"What
progress could they make here, in their heavy boots and spurs, and long
swords? No, no--they may go back and turn out the foot, but the horse
pass through these defiles, when they can keep the saddle, with fear and
trembling. Come, follow me, Captain Wharton; we have a troublesome
march before us, but I will bring you where none will think of venturing
this night."
So saying, they both arose, and were soon hid from view amongst the
rocks and caverns of the mountain.
The conjecture of the peddler was true. Mason and his men dashed down
the hill, in pursuit, as they supposed, of their victims, but, on
reaching the bottom lands, they found only the deserted horses of the
fugitives. Some little time was spent in examining the woods near them,
and in endeavoring to take the trail on such ground as might enable the
horse to pursue, when one of the party descried the peddler and Henry
seated on the rock already mentioned.
"He's off," muttered Mason, eying Harvey, with fury; "he's off, and we
are disgraced. By heavens, Washington will not trust us with the keeping
of a suspected Tory, if we let the rascal trifle in this manner with the
corps; and there sits the Englishman, too, looking down upon us with a
smile of benevolence! I fancy that I can see it.
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