"Then the city is to be really evacuated?"
"Yes, lad; the word is for the last of the Britishers to cross the river at Gloucester Point at daylight on the morning of the seventeenth. I allow it's time for you to come into town, if you want to see what's going on, for they will pay no attention to you from this out. Your mother is expecting us there 'twixt now and sunrise."
"Did you tell her what General Washington said to me?"
"I did, lad, and if there's a prouder woman in Pennsylvania than she I don't know where to find her. Unless you've got some reason for not going at once we'll leave now, because I'm not counting on missing any part of the show, and allow you're quite as eager to see it as I am."
Enoch would have been pleased to leave the farmhouse even though he had had no anticipation of such a spectacle as must of necessity be presented when the English troops filed out of the city they had so long occupied, and no delay was made by Greene in retracing his steps.
Although it was not expected the enemy would take any very great precautions to prevent undesirable visitors on this the eve of the evacuation, Greene did not think it quite prudent to attempt to ride into town, therefore set out on foot.
"It will be the last time we shall have to sneak into Philadelphia, lad," the spy said exultantly when they were on the road. "I don't allow that from this out the enemy will ever again have possession of the town, for what we've got now we'll hold."
Enoch was too greatly excited to carry on any conversation just at this moment.
It seemed to him as if he had been absent from home an exceedingly long time, and he was not only eager to see his mother, but to tell her of the praise he had won from the "only man in all the country" to him.
Greene, however, was inclined to be garrulous. He told stories of his army life; related incidents regarding this officer or that, and, finding he was not attracting his companion's attention, changed the subject abruptly by saying: