“When she reached home, all was as dark and silent as when she left; and when she peeped out again from her room, there was the guard nodding as before; but not really asleep. He hadn’t heard a sound. Poor fellow, the British Colonel and the rest were going to have him shot for sleeping at his post, when, next morning, they found the prisoners had gone and the horses too. How furiously angry they were! But, oh, the uncle! his eyes flashed lightnings, and his voice was like the thunder. Kate was wakened by his raging and storming, with all the black people up before him to be cross-questioned, and they declaring that ‘O massa, dey wouldn’ a-helped dem rebel trash away fur nuffin in de hull worl’!’ If they had, their lives wouldn’t have been worth much. Kate knew that, or she might have asked some of them to assist her. She meant to bear all the blame herself.”
“Wasn’t she a trump, though!”
“Yes, Harry; but she trembled like a leaf all the time, dressing herself in a hurry, and rushing out to confess before them all, and plead for the sentinel’s life. ‘Oh, he wasn’t a bit to blame! he didn’t go to sleep at all, for she looked to see! We were so still about it that, oh, he couldn’t hear! and oh, don’t kill him, don’t!’ And then she almost fainted away. But the angry old uncle was angrier than ever. He ordered her to her room, and never to show her face again. But just at this point, when all is clamor and confusion, and the poor, pale, frightened girl is being dragged off in disgrace to her chamber, the house is suddenly surrounded by the combined forces of Greene and Morgan (for they met yesterday, and have been nearer by all the time than was supposed), and led by the American Captain whom she released last night, in walks General Greene himself, to thank her for her brave deed; and when she is led to the window, all those soldiers—ragged, weak with hunger, as they are, footsore and weary with continual marching—at the sight of her, just toss up their hats (those of them who have any) and cheer, and cheer, and cheer. And the British Colonel and his men are prisoners themselves in about two seconds—”
“Oh, jolly!”
“And the mad old Tory uncle’s wine-casks have to be tapped again, while the rebel army there before his eyes drinks to his niece’s health.”
“Jolly, jollier, jolliest!”
“You might suppose there wasn’t enough to go around; but you must remember that it was not such a very big army. How large should you say, Walter?”
“Probably not a larger number than would be included in two what in our last war were considered good-sized regiments. Hardly that, for I believe Greene left quite a force behind at his post on the Pedee river, when he pushed across country to join Morgan; and his whole command united couldn’t have amounted to more than two thousand.”