"The first object that struck his view was a British soldier. In a moment his ears were saluted with, 'Is there any rebel officer here?' in a thundering voice.
"Not waiting for a second word, Tilly darted like lightning out at the front door, through the yard, bolted o'er the fence. Swamps, fences, thorn-hedges and ploughed fields no way impeded his retreat. He was soon out of hearing.
"The woods echoed with, 'Which way did he go? Stop him! Surround the house!' Lipscomb had his hand on the latch, intending to attempt his escape. Stoddard, acquainted him with the deceit.
"'Major Stoddard,' said I, 'Go call Tilly back. He will lose himself,—indeed he will.' Every word interrupted with a Ha! Ha!
"At last he rose and went to the door and what a loud voice could avail in bringing him back, he tried.
"Figure to thyself this Tilly, of a snowy evening, no hat, shoes down at the heel, hair unty'd, flying across meadows, creeks and mud holes. Flying from what? Why, a bit of painted wood.
"After a while our bursts of laughter being less frequent yet by no means subsided; in full assembly of girls and officers, Tilly entered.
"The greatest part of my responsibility turned to pity. Inexpressible confusion had taken entire possession of his countenance, his fine hair hanging dishevelled down his shoulders, all splashed with mud, yet his fright, confusion and race had not divested him of his beauty. He smiles as he trips up the steps, briskly walked five or six steps, then stopped and took a general survey of us all.
"'Where have you been, Mr. Tilly?' asked one officer. (We girls were silent.)
"'I really imagined,' said Stoddard, 'that you were gone for your pistols. I follow'd you to prevent danger,' an excessive laugh at each question, which it was impossible to restrain.