“Heyday?” said a kindly voice from the door of the sitting-room, as a fine-looking man dressed in the Continental uniform entered the room.  “Who is it that requires my parental hand, Oliver, and why do you so lament my absence?”

“Father, father!” shrieked Miss Moppet, tumbling out of her chair and flinging her arms around General Wolcott’s neck as he stooped down to embrace her.  “Oh, we’re so glad you are come.  Why didn’t you get here last night?”

“Because I lay over at General Putnam’s headquarters,” said her father.  “Oliver, you will find Captain Seymour and Lieutenant Hillhouse on the porch.  See that their horses be taken and fed, and bid them come to breakfast.”

Oliver disappeared in haste, and Josiah, with an apology to Miss Euphemia, followed him; while General Wolcott, casting off his hat and gloves, seated himself with Moppet on his knee, and Miss Bidwell appeared from the kitchen with fresh reinforcements of breakfast for the newcomers.  Betty, busying herself by fetching cups and saucers from the china pantry, caught fragments of the conversation, and became aware that Miss Moppet was telling the story of her adventure at Great Pond, in the child’s most dramatic fashion, and that Miss Euphemia was also adding her testimony to the tale as it went on.  They were presently interrupted by the entrance of Oliver with his father’s two aids, and the large mahogany table was surrounded by guests, whose appetites bid fair to do justice to Miss Bidwell’s breakfast.

No sooner was the meal fairly under way than Oliver, eager to hear his father’s opinion, began the story of his capture of the day before, and related how and where he had found Captain Yorke, and how safely he supposed he had imprisoned him in the north chamber, from which his clever and ready escape had been made.  Oliver’s narrative was interrupted by exclamations from the officers and questions from his father, who displayed keen interest in the matter.

“Father,” said Moppet, seeing that the most important point had been omitted in Oliver’s story, and venturing to join in the conversation, as few children of that period would have done, “Oliver’s prisoner was my good kind gentleman who pulled me out of the pond, and I am very, very glad he has got away—­aren’t you?”

“I was indeed hard bestead, sir,” burst in Oliver.  “Here were Betty and Moppet insisting that I must let Captain Yorke go free because of his gallant act (which I fully appreciate), and the gentleman refusing his parole because he preferred to take the chances of war, while I felt it my sworn duty to detain him and to forward him to General Putnam without delay, as I know we are in need of exchange for several of our officers now held by Sir Henry Clinton, and this man is of Clinton’s staff, and therefore a most valuable capture.  Was I to blame for retaining him?”

General Wolcott hesitated, but as he was about to make reply his eye fell upon Betty, who confronted him across the table with parted lips and large, beseeching eyes so full of entreaty that he changed the words almost upon his lips.