toward him, and a fear of her father's wrath if he learned she made
Ned her correspondent in the matter. Perhaps she added to her gentler
means of persuasion a veiled threat of exposing Meadows to the British
if he refused. In any event, she knew that, once enlisted, he could be
relied on for the strictest obedience to her wishes. It needed not, in
his case, the additional motive for secrecy, that a knowledge of his
employment on Margaret's business would compromise him with General
Washington and Mr. Faringfield.

How Meadows contrived to meet Ned, to open the matter to him, to
convey the ensuing correspondence, to avoid discovery upon this matter
in the rebel camp, as he avoided it upon Washington's business in New
York, is beyond me: if it were not, I should be as skilful, as fit for
such work, as Meadows himself. 'Tis well-known now what marvellously
able secret agents Washington made use of; how to each side many of
them had to play the part of spies upon the other side; how they were
regarded with equal suspicion in both camps; and how some of them
really served their enemies in order finally to serve their friends.
More than one of them, indeed, played a double game, receiving pay
from both sides, and earning it from both, each commander conceiving
himself to be the one benefited. In comparison with such duplicity,
the act of Meadows, in undertaking Margaret's private business as a
secret matter adjunctive to his main employment, was honesty itself.

'Tis thus explained why, though Margaret might communicate with her
brother in the enemy's camp, she got no word from her husband there.
But his thoughts and his wishes had scarce another subject than
herself. The desire to see her, possessed him more and more wholly. He
imagined that her state of mind must in this be a reflection of his
own. Long ago her anger must have died--nay, had it not passed in that
farewell embrace when she held up her face to invite his kiss? The
chastening years of separation, the knowledge of his toils and
dangers, must have wrought upon her heart, to make it more tender to
him than ever. She must grieve at their parting, long for his
home-coming. So convinced was he of such feelings on her part, that he
pitied her for them, felt the start of many a tear in sorrow for her
sorrow.

"Poor girl!" he thought. "How her face would gladden if I were to walk
into her presence at this moment!"

And the thought gave birth to the resolution. Th