- eh?

120

horsemen who had stopped near by, one of whom
was just springing from his horse. They were in
British uniform, and the children at once were sure
what they wanted.

“OQ Arty, Arty!” whispered Dorothy.
come, and we mustn’t tell.”

The man advanced with a smile meant to be
pleasant, but which was in reality so sinister that
the children shrank with a sensation of fear.

“How are you, my little man? Picking berries,
And where do you live?” he asked.

“With mamma,” answered Arthur promptly.

“And who is mamma? What is her name?”

“Mrs. Heath,” said Arty. %

“And don’t you live with papa too?
papa?” the man asked.

Arthur hesitated an instant, and then out it came,
and proudly too. “In the Continental army, sir,”

“They’ve

Where is

“Ho! ho! and so we are a little rebel, are
we?” laughed the man. “And who am I? Do
you know?”

“Yes, sir; a British soldier.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you wear their uniform, sir?”

“You cannot have seen many British soldiers
here,” said the man. “Did you ever see the British
uniform Da 2”

“Yes, sir,” replied Arty.

“And where did you see it?” he asked, slandiag
sharply at Arthur and then at Dorothy. Upon the
face of the latter was a look of dismay, for she had
foreseen the drift of the man’s questions and the
trap into which Arty had fallen. He, too, saw it,
now he was in. The only British uniform he had
ever seen was that worn by the American spy. For
a brief moment he was tempted to tell a lie.
he said firmly, “I cannot tell you, sir.”

“Cannot! Does that mean will not?” said the
man threateningly. Then he put his hand into
his pocket and took out a bright gold la
which he held before Arthur.

“Come, now, my little man,-tell me hae you
saw the British seldien: s uniform, and you shall have
this gold piece.”

But all the noble impulses of the boy’s nature
inherited and strengthened by his mother’s teach-
ings, revolted at this attempt to bribe him. His
eyes flashed. He looked the man full in the face.
“T will not!” said he.

“Come, come!” cried out the man on horseback.

Then —

A HERO.

“Don’t palter any longer with the little rebel. We'll
find a way to make him tell. Up with him!”

In an instant the man had swung Arthur into his
saddle, and leaping up behind him, struck spurs to
his horse and dashed away. Czesar, who had been
sniffing about, suspicious, but uncertain, attempted

to leap upon the horseman.in the rear, but he,

‘drawing his pistol from his saddle, fired, and Cesar

dropped helpless.

The horsemen quickly vanished, and for a moment
Dorothy stood pale and speechless. Then she knelt
down by Cesar, examined his wound—he was shot
in the leg — and bound it up with her handkerchief,
just as she saw Basha do the night before, and then
putting her arms around his neck she kissed him.
“Be patient, dear old Cesar, and Abram shall come
for you?”

Covered with dust, her frock stained with Casar’s
blood, a pitiful sight indeed was Dorothy as she
burst into the kitchen where Basha was preparing
supper.

“OQ mamma, they’ve carried off Arty and shot
Ceesar, those dreadful, dreadful British!”

Between her sobs she told the whole fearful story
to the two women—fearful, I say, for Mrs. Heath
knew too well the reputed character of the British
soldiery, not to fear the worst if her boy should per-
sist in refusing to tell where he had seen the British
soldier’s uniform. But even in her distress she was
conscious of a proud faith that he would not betray
his trust.

As to Basha, who shall describe her horror and
indignation? “The wretchés! ain’t they content to
murder our men and burn our houses, that they
must take our innercent little boys?” and she struck
the spit into the chicken she was preparing for -
supper vindictively, as though thus she should like
to treat the whole British army. ‘“‘The dear little
cretur! what'll he do to-night without his mamma,
and him never away from her a night in his blessed
life. ’Pears to me the Lord’s forgot the Colo-
nies. O dearie, dearie me!” utterly overcome she
dropped into a chair, and throwing her homespun
check apron over her head, she gave way to such
a fit of weeping as astonished and perplexed Abram,
one of whose principle articles of faith it was that
Basha couldn’t shed a tear, even if she tried, “mor’n
if she’s made o’ cast iron.”

It indeed looked hopeless.
after these men and rescue Arthur?

Who was to follow
There was