Well, a comrade in suffering has a
claim on a man,--so I'll make the best of it."
As he concluded this soliloquy, the trooper took a seat and began to
whistle, to convince himself how little he cared about the matter, when,
by throwing his booted leg carelessly round, he upset the canteen that
held his whole stock of brandy. The accident was soon repaired, but in
replacing the wooden vessel, he observed a billet lying on the bench, on
which the liquor had been placed. It was soon opened, and he read: _"The
moon will not rise till after midnight--a fit time for deeds of
darkness."_ There was no mistaking the hand; it was clearly the same
that had given him the timely warning against assassination, and the
trooper continued, for a long time, musing on the nature of these two
notices, and the motives that could induce the peddler to favor an
implacable enemy in the manner that he had latterly done. That he was a
spy of the enemy, Lawton knew; for the fact of his conveying
intelligence to the English commander in chief, of a party of Americans
that were exposed to the enemy was proved most clearly against him on
the trial for his life. The consequences of his treason had been
avoided, it is true, by a lucky order from Washington, which withdrew
the regiment a short time before the British appeared to cut it off, but
still the crime was the same.
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