Wounded as many were, and fatigued as were all of the invading party, it was obvious that they would follow each other, like the Curiatii, at considerable intervals, and as their strength permitted. Thus, while some companies were entering Boston, and felicitating themselves on their escape, others were still ten miles back, dragging themselves on through the fire of their merciless enemies. It was only on occasions when attempts were made to intercept their progress that the British veterans did anything like justice to their high reputation. Then, charging with the fury of despair, they broke their way with such tremendous havoc, that the provincials would rarely venture again to dispute the road. Whenever it happened, however, the glitter of the British muskets as they made the preliminary movements of 'ready' and ' aim,' was generally sufficient to clear the way without having recourse to the third order.

At length they reached a spot where, from appearances, there had been a fierce struggle. At the foot of a long hill, piled upon each other in dust and blood, and in the sloughs on either side of the way, lay more than sixty slain who wore the livery of the British king.

At this' dreadful sight, our fugitives halted, and looked wildy at each other, and then desperately rushed up the hill. To their great joy, on another hill, one mile ahead, they descried a column of their troops just disappearing in a thick wood through which the road passed. But scarcely had they made this observation, when the wood was lighted with the blaze of three hundred muskets, and, the next moment, as many men sprung into the road, and with loud cries the whole vanished down the opposite declivity,' pursuers and pursued.'

Here then, was a case of new difficulty for our heroes. Hundreds of enemies were between them and the main body of their troops, and to effect a junction with them was therefore next to impossible.

It wanted but a few minutes to sunset, on the day already quoted, when two men apparently much fatigued, threw themselves on the bank of a brook, several miles south of the Boston and Lexington road. The young grass afforded them a grateful couch, and the free waters of the brook, swollen to the green brim, went joyously on its course to the sea. A small grove of oaks, round the eastern skirts of which the brook wound its way, showed as yet no symptoms of awakening vegetation. Apparently unconscious of the mystic agency which had already called forth from the ground humble but beautiful signs of life, the setting light of day streamed through their bare and rugged branches coldly as winter. But nature was at work, in the air and in the earth; and the sap was concocting, and flowing upwards, like life blood, into those gigantic vegetables;

just like the revivifying spirit of freedom, which, however invisible and mysterious its course, was then flowing from the same maternal earth into the heart of every son and daughter it reared and nourished. The spot here described was not so far from the Lexington road but that, at intervals, the sound of cannon and heavy volleys of musketry would reach it upon the evening breeze, announcing that the pursuit was not yet over; but they produced no effect upon the men who rested by the brook. Their whole appearance bespoke extreme fatigue and exhaustion. Their guns and accoutrements were thrown carelessly down, as if, like the heroes of sacred writ who smote their enemies till their hands clove to their swords, they could no longer handle them. Their hands and garments bespoke the bloody work in which they had been engaged. Both were men of extraordinary size and wore the common dress of American farmers. But in one, who was a fine youth of some five or six and twenty years, the strength was distributed so justly throughout the whole frame that one was at a loss whether to pronounce him an Apollo or a Hercules. His features too, though now haggard with fatigue, were noble and expressive of great decision; and his large black eye, as he lay extended on his back, was turned to the evening sky with a light in them that seemed unquenchable. His companion, however, was built entirely after the Egyptian order, altogether for strength and durability. Somewhat older, and some inches shorter than his companion, he was nevertheless much heavier, his body being throughout of the same size like a rice cask, save when his shoulders spread almost to the magnificent dimensions of Paddy Carey. His head was strictly Boeotian, his dress coarser than the other's and his tout ensemble bespoke a person two or three notches lower on the graduating scale of society. Thus they lay by the brook, too much fatigued even for conversation; and it was now dusk and the frosty dews of an April evening were falling, when a faint sound came from the west, like a distant volley.

*

'Did you hear that, Joab?' said the youth, starting to his elbow, it is some of our folks returning to the valley, and just letting off their guns, by way of rejoicing.'

'Our people are neither knaves nor fools to burn powder for nothing after such a day's work, and when we are likely to need every kernel we have.'

'But that firing was at the valley, that's sartain,' said Joab, rolling over like a huge ox and getting up.

"There's no denying it,' said the other, rising also, and collecting his arms, 'there's no denying that; and there is the mystery. However, gather up your accoutrements, and we will soon know what it means.'

* "His brawny shoulders four feet square." Old Song.

A cloud of smoke, at this moment, rose from behind the trees in the west. 'Hasten, Joab! cried Edward, leaping the brook, and striking into the grove already noticed. Joab followed with a bound that made the bank shake again, and both vanished among the

trees.

'Now we breathe again,' said Lieutenant Eglestone, as, after a skulking march of half an hour through the pines, his party emerged into a road.

'Whew!' said Gordon, wiping his fiery countenance, and fanning himself with his cocked hat, 'tis very hot.'

'Well, here you can cool at your leisure,' said Eglestone, 'see, no traces of fight-no signs of the enemy-men all out on the Lexington road-nobody at home to entertain us but the women.'

Vive l'amour,' shouted Gordon, springing from the fence where he had seated himself, 'let's be moving.'

You would hardly have known them for the same men, who an hour before were running before the enemy. The craven fear which had driven them from Concord, was supplanted by a feeling of security; and they soon waxed bold enough to resume those acts of wanton depredation, which had already stamped them infamous. Here was not the freezing solitude of Concord, for the women and children saw them from their doors and windows, and shrieked and fled. Nothing raises the courage of cowards so much as the shrieks of helplessness. They followed with loud shouts, entered the houses, dashed the windows and furniture, pricked the children with their bayonets, and chased the shrieking women from cellar to garret.

