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Updated: May 4, 2025
"You should have added, Captain Dunwoodie," cried his careless comrade, "if you could find either; for nearly half our army has marched down the road, and may be, by this time, under the walls of Fort George, for anything that we know to the contrary."
Not so Frances; she returned to the apartment where she had left Dunwoodie, and, from one of its windows, had been a deeply interested spectator of all his movements. The wheelings of the troops, the deadly preparations, had all been unnoticed; she saw her lover only, and with mingled emotions of admiration and dread that nearly chilled her.
He plunged headlong into the thick of the fight, and bore himself as valiantly as the best of the American soldiers. When, in the evening, the order was given to the shattered troops to return to camp, Captain Wharton Dunwoodie found that his lieutenant was missing, and taking a lighted fusee, he went himself in quest of the body.
"This is the man," explained a policeman, "who brought the alarm. He admits himself having been in Tilliedrum just before we started." "Your name, my man?" the sheriff demanded. "It micht be John Dunwoodie," the tinsmith answered cautiously. "But is it?" "I dinna say it's no." "You were in Tilliedrum this evening?" "I micht hae been." "Were you?" "I'll swear to nothing." "Why not?"
For the last year he had been intrusted with the passes into the Highlands, and was now quartered, with his daughter, but a short day's march above the valley where Dunwoodie had met the enemy. His only other child was the wounded officer we have mentioned.
"I am not the commander of the party, madam; Major Dunwoodie will decide what must be done with your brother; at all events he will receive nothing but kind and gentle treatment." "Dunwoodie!" exclaimed Frances, with a face in which the roses contended for the mastery with the paleness of apprehension. "Thank God! then Henry is safe!"
Yes, yes, I should like, even now," he continued, laughing bitterly, "to hear the villain who would dare to surmise that such treachery existed!" "Peyton, dear Peyton," said Frances, recoiling from his angry eye, "you curdle my blood would you kill my brother?" "Would I not die for him!" exclaimed Dunwoodie, as he turned to her more mildly.
"Harper!" echoed Dunwoodie, turning towards her with the swiftness of lightning; "what of him? Do you know him?" "It is in vain," said Henry, drawing him aside; "Frances clings to hope with the fondness of a sister. Retire, my love, and leave me with my friend." But Frances read an expression in the eye of Dunwoodie that chained her to the spot.
"Mutiny, sir, mutiny," cried the other, laughing. "What, you, Tom Mason, dare to rival the gay, admired, and withal rich, Major Dunwoodie in his love! You, a lieutenant of cavalry, with but one horse, and he none of the best! whose captain is as tough as a pepperidge log, and has as many lives as a cat!"
"But has he power," said Frances, "to move Washington's stubborn purpose?" "If he cannot," shouted Dunwoodie, "who can? Rest easy, for Henry is safe."
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