e. We
accordingly turned our horses' heads to the north, intending to cross
the river at a spot a considerable distance above Philadelphia. We had
travelled some miles without meeting anyone from whom we could make
inquiries. I began to be somewhat anxious, fearing that the peasantry
might have concealed themselves in consequence of the approach of an
enemy, and I was on the point of begging Lieutenant Spinks to ride
forward and make inquiries, when a cloud of dust rose up from a valley
before us, and the dull heavy tramp of a body of men was heard ascending
the winding road up the hill. I instantly reined up and drew my
companions on one side, where they were concealed by a small clump of
trees, while I advanced with Spinks a little way in front, each of us
waving a white handkerchief, to show that we were there with no hostile
intent.

"They are the enemy!" cried Spinks. "Oh, the villains! May they all
be--"

"Which enemy?" I asked, forgetting for a moment that he was an
American.

"The scoundrel Hessians," he answered with an oath. "They are the last
people I would wish to have met."

I agreed with him, but there was no time to be lost, as we could
distinguish the advanced guard with their glittering arms and dark
uniforms coming over the brow of the hill. No sooner were we perceived
than several men advanced at double quick step and surrounded us. We
could not make ourselves understood, so, holding Sir Peter Parker's
letter in my hand, and pointing to my uniform, I signified that I wished
to be conducted to their colonel. By this time a halt was called. A
light company was sent out as skirmishers into the wood through which we
had passed, and the officer I asked for rode up in front. He looked at
my naval jacket, and then at the militiaman's uniform, and evidently
regarded us with no little suspicion. I found, however, that he could
speak English, and I endeavoured rapidly to explain matters.

"A very odd story this you tell me," he answered. "How can you expect
me to believe you?"

I handed him Sir Peter's letter.

"I do not know his handwriting. This may be a forgery," said he. The
colonel was a weather-beaten, stern, wary old man. I have seldom met a
person less likely to be moved by any of the gentler sympathies of our
nature.

"I'll tell you what it is, colonel. I was left for dead, near New York,
by some of your people, and this sea-officer here came up and saved my
life, and tha