a pretty fight! Your name and rank, sir?"

"Lieutenant John Seymour, of the American Continental navy, volunteer
aid on his excellency General Washington's staff."

"And what do you here? Are you a prisoner?"

"No, sir, I came with Major Lewis to visit General Mercer, and to look
for my friend, under cover of a flag of truce."

"Ha! How is General Mercer?"

"Frightfully wounded; he cannot live very long now."

"He was a gallant fellow, so I am told, sir, and fought the father of
his majesty in the '45."

"Yes," said Seymour, simply; "this is where he fell."

The general looked curiously about him.

"And who was your dead friend?" he continued.

"Captain Hilary Talbot, of Virginia, of General Washington's staff."

"What! Not Talbot of Fairview Hall on the Potomac?" said one of the
officers.

"The same, sir."

"Gad, my lord, Madam Talbot's a red-hot Tory! She swears by the king.
I 've been entertained at the house,--not when the young man was there,
but while he was away,--and a fine place it is. Well, here 's a house
divided truly!"

"Is it indeed so, Mr. Seymour?"

The young man nodded affirmatively.

"What were you proposing to do with the body?"

"Bury it near here, sir, in the cemetery on the hill by the college.
We have no means of transporting it hence."

"Well, you shall do so, and we will bury him like a soldier. I
remember the family now, in England, very well. Don't they call them
the Loyal Talbots? Yes, I thought so. He was a rebel, and so far
false to his creed, but a gentleman nevertheless, and a brave one too.
Look at the fight he made here, gentlemen! Damme, he shall have an
escort of the king's own troops, and Lord Cornwallis himself and his
staff for his chief mourners! eh, Erskine?" said the gallant earl,
turning to the officer who rode near him.

"How will that suit you, Mr. Seymour? You can tell that to his poor
old mother too, when you see her once again. Some of you bring up a
company of troops and get a gun carriage,--there's an abandoned one of
Mawhood's over there,--and we 'll take him up properly. Have you a
horse, sir? Ah, that's well, and bring a Prayer Book if you can find
one,--I doubt if there be any in my staff. I presume the man was a
Churchman, and he shall have prayers too. We have no coffin for him,
either; but stay--here 's my own cloak, a proper shroud for a soldier,
surely that will do nicely; and now let us go on, gentlemen."

In a short