Captain Lawton now inquired if a pedlar named Birch did not live in the valley.
"At times only, I believe, sir," replied Mr. Wharton cautiously. "He is seldom here; I may say I never see him."
"What is the offence of poor Birch?" asked the aunt.
"Poor!" cried the captain; "if he is poor, King George is a bad paymaster."
"I am sorry," said Mr. Wharton, "that any neighbour of mine should incur displeasure."
"If I catch him," cried the dragoon, "he will dangle from the limbs of one of his namesakes."
In the course of the morning Major Dunwoodie, who was an old friend of the family, and the lover of Frances, the younger daughter, arrived, took over the command of the troop, and inquired into the case of his friend the prisoner.
"How did you pass the pickets in the plains?" he asked.
"In disguise," replied Captain Wharton; "and by the use of this pass, for which I paid, and which, as it bears the name of Washington, is, I presume, forged."
Dunwoodie caught the paper eagerly, and after gazing at the signature for some time, said, "This name is no counterfeit. The confidence of Washington has been abused. Captain Wharton, my duty will not suffer me to grant you a parole--you must accompany me to the Highlands."