Dismounting from his horse and giving it in charge of a soldier, Lieutenant Walden walked along the trench, looked over the embankment upon the British troops landing at Moulton’s Point and forming in two columns, one of which, he concluded, was intending to march along the Mystic to gain the rear of the redoubt and cut off the retreat of those within it. If such were the contemplated movement it would be mainly against the regiments of Stark and Reed. The other body of troops seemed to be forming to advance directly upon the redoubt.
While he was thus gazing, a hand clasped his arm; turning, he beheld Tom Brandon.
“I’ve been wondering if you wouldn’t be round here somewhere,” said Tom.
“And I have been wondering where you would be,” Robert replied.
“And so you are a lieutenant?” queried Tom, looking at the epaulet on his shoulder. “I congratulate you.
“The whole family are on the roof to see the battle,” he continued.
“Perhaps you can bring them a little nearer with my telescope,” said Robert, handing him the instrument.
Tom rested it on the embankment and looked towards the house.
“There’s a crowd of ’em on the roof,” he said, “father, mother, and Berinthia. There’s a man with a white wig,—Mr. Newville, I guess; and there’s a girl talking with Berinthia—Ruth Newville.”