“Damn them!” growled Elerson to Murphy, “they’re advancing without flanking-parties or scouts.  I wish Dan’l Morgan was here.”

“‘Tis th’ Gineral’s jooty to luk out f’r his throops, not Danny Morgan’s or mine,” replied the big rifleman in disgust.

The column halted.  I signalled my men to follow me and hastened along the flanks under a fire of chaff:  “Look at young buckskins!  There go Morgan’s macaronis!  God help the red-coats this day!  How’s the scalp trade, son?”

Herkimer was sitting his horse in the middle of the road as I came up; and he scowled down at me when I gave him the officer’s salute and stood at attention beside his stirrup.

“Veil, you can shpeak,” he said, bluntly; “efery-body shpeaks but me!”

I said that I and my riflemen were at his disposal if he desired leaders for flanking-parties or scouts; and his face softened as he listened, looking down at me in silence.

“Sir,” he said, “it iss to my shame I say dot my sodgers command me, not I my sodgers.”

Then, looking back at Colonel Cox, he added, bitterly: 

“I haff ordered flanking-parties and scouts, but my officers, who know much more than I, haff protested against dot useless vaste of time.  I thank you, sir; I can your offer not accept.”

The drums began again; the impatient Palatine regiment moved forward, yelling their approval, and we fell back to the roadside, while the boisterous troops tramped past, cheering, singing, laughing in their excitement.  Mechanically we fell in behind the Caughnawagas, who formed the rear-guard, and followed on through the dust; meaning to go with them only a mile or so before we started back across country with the news which I was now at liberty to take in person to General Schuyler.

For I considered my mission at an end.  In one thing only had I failed:  Walter Butler was still free; but now that he commanded a company of outlaws and savages in St. Leger’s army, I, of course, had no further hope of arresting him or of dealing with him in any manner save on the battle-field.

So at last I felt forced to return to Varick Manor; but the fear of the dread future was in me, and all the hopeless misery of a hopeless passion made of me a coward, so that I shrank from the pain I must surely inflict and endure.  Kinder for her, kinder for me, that we should never meet again.

Not that I desired to die.  I was too young in life and love to wish for death as a balm.  Besides, I knew it could not bring us peace.  Still, it was one solution of a problem otherwise so utterly hopeless that I, heartsick, had long since wearied of the solving and carried my hurt buried deep, fearful lest my prying senses should stir me to disinter the dead hope lying there.

Absence renders passion endurable.  But at sight of her I loved I knew I could not endure it; and, uncertain of myself, having twice nigh failed under the overwhelming provocations of a love returned, I shrank from the coming duel ’twixt love and duty which must once more be fought within my breast.