Occasionally, as he went through the bushes, he stumbled across the victims of the Hessians' fury, and, strange to say, again a feeling of unreality came over him, his mind was so fixed on his own dangerous position.
Watch-fires were on every side. Once or twice he had, unseen, crawled across the beat of a British sentry, and in this way he entered the American lines. In fact, he did not know he was there until he saw the heavy earth-works, and heard a voice exclaim quite close to him:
"New York is lost, but we can whip them in New Jersey, I can promise you."
George knew that voice in an instant. He arose from behind the stone wall along which he had been crawling—for he had long since been in among the houses. "Colonel Hewes!" he said. "Oh, Colonel Hewes!"
The party gathered about the fire in the road-side started.
"Who's there? Who called me?" inquired the one who had been speaking.
"I, George Frothingham," was the reply.