"Jean, Jean," I cried, now that hope and life had come back with a rush, "Jean, do you know that I love you; that I love the very ground on which you walk, the sunbeams in your hair, the very air you breathe? Ah! Jean—" But at that moment came the voice of the Tory calling her and the tramp of feet on the porch.
"Let me go," she cried, for I held her hands in mine; "and fly,—that is the guard."
"Nay," said I, "not till you give me a kiss. I will stay here and be captured first."
There was a moment's hesitation, and then a flash of white arms, and the softest caress—ah, such a caress that the memory of it will go with me to the grave. And then she was gone.
And I, not wishing to be captured now, slipped through the rear door to my men, and a short time later, having satisfied ourselves of the retreat of the enemy's forces, we made our way back over the hills to report to the General.
We followed the enemy closely the next day, and did not draw off until we saw them beyond our reach at Sandy Hook.
Then we took our way to the Jersey hills, and lay there for a time watching the enemy in New York.