bourhood, and of seeing Arnold, after remaining some days in a complete state of security, return with his army slowly and leisurely to the sea-shore. Champ continued to be Edgar's constant guard, but a strict watch was kept on both by the army, and they had the uncomfortable prospect of the one remaining in a service which he abhorred, and the other being transferred to a prison-ship.

Meanwhile, General Phillips had arrived at Portsmouth, where Arnold and the British army were entrenched, with powers to supersede the traitor in his command. Great was the joy of the British forces at the change; for, although the talents and bravery of Arnold were known, yet, as they had been abused in the cause of treachery, they despised him, and nought save policy, had prevented their rising in rebellion against his appointment. But, to Edgar Thornhill the departure of the traitor was a cause of sincere regret; he had fondly hoped that some chance would occur to place the villain in his power, and it was this hope which had prevented his taking such active measures to escape, as he would have done under other circumstances. Champ's joy at Arnold's removal, was in proportion to the other's regret; for, while he remained under the traitor's command, he was wearing the cord of death around his throat; something might have easily occurred to reveal the object of his desertion.

Shortly after General Phillips had taken command, with the greater part of the British army, he repeated Arnold's expedition of plunder and desolation upon the James and Appomatox rivers. Hav

ing embarked from Portsmouth with the greater part of his troops in vessels, he successively visited every place on the two rivers, where any thing remained from former destruction. York Town, afterwards the scene of ruin and disgrace to the British Commander in Chief, City Point, Petersburg, Osborne's, Manchester and Bermuda Hundred, were visited in turn, and every thing which could be destroyed and burnt in those places, suffered accordingly. It was after Phillips had performed a routine of this kind of warfare; after having penetrated through every section of country without any molestation, and after he had again returned to Petersbug for the purpose of joining Lord Cornwallis, that some little remission of severe vigilance towards Edgar Thornhill, was at length afforded him. The soldiers and officers of the British army, intent upon the great events which were in agitation between the two grand armies commanded by Cornwallis and Washington, thought it beneath their dignity to show distrust and fear towards a single prisoner. His friend Champ had also been slowly and cautiously procuring an extension of his liberty, until at length the young soldier was allowed to walk perfectly free within the line of sentinels, and the long wished for opportunity of devising plans of escape, was at last afforded him.

It was upon the day previous to the junction of the two armies, that Champ came to the tent which Edgar