Sunset brought them to the entrance of a considerable valley, through which in beautiful meanders glided a small stream of water. At the farther end of the valley rose a village spire, and some dozen or twenty chimnies; and nearer, on a little eminence, stood an elegant white house by itself. The buildings they had passed during the last hour, had all been of the common order of farm houses, of that period; long, narrow buildings, facing the south, sometimes two stories in front, but invariably one in the rear, where the roof approached within a few feet of the ground, to serve as a barrier against the strong northwesters. They had found little in buildings of this sort worthy a gentleman's pocket or knapsack, as Gordon expressed it. But this looked encouraging, and cupidity was on tiptoe. Large and square, it rose in the centre of the valley, with a certain aristocratical air, closely associated in the minds of our heroes with rouleaus, caskets, and chests of plate. The stream wound gracefully round the little knoll on which it stood, fringed with willows, now in the first yellow dress of spring; and extensive gardens and orchards in the rear, and ornamental trees and shrubbery in front, suggested

to the imagination what might be the charms of the place a month later.

Colonel Downer, the owner of 'The Willows,' as this seat was called, was a gray headed veteran of the French wars. He had been at the taking of Louisburg, had bled with Wolfe on the heights of Abraham, and had been fellow soldier of Amherst throughout his brilliant career of victories; thus helping to win an empire for the unnatural mother who was now inflicting such deep wrongs upon her offspring. The natural influence of service and reward had attached him warmly to the British arms and numerous officers in the army. He bore the commission of the British king, and, in a just cause, would have cheerfully died in his service. But he was an enlightened and a high-spirited man, and knew right from wrong; and moreover he loved his own willows more than the whole island of Britain. Thus, while he might still have held his commission as a king's officer, he chose rather to be denounced as among the most violent of the rebels of Massachusetts Bay. That he deserved such a character from the British authorities, he had that day proved. He had led forth a hundred men to pursue and harass the enemy, on their retreat from Concord, and had continued the pursuit till he reached the banks of Charles river. At the time when Eglestone's party came in sight of the Willows, Col. Downer, accompanied by a few of his neighbors, had just returned from the field, having left his son with the men of the valley, still in pursuit of straggling parties of the enemy.

Late in life, Col. Downer had married an amiable lady, who had been deceased many years, leaving him only this son and a daughter. To all appearance, Isabella Downer was as gentle a daughter of Eve, as ever wept for joy or sorrow. But few can tell the might that is hidden in the deep soul of woman, or what she will dare when pressed by the master passions of love or revenge. An angel of peace and love, as she is, when the sunshine of honor is coming in upon her heart, the page of history bears record that she can revenge. If subsequent events should reveal a passion like the last in Isabella Downer, in justice, we must say, that it had never yet showed itself; and that its exhibition, at any period prior to the date of this narration, would have caused as much surprise, as lightning from the unclouded sky. Spirit she did not lack, but this and other sterner qualities which she inherited from her father, lay dormant in the hidden depths of her soul, and over them flowed, bright and perennial, the angel virtues of her mother. Such was the being who now met the old man at the door, and would have fainted in his arms for very joy of his safe return, had not tears come to her relief.

Bless thee, my child!' said the Colonel, thou hast had a dreary time of it.'

Dreary indeed, and long were the hours she had spent listening to the din of battle, as it rolled along the distant horizon like the muttering of a storm; ignorant of the fate of those dearest to her.

'Edward? father;' said the anxious girl.

'He is safe, we are all safe,' said he, and, thank God, this valley is yet holy ground; for dreadful things have been done upon the Concord road.'

Alas! even then the serpent was entering his paradise. Unfortunately for Col. Downer, his friends after partaking of some refreshment, had been gone long enough to reach the village, and he had but just time to hurry the fainting Isabella to an upper chamber, and to plant himself at the head of the stairs with a loaded pistol in each hand, when the band of ruffians burst into the hall.

'God save king George,' shouted Eglestone.

'God save king Cupid,' cried Gordon.

Vive l'amour! shouted two or three at once, springing to the stairs; but at sight of the menacing figure of the Colonel they recoiled.

'What is your pleasure? the old gentleman calmly demanded.

'Oh, we have only a curiosity to inspect your chambers,' said Gordon, with the affected non chalance of a bully.

'A fine house you have here, old gentleman;' and he again put his foot on the stair, but the click of the pistol, as the Colonel cocked it, made him spring several paces backward.

'If booty is your object,' said the Colonel, 'you will find enough to satisfy you below: take it, and depart, in God's name; but on your lives, attempt not to mount these stairs.'

'And have you no choice jewel stowed away above?' said Egle

stone.

'None, upon my honor;' said the Colonel, interpreting him literally.

Your honor!' said Gordon, with a sneer; honor on this side the water!' and a brutal peal of derision rang through the hall. 'Eglestone,' cried Gordon on! on! by St. George, the prize shall be mine.'

'Hold!' shouted Downer desperately, 'he that first plants foot on the step dies.'

The men again hesitated, but from their intelligent looks it was evidently not now altogether from fear. The colonel suspected he knew not what, and looked behind him. A few paces in his rear was a door, and a soldier, who had slyly ascended the back stairs was cautiously opening it. With a shout that shook the house, the whole band sprung forward. Rendered desperate, the colonel discharged a pistol to the right and left, and the body of Eglestone rolled down the stairs. A shriek burst from an adjoining apartinent; but before