et heard how bravely the British charged the third and
successful time up to the rebel works, after being hurled back twice
by a very hell of musketry, she dropped her fork, and clapped her
hands, crying:

"Bravo, bravo! 'Tis such men that grow in England. I could love every
one of 'em!"

"Brave men, I allow," said Philip; "but as for their victory, 'twas
but a technical one, if accounts be true. Their loss was greater than
ours; and the fight proved that Americans can stand before British
regulars."

Margaret paid no more notice than if Philip had not spoken--'twas her
practice now to ignore his speeches not directed to herself alone--and
when he had done, she said, blithely, to one of the young De Lanceys,
who was a guest:

"And so they drove the Yankees out! And what then, cousin?"

"Why, that was all. But as for the men that grow in England, you'll
find some of us grown in America quite as ready to fight for the king,
if matters go on. Only wait till Governor Tryon sets about calling for
loyal regiments. We shall be falling over one another in the scramble
to volunteer. But I mean to be first."

"Good, cousin!" she cried. "You may kiss my hand for that--nay, my
cheek, if I could reach it to you."

"Faith," said De Lancey, after gallantly touching her fingers with his
lips, "if all the ladies in New York had such hands, and offered 'em
to be kissed by each recruit for the king, there'd be no man left to
fight on the rebel side."

"Why, his Majesty is welcome to my two hands for the purpose, and my
face, too," she rattled on. "But some of our New York rebels were
going to do great things: 'tis two months now, and yet we see nothing
of their doings."

"Have a little patience, madam," said Philip, very quietly. "We rebels
may be further advanced in our arrangements than is known in all
quarters."

The truth of this was soon evident. In the open spaces of the
town--the parade-ground (or Bowling Green) outside the fort; the
common at the head of the town; before the very barracks in Chambers
Street that had just been vacated by the last of the royal troops in
New York, they having sailed for Boston rather for their own safety
than to swell the army there--there was continual instructing and
drilling of awkward Whigs. Organisation had proceeded throughout the
province, whose entire rebel force was commanded by Mr. Philip
Schuyler, of Albany; subordinate to whom was Mr. Richard Montgomery,
an Irish gentleman