"'No matter 'zackly how, marster, it's them. I'll warrant them's hard plums for a Christmas pudding. Ha! ha! they get it this morning,—them tarnation Hessian niggers!'
"'Ann, thee'll never forgive the Hessians thy sausages and pork.'
"'Forgive—not I. All my nice sausages and buckwheat cakes, ready buttered—and all for them 'are yaller varments.'
"The firing having continued some minutes, though less in volleys than at first, gradually ceased, and all was quiet, as if nothing had happened to disturb the deathlike stillness of the night. Yet, in that brief hall hour, the fate of a continent was decided—the almost desperate cause of the colonies had been retrieved. The victory of Trenton had been achieved.
"The attention of Nathan was diverted, by this first incident, from the other events of the night, but was soon recalled to the pursuit of the robbers, and the relief of their victims, who, from their late prisoner's account, had been left in an unpleasant condition. His men being dispatched to collect aid, Nathan now remained with old Anne; the sole efficient defender of the house. He was not doomed to wait their return undisturbed—the indistinct sound, as of many feet, was heard advancing along the road to Bordentown.
"'It's them Hessians,' said Anne. But Nathan thought not—it was not the tread of regular troops, but the confused rush of a multitude. He hastened to an upper window to reconnoitre. The day had begun to break, and he easily distinguished a large body of men in Hessian uniform, hurrying along the road in broken ranks. As they came nearer, he perceived many individuals half clad and imperfectly equipped. The whole consisted of about six hundred men. Before their rear was lost behind a turn in the road another body appeared in rapid pursuit. They marched in closer order and more regular array. In the stillness of the morning the voice of an officer could be distinctly heard urging on the men. They bore the well-known standard of the colonies. It all flashed on Nathan's mind—Washington had crossed the river, and was in pursuit of the routed foe. The excited old man forgot his years, as he almost sprang down stairs to the open air, proclaiming the tidings as he went. Even the correct Hannah, who had preserved her faith unbroken, in spite of her husband's and sons' contumacy, and the, if possible, still more particular Rachel, were startled from their usual composure, and gave vent to their joy.
"'Well, now, does thee say so?' said the latter, eagerly following the others to the door. 'I hope it is not unfriendly to rejoice for such a cause.'
"'I hope not, cousin Rachel,' said Amy; 'nor to be proud that our boys had a share in the glorious deed.'
"Amy was left to herself, and broke loose upon this occasion from the bonds of Quaker propriety; but no one observed the transgression—except old Anne.
"'That's right, Amy Collins; I like to hear you say so. How them Hessians can run—the 'tarnal niggers; they steal sausages better than they stand bullets. I told 'em it would be so, when they was here beguzzlen my buckwheat cakes, in plain English; only the outlandish Injins couldn't understand their mother tongue. They're got enough swallowen without chawen, this morning. I wish them nothen but Jineral Maxwell at their tails, tickling 'em with continental bagonets.'