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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Spy"


The sun broke forth, on the morning that succeeded this night of
desolation, in unclouded luster, and seemed to mock the petty sorrows of
those who received his rays. Lawton had early ordered his steed, and was
ready to mount as the first burst of light broke over the hills. His
orders were already given, and the trooper threw his leg across the
saddle, in silence; and, casting a glance of fierce chagrin at the
narrow space that had favored the flight of the Skinner, he gave Roanoke
the rein, and moved slowly towards the valley.
The stillness of death pervaded the road, nor was there a single vestige
of the scenes of the night, to tarnish the loveliness of a glorious
morn. Struck with the contrast between man and nature, the fearless
trooper rode by each pass of danger, regardless of what might happen;
nor did he rouse himself from his musing, until the noble charger,
snuffing the morning air, greeted the steeds of the guard under Sergeant
Hollister.
Here, indeed, was to be seen sad evidence of the midnight fray, but the
trooper glanced his eye over it with the coolness of one accustomed to
such sights. Without wasting the moments in useless regrets, he
proceeded, at once, to business.
"Have you seen anything?" he demanded of the orderly.
"Nothing, sir, that we dared to charge upon," returned Hollister; "but
we mounted once, at the report of distant firearms.


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