“Is there any probability of movements below, my friend, that will make traveling dangerous?” asked Harper, looking steadily at the other, in expectation of his reply.
Some bunches of ribbons fell from the hands of Birch; his countenance changed instantly, losing its keen expression in intent meaning, as he answered slowly, “It is some time since the rig’lar cavalry were out, and I saw some of De Lancey’s men cleaning their arms, as I passed their quarters; it would be no wonder if they took the scent soon, for the Virginia horse are low in the county.”
“Are they in much force?” asked Mr. Wharton, suspending all employment in anxiety.
“I did not count them.”
Frances was the only observer of the change in the manner of Birch, and, on turning to Harper, he had resumed his book in silence. She took some of the ribbons in her hand—laid them down again—and, bending over the goods, so that her hair, falling in rich curls, shaded her face, she observed, blushing with a color that suffused her neck,—
“I thought the Southern horse had marched towards the Delaware.”
“It may be so,” said Birch; “I passed the troops at a distance.”
Caesar had now selected a piece of calico, in which the gaudy colors of yellow and red were contrasted on a white ground, and, after admiring it for several minutes, he laid it down with a sigh, as he exclaimed, “Berry pretty calico.”
“That,” said Sarah; “yes, that would make a proper gown for your wife,
Caesar.”
“Yes, Miss Sally,” cried the delighted black, “it make old Dinah heart leap for joy—so berry genteel.”