
"Would you betray me, Hetty, and see me put to death? Hark! they are coming. I hear the clink of their horses' feet. Tell them I have gone up the road and Heaven will bless you."
"Those who speak false words will never be happy," said Hetty. "But they shall not compel me to tell which way you go, even if they kill me—so run as fast as you can."
"I am afraid it is too late to run, Hetty; where can I hide myself?"
"Be quick, cousin. Get down and lie under this cloth; I will throw it over you and go on sprinkling the linen."
"I will do it, for it is my last chance."
He was soon concealed under the heavy folds of the long cloth. A few minutes afterward, a party of cavalry dashed along the road. An officer saw the girl and called out to her in a loud voice—
"Have you seen a man run this way?"
"Yes, sir," replied Hetty.
"Which way did he go?"
"I promised not to tell, sir."
"But you must tell me this instant; or it will be worse for you."
"I will not tell, for I must keep my word."
"Let me question her, for I think I know the child," said a man who was guide to the party. "Is your name Hetty Marvin?"
"Yes, sir."
"Perhaps the man who ran past you was your cousin?"
"Yes, sir, he was."
"Well, we wish to speak with him. What did he say to you when, he came by?"
"He told me that he had to run to save his life."
"Just so—that was quite true. I hope he will not have far to run. Where was he going to hide himself?"
"My cousin said that he would go to the river to find a boat, and he wanted me to tell the men in search of him that he had gone the other way to meet the mail-cart."
"You are a good girl, Hetty, and we know you speak the truth. What did your cousin say when he heard that you could not tell a lie to save his life?"
"He asked, would I betray him and see him put to death?"
"And you said you would not tell, if you were killed for it."
Poor Hetty's tears fell fast as she responded, "Yes, sir."
"Those were brave words, and I suppose he thanked you and ran down the road as fast as he could?"
"I promised not to tell which way he went, sir."
"O yes, I forgot; but tell me his last words, and I will not trouble you any more."
"He said, 'I will do it, for it is my last chance.'"
Hetty was now oppressed with great fear; she sobbed aloud, and hid her face in her apron. The soldiers thought they had obtained all the information they could, and rode off toward the river-side.
While Griswold lay hidden at the farm, he had agreed upon a signal with his boatmen, that if in trouble he would put a white cloth by day, or a light at night, in the attic window of his place of concealment. When either signal was seen, the men were to be on the watch, ready to render him assistance in case of need.
No sooner had the soldiers ridden away, than Griswold's friends in the house hung out a white cloth from the window, to warn the boatmen, who then pulled out to sea.
The boat, with two men in it, was nearly out of sight by the time the soldiers reached the shore, and this caused them to conclude that Griswold had effected his escape.
Meantime he lay safe and quiet until the time came for Hetty to go home to supper. Then he requested her to go and ask her mother to put the signal-lamp in the window as it grew dark, and send him clothes and food. The signal was seen, the boat returned, and Griswold made his way to it in safety.
In better days, when the war was over, and peace declared, he named one of his daughters Hetty Marvin, that he might daily think of the brave young cousin whose sense and truth-speaking had saved his life.
LESSON LXVI.
con sume', use entirely; exhaust.
cul ti va'tion, attending to the growth of plants.
ex'ports, the products of a country which are sold to other countries.
trans por ta'tion, carrying.
o'val, shaped like an egg.
prin'ci pal, chief; that which is most important.
es'ti mat ed, stated in regard to quantity.
se lect'ed, chosen; picked out.
ter'mi nates, comes to an end.