; he
went from one end to the other of the dreadful field. The horrible
spectacle of mutilation caused him to turn away with shudder and
loathing. What news could the vacant woods, or those festering corpses
lying under the trees, give the lad of his lost brother? He was for
going, unarmed, with a white flag, to the French fort, whither, after
their victory, the enemy had returned; but his guides refused to advance
with him. The French might possibly respect them, but the Indians would
not. "Keep your hair for your lady-mother, my young gentleman," said the
guide. "Tis enough that she loses one son in this campaign."

When Harry returned to the English encampment at Dunbar's it was his turn
to be down with the fever. Delirium set in upon him, and he lay some time
in the tent and on the bed from which his friend had just risen
convalescent. For some days he did not know who watched him; and poor
Dempster, who had tended him in more than one of these maladies, thought
the widow must lose both her children; but the fever was so far subdued
that the boy was enabled to rally somewhat, and get on horseback. Mr.
Washington and Dempster both escorted him home. It was with a heavy
heart, no doubt, that all three beheld once more the gates of Castlewood.

A servant in advance had been sent to announce their coming. First came
Mrs. Mountain and her little daughter, welcoming Harry with many tears
and embraces; but she scarce gave a nod of recognition to Mr. Washington;
and the little girl caused the young officer to start, and turn deadly
pale, by coming up to him with her hands behind her, and asking, "Why
have you not brought George back, too?"

Dempster was graciously received by the two ladies. "Whatever could be
done, we know _you_ would do, Mr. Dempster," says Mrs. Mountain, giving
him her hand. "Make a curtsey to Mr. Dempster, Fanny, and remember,
child, to be grateful to all who have been friendly to our benefactors.
Will it please you to take any refreshment before you ride, Colonel
Washington?"

Mr. Washington had had a sufficient ride already, and counted as
certainly upon the hospitality of Castlewood as he would upon the shelter
of his own house.

"The time to feed my horse, and a glass of water for myself, and I will
trouble Castlewood hospitality no farther," Mr. Washington said.

"Sure, George, you have your room here, and my mother is above stairs
getting it ready!" cries Harry. "That poor horse of yours stu