“Listen, and you shall judge.”
“SIR,—Upon the receipt of this, you will concentrate your squadron, so as to be in front of a covering party which the enemy has sent up in front of his foragers, by ten o’clock to-morrow, on the heights of Croton, where you will find a body of foot to support you. The escape of the English spy has been reported to me, but his arrest is unimportant, compared with the duty I now assign you. You will, therefore, recall your men, if any are in pursuit, and endeavor to defeat the enemy forthwith.”
Your obedient servant,
GEO. WASHINGTON.
“Thank God!” cried Dunwoodie, “my hands are washed of Henry’s recapture;
I can now move to my duty with honor.”
“And with prudence, too, dear Peyton,” said Frances, with a face as pale as death. “Remember, Dunwoodie, you leave behind you new claims on your life.”
The youth dwelt on her lovely but pallid features with rapture; and, as he folded her to his heart, exclaimed,—
“For your sake, I will, lovely innocent!” Frances sobbed a moment on his bosom, and he tore himself from her presence.
Miss Peyton retired with her niece, to whom she conceived it necessary, before they separated for the night, to give an admonitory lecture on the subject of matrimonial duty. Her instruction was modestly received, if not properly digested. We regret that history has not handed down to us this precious dissertation; but the result of all our investigation has been to learn that it partook largely of those peculiarities which are said to tincture the rules prescribed to govern bachelors’ children. We shall now leave the ladies of the Wharton family, and return to Captain Wharton and Harvey Birch.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Allow him not a parting word;
Short be the shrift, and sure the cord!