There was no Margaret there then to wind her snowy arms around his neck, to tempt him with languishing looks and burning kisses; reason, judgment, conscience, and the high sense of honor and patriotism which had led him to volunteer with Arnold for that trying and disastrous expedition, were rapidly regaining their sway, and freed now from the wiles of the enchantress who had ensnared him, he was fast regaining his self-control.

True, the image of Margaret did rise up before him, and he sighed as he thought of the happiness he might call his own; but the picture had lost something of its brilliancy-it was dimmed by the doubts which his thoughts had woven around it, and he could gaze upon it without a quickening of the pulse, or a brightening of the eye.

How long he had thus mused he knew not, but he was aroused by the clock of Trinity Church, which sounded the hour of eight, and as he counted the strokes, he sprang from his seat, and clenching his hands until the nails almost entered the flesh, exclaimed: "No, by the great God above, never; I love you, Margaret, but I will not sell my soul for you; I will not live, even for your love, to be branded as a traitor. She is safe; thank heaven for that, and she must learn to forget me, as I will her. If she does love me, she will feel prouder of me as I am, than as she would make me; and so farewell, Margaret !"

What more he might have said was interrupted by a

tap at his door, and on opening it, Belle Putnam stood there, and as she saw him, said, "Ma thinks you had better go now for Margaret; she ought to be home by nine o'clock, and it is a great way to Colonel Shee's quarters."

"True, Belle; I had almost forgotten it."

"What, forgotten Margaret ?" she said, archly and with a mischievous look.

"Yes, Belle; I was very deeply engrossed in thought, and the time has passed without my noticing it."

"And what for your thoughts, major ?"

"I was thinking what the next few days might bring forth for all of us," and he spoke with such solemnity, Belle fairly shuddered, for she, too, was in constant terror of an invasion by the British, and presumed that he alluded to that.

"Well, you had better go now, and bring her home." "Certainly; I ought to have been away before,” and seizing his chapeau, he left the room and the house, proceeding leisurely up Broadway, deeply engrossed in thought. He felt that he had seen Margaret for the last time, but derived some consolation in the reflection that she was safe, and that through his assistance.

It was near the hour of nine by the time he had reached the immediate vicinity of Richmond Hill, and a feeling which he could not define, came over him as he remembered that he had promised Margaret to be at the boat by that hour. Crossing out of the road, he

leaned up against the fence, awaiting the striking of the hour which was to place Margaret in safety, and to disenthrall him from the spell which had so strangely bound him to her, in spite of every call of honor, duty, morality or patriotism.

With his face turned toward the water, he was looking over toward the Jersey shore, when he was startled by the report of one musket, followed almost instantly by a volley which seemed to come from the bushes just below Corbie's house, and a short, sharp scream, which rang through the still night air, went to his very heart, for he felt that it came from Margaret.

In another moment, and before he had time to collect his thoughts, a boat swept out from the shade of the trees, and shot directly across the river, propelled by arms which were nerved by the certainty that they were pulling for life or death.

Slowly and sadly Major Burr turned away, almost wishing that the ball which he doubted not had been fatally sped for Margaret, had found him in her stead; but now that the possibility of ever seeing her again, whether she had died thus, or escaped unharmed, was beyond peradventure, he felt a sense of relief, and a new life seemed to be infused into him.

He reached General Putnam's house long after the family had retired, and proceeding to his own apartment, passed the night in meditation, revolving in his own mind the extraordinary occurrences of the past few

days for all here narrated had transpired between the first day of June and the 28th of the same month, in the year 1776, on which day Hickey, the guardsman, was hung. But let us turn again to Margaret, whom we left seated in the boat which was lying in the cove in the rear of Corbie's house, awaiting only the arrival of Major Burr, to push off and make for the Duchess of Gordon.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CONCLUSION.

WE left Margaret and Captain Blanchard seated in the boat, awaiting the arrival of the other party, as yet unknown to the captain, but so anxiously expected by the former, and who was to share the perils and hazards of the night. Margaret had remained silent, engrossed in her thoughts so deeply she seemed almost to have forgotten where she was, or the circumstances which surrounded her, when she was startled by the hand of the captain, laid gently on her own.

"Hist!" he said, raising his finger to his lips, as if to caution her to silence, and in another moment their ears, quickened by the sense of the danger which encompassed them, detected the tread of a body of men coming directly toward the spot where the boat lay concealed beneath the underbrush.

"This way, men," was uttered in loud, commanding tones; "spread yourselves along the bank of the river, and keep both eyes wide open; we'll catch some of these infernal Tory scoundrels yet."

The men in the boat had heard the sound of the soldiers' feet as they advanced gradually toward them,