her eyes were filled with tears; she was pained for her mistress. "If I go I shall be safe, but what will become of you, marm? I am strong, and if a soger goes for to hurt you, marm, I can hit him a lick-but what can you do with that little dillicate hand o' yourn?" " I must trust in Providence, Polly!" said Mrs. Stanley. "Well marm, if you will go on the wagon with me, I'll go, but if you ar goin to stay and trust in Providence, I'll stay and trust too." "But, Polly, it may not be in my power to protect you, and what will you do if Indians come with the enemy?" "I shall be better off than my mistress even then-for I can run for it, and you can't," said she pertly. Mrs. Stanley was silenced. This poor ignorant creature evinced more good feeling and consideration in her pert untutored way, than many a polished lady, who prided herself upon her disinterested friendship and sensibility, might have done. CHAPTER IV. Hour after hour passed away away-still the husband and the father came not-shower after shower came pouring down; the thunder burst in tremendous peals, while the livid lightning still played fearfully along the sky! The force of the storm had in a measure spent itself, when Mrs. Stanley beheld her kind neighbour Mr. S approaching; she flew to the door to bid him welcome-he seized her hand with the most affectionate interest: "Dear, dear madam! why are you still here? I thought you left Plattsburgh last night. Oh! madam, you ought not to be here now-in less than two hours the British may be upon us." She briefly stated to him her situation. "Sad enough," was his reply. "What do you propose to do? you will not remain here? you must not." "If my husband should be detained, which God forbid! I will cast myself upon the protection of the British officers; they are gentlemen, they surely will defend a helpless woman like myself from insult." My dear lady," said he, "you are yet too young; you know little of the world, and less of camps; I dare not trust you to such uncertain protection, and then, observe," said he, "Mrs. Stanley, observe that fortification across the river directly in front of this house." "I do, sir." "On the hill which rises at the extremity of your garden the enemy will in all probability throw up breastworks; every gun in yonder fort is pointed to your dwelling, and the opposite defences will probably be arranged in the same way, and you will find yourelf exposed to the fire of both forts; you may be the victim of the first shot that is fired; I cannot leave you thus, neither can I aid, unless you will consent to share my fortune in an open boat upon this stormy lake; there is a bright moon, although it may be obscured by clouds; I think the night promises to be boisterous; I shall keep before the enemy if possible, but where I shall pass the night is yet uncertain. I shall remain here until the last moment." Mrs. Stanley was very much agitated, and uncertain what she ought to do. Should she go, she might place a barrier between herself and family which would prevent their meeting for a long time, if ever. Should the enemy penetrate into the heart of the country as was apprehended, in the general flight and confusion, she might lose all traces of her dear little family, and they of her. Should her husband return and find his house deserted, in his weak state he would lose his senses, perhaps throw himself into the camp of the invaders, and commit some outrage that would cost him his life. Torn by contending feelings and opinions, poor Mrs. Stanley stood almost motionless. "My God direct me!" she mentally exclaimed, then turning to her friend she extended her hand, her heart was too full to speak; he understood her. "My dear madam," said he, "you know not the danger you brave; I will again look in upon you; you will, you must change your resolution." Little Polly stood, eagerly devouring with open mouth and wide distended eyes every word which fell from the lips of this kind judicious friend, (who alas! has long since done with the tumults and vexations of life,) and as soon as he was gone, she flew to Mrs. Stanley and entreated her to go with him. She fixed her tearful eyes upon the child, to read what was passing in her mind. You poor helpless little thing! thought she, I have no right to expose you to dangers, even were I resolved to brave them myself; and after a little reflection, made up her mind to go in the boat with Mr. S. She must leave a letter, however, where her husband could find it, should he come after they were gone. She stepped into the house to write. The storm had passed; the setting sun streamed across the room, in all its glory through the open casement, and as its parting rays ceased to glimmer over the landscape it seemed to her excited mind as a prelude to a long, long night of misery-her heart swelled"This will not do," she cried, "I must be a woman now! I will hasten and write." She turned to do so, but her writing implements were gone. She sent Polly to Mr. S to get pen, ink and paper-he was in the same predicament with herself-what was to be done? She took a piece of soft pine coal from the fire-place, and writing upon the street door these words, quietly began to prepare herself for her expedition on the water. -" To whom it may concern, Mrs. Stanley, after waiting until nearly dark, has at length embarked in a small boat in company with Mr. S; her friends will find her somewhere on the lake-shore between Plattsburgh and Peru; perhaps on Crab-Island. She is safe and Polly is with her." After writing this notice as legibly as she could, she again seated herself to reflect upon the step she was about to take. She was not satisfied with the plan. Something whispered her that if she left her home, before the return of Dr. Stanley, they would never meet again. Once more she retired to her closet, and implored divine assistance. "Oh! Father in heaven direct me," she again prayed; in the deepest agony of soul she entreated that God would make her duty manifest. These words came into her mind,-"Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart." Yes, thought she, I will wait -in his own good time he will deliver me from these dangers. In her excited state of mind this passage of Scripture appeared to her as a direct expression of the mind of God towards her. She was convinced it was her duty to wait God's appointed time. She came out of her room and told Polly that she should remain; the poor girl looked disappointed, but was silent. Twilight now began to spread its gray mantle around. The sound of the evening gun came booming over the waters, and the roll of the drum pealed upon her ear like the knell of death. The shadows of evening deepened around; the clouds still wore a threatening aspect, and plainly indicated another storm in the course of the night; the stars, however, shone out in all their brightness, except when obscured by transient clouds, and the full moon rose in the eastern hemisphere fitfully bright. Again Mr. S stood on the piazza. "I am now going, my dear madam, and I again entreat you to go with me. Her heart was too full to reply; it seemed as if she was now called upon to separate herself in this hour of peril, from her last, her only friend. She extended her hand, he pressed it with a father's tenderness. He thought of his own daughters, now in safety, the same age, and dear friends of the lonely one he was about to leave exposed to countless dangers. Again he entreated her to go. "I thank you, my friend, God only knows how much I thank you-but, I cannot go; should I do so, I may never see my husband again! If he lives he will come; he will hover round this spot, like a troubled spirit until grief and anxiety terminate the life which fever has spared." At that moment the courier was heard approaching. Mr. Sonce more bade her an affectionate farewell, and hastened into the street to hear the report. The enemy were slowly advancing towards Dead-Creek, where our pickets were placed; he dashed on to camp with his intelligence, while Mr. S, attended by two men, went down the river bank where the boat was moored. Mrs. Stanley and her little Polly seated themselves on the piazza to watch the departure of the boat, and as the sound of the receding oars died on her ear, she felt as if her last hope had expired. Who can paint the desolation of those lonely ones! The girl clung to Mrs. Stanley for protection with as much confidence as a babe to its mother, and as she, (Mrs. S.) became aware of this, the more sensible was she of her weighty responsibilities. The inhabitants had nearly all left the village; the streets were deserted; except some solitary refugee who had been belated in leaving the place, not a citizen remained, not a female except the two desolate beings who were now marking the signs of the times in the gloomy twilight. The sentinels who were stationed for the night were seen pacing backward and forward, their bayonets glittering in the moonlight. Across the river could be seen much of the bustle of preparation, and two or three times Mrs. Stanley thought she saw movements like tearing up the bridge. The Saranac runs in a northerly direction, and as it passes through to the lake, turns to the east, and the village is built on both sides of it, being connected by a bridge. The house of Dr. Stanley was on the north bank, and the camp on the south. There were two bridges, an upper, and a lower, which latter, though not opposite, was in full view of his house. Should they tear up both, how could her husband cross the river? Here was a new source of alarm. She listened to the strokes of the |