turned to flight, leaving Butler in the
midst of his friends.

"God bless you, major!" shouted Robinson, as he rode up to his old
comrade, who, unarmed, had looked upon the struggle with an interest
corresponding to the stake he had in the event. "Up, man--here, spring
across the pommel. Now, boys, down the mountain, for your lives! Huzza,
huzza! we have won him back!" he exclaimed, as seizing Butler's arm, he
lifted him upon the neck of Captain Peter, and bounded away at full
speed towards the base of the mountain, followed by Foster and his
party.

The reader may imagine the poignancy of Mildred's emotions as she sat
beside Allen Musgrove and his daughter on the knoll, and watched the
busy and stirring scene before her. The centre division of the assailing
army was immediately in her view, on the opposite face of the mountain,
and no incident of the battle in this quarter escaped her notice. She
could distinctly perceive the motions of the Amherst Rangers, to whom
she turned her eyes with a frequent and eager glance, as the corps with
which her brother Henry was associated; and when the various fortune of
the fight disclosed to her the occasional retreat of her friends before
the vigorous sallies of the enemy, or brought to her ear the renewed and
angry volleys of musketry, she clenched Mary Musgrove's arm with a
nervous grasp, and uttered short and anxious ejaculations that showed
the terror of her mind.

"I see Mister Henry, yet," said Mary, as Campbell's troops rallied from
the last shock, and again moved towards the summit. "I see him plainly,
ma'am--for I know his green dress, and caught the glitter of his brass
bugle in the sun. And there now--all is smoke again. Mercy, how stubborn
are these men! And there is Mister Henry once more--near the top. He is
safe, ma'am."

"How earnestly," said Mildred, unconsciously speaking aloud as she
surveyed the scene, "Oh, how earnestly do I wish this battle was done! I
would rather, Mr. Musgrove, be in the midst of yonder crowd of angry
men, could I but have their recklessness, than here in safety, to be
tortured with my present feelings."

"In God is our trust, madam," replied the miller. "His arm is abroad
over the dangerous paths, for a shield and buckler to them that put
their trust in him. Ha! there is Ferguson's white horse, rushing, with a
dangling rein and empty saddle, down the mountain, through Campbell's
ranks: the rider has fallen; and there, madam--there, l