of the house. During the British
occupation of Philadelphia, when patriots and royalists
alike had to open their mansions to their none too welcome
guests, the Darrah mansion was used as the quarters of the
British adjutant-general. In that day it was somewhat "out
of town," and was frequently the scene of private
conferences of the higher officers, as being somewhat
secluded.

On one chill and snowy day, the 2d of December, 1777, the
adjutant-general appeared at the house and bade Mrs. Darrah
to prepare the upper back room for a meeting of his friends,
which would take place that night.

"They may stay late," he said, and added, emphatically, "be
sure, Lydia, that your family are all in bed at an early
hour. When our guests are ready to leave the house I will
give you notice, that you may let us out and extinguish the
fire and candles."

Mrs. Darrah obeyed. Yet she was so struck by the mystery
with which he seemed inclined to surround the projected
meeting, that she made up her mind to learn, if possible,
what very secret business was afoot. She obeyed his orders
literally, saw that her people were early in bed, and, after
receiving the officers, retired herself to her room, but not
to sleep. This conference might presage some peril to the
American cause. If so, she wished to know it.

When she deemed the proper time had come, she removed her
shoes, and in stocking feet stole softly along the passage
to the door of the apartment where the officers were in
consultation. Here the key-hole served the purpose to which
that useful opening has so often been put, and enabled her
to hear tidings of vital interest. For some time only a
murmur of voices reaches her ears. Then silence fell,
followed by one of the officers reading in a clear tone. She
listened intently, for the document was of absorbing
interest. It was an order from Sir William Howe, arranging
for a secret attack on Washington's camp at Whitemarsh. The
troops were to leave the city on the night of the 4th under
cover of the darkness, and surprise the rebels before
daybreak.

The fair eavesdropper had heard enough. Rarely had key-hole
listener been so well rewarded. She glided back to her room,
and threw herself on her bed. She was none too soon. In a
few minutes afterwards steps were heard in the passage and
then came a rap upon her door. The fair conspirator was not
to be taken unawares; she feigned not to hear. The rap was
repeated a second and a t