To this
Arnold would not consent, but retained another son in her place.

Before starting on his errand, Hon Yost's clothing was riddled with
bullets to indicate escape from the Americans. Reaching the camp of the
Indians, he told in a mysterious way of a premeditated attack upon them
and aroused their fears. St. Leger heard of his arrival and questioned
him. To St. Leger he related a touching story of his capture and
miraculous escape from execution, and by signs, words, and gestures
made it appear that he was an emissary of Providence to aid in their
preservation. Canadians, Hessians, all became uneasy. When he was asked
the number of the Americans about to descend upon them, Hon Yost pointed
to the leaves of the trees to indicate a legion. In his efforts to
terrorize he was ably seconded by a young Indian who had accompanied
him. Panic seized the camps. In vain St. Leger strove to allay the
frenzy. The result was precipitate flight.

[Illustration: WHEN HE WAS ASKED THE NUMBER OF THE AMERICANS ABOUT TO
DESCEND UPON THEM, HON YOST POINTED TO THE LEAVES OF THE TREES TO
INDICATE A LEGION.]

It is given by one authority that St. Leger was himself becoming as
apprehensive of his red-faced allies as he was of the enemy he was
fighting.

The fears he had sought to instill in the minds of the garrison were now
returned upon his own head.

THE KNIGHT OF THE SEA

(OUR FIRST EUROPEAN SALUTE)

INSEPARABLY connected with the Stars and Stripes must ever be the name
of John Paul Jones.

The "Untitled Knight of the Sea," the Duchess de Chartres--mother of
Louis Philippe, afterward King of France; and granddaughter of a high
admiral of France--was fond of calling him. For albeit John Paul Jones
was of Scotch peasant ancestry, his associates were people of the
highest intellect and rank. In appearance he was handsome; in manner
prepossessing; and in speech he was a linguist, having at easy command
the English, French, and Spanish languages. His surname was Paul. The
name Jones was inherited with a fine plantation in America.

The call of the sea was strong to the lad and of its dangers he had no
fear. An old seaman one day watched him handle a fishing yawl in a
heavy storm and thought he could never weather the squall. "That is my
son, John," said his father calmly. "He will fetch her in all right. It
is not much of a squall for him." The man complimented the boy and
offered him a berth on his ship then bound