“How came you adrift in a bateau?” and Alec looked at him searchingly as he spoke.
“The English soldiers, who last night sailed toward the American shore, left me to drown or starve.”
“Left you?” I repeated, not understanding the words. “Do you live on our side of the lake?”
“My home is on the North Foreland, or, as perhaps you call it, Long Point. I offended the soldiers, and they took me with them, counting, as I then believed, to leave me with the Americans. Instead of which I was, shortly before daylight, put into the boat and told to go my way.”
“Then the Britishers were reconnoitring Presque Isle Bay?” Alec asked quickly.
“They went in that direction, as I understood from their words, to see what preparations were being made.”
“Where did they come from?”
“From the North Foreland.”
“How many are there?”
“More than a thousand; and it is said they will march across the United States even into the capital city, Washington.”