the
stairs which lead from the garret to the buttery. Once there, all was
easy; I opened the door, and--and--I even offered him the mare, father,
I was in such fear of his recapture; but he stoutly refused to take her.
This is all. If I am a traitor, dear father, punish me as I deserve, but
never think me disloyal to you or to my country."

There was a pause, as Betty's sweet, passionate tones ceased; she stood
with head thrown back, but downcast eyes, as fair a picture us ever
greeted father's eye.

"A loyal traitor, Betty," said General Wolcott slowly; "and I think that
it were well I should look after the condition of my chimneys."

Scarcely daring to believe her ears, Betty looked up, and in another
second she had thrown her arms around her father's neck, sobbing softly
as he caressed her.

"'Twas a daring, mad scheme, my child," said General Wolcott, his own
eyes not quite guiltless of moisture; "but bravely carried out; and
looking at the matter much as you do, I cannot find it in my heart to
censure you. Captain Yorke is doubtless a manly foe, and of such I have
no fear. It shall be our secret, yours and mine, Betty; we will not even
tell Oliver just now, else it might make sore feeling between you. For
Oliver was right, and"--smiling kindly, "so were you. Everything depends
upon the point of view, my daughter; but let me beg you never to try
your hand again to assist the escape of a British officer, or it might
cost me the friendship of General Washington."

"Father, dear father!" cried Betty, overjoyed to find judgment so
lenient accorded her, "I crave your pardon; 'twas alone for Moppet's
sake."

"Aye," said General Wolcott, and then paused a brief second, for his
wife's death, had been the forfeit paid for Moppet's birth, and this was
one reason why the child had become the family idol. "Now run away, for
I must close these papers in time for Oliver, who rides dispatch to Fort
Trumbull to-night. And, Betty," as she stood glowing and smiling before
him "my child, you grow more like your mother every day." and with a
hasty movement General Wolcott turned away to conceal his emotion, as
Betty went quickly from the room.

CHAPTER VI

BY COURIER POST

It had been a wild night, find the morning wind sobbed and sighed
through the elms, which, denuded of their leaves, stood out tall and
bare against the leaden sky, and there was a chill in the air that might
betoken snow. Pamela Wolcott stood in