The farmer flung open the shattered door, and half a dozen sturdy yeomen pushed into the hall, bearing in their arms a motionless form clad in a red coat.
"We just got here in time, Jonas," cried the leader of the party. "The enemy are kitin' for Sandy Hook, with two-thirds of our boys at their heels. We shot three of 'em, but we lost poor Lige Garret. And here's a British officer with a bullet in his breast."
"Put him on the couch in the room yonder, Ruggles," said the farmer.
The wounded man was borne in and laid down, and a pillow was pressed under his head. Nathan and Godfrey, who had drawn near out of curiosity, were startled to recognize Major Langdon.
"It's all up with him," said Ruggles. "I know the signs. A little brandy might make him last longer, though it's a doubtful mercy."
"I'll get some," replied Welfare, hurrying to a closet and producing an earthen jug. A drink of the potent liquor had a speedy and reviving effect on the Major. He lifted his head a little, and opened his glassy eyes. There was blood on the breast of his coat, and a few drops oozed from his lips.
Just then Captain Stanbury came forward, and at sight of the wounded officer he uttered a low cry.
"My good fellows, I wish to speak to this man alone," he said, hoarsely. "Be assured that I have a sound reason. Pray leave us together for a few minutes. Nathan, you remain. And you, too, Godfrey."
All the rest left the room, wondering at the Captain's agitation and request. Welfare, who went last, softly closed the door after him.
For a moment Major Langdon stared silently at Captain Stanbury and the lads, and it was evident that he knew all three. His face was white with pain, but it showed no trace of anger or hatred. In his eyes was a look of unutterable self-reproach and contrition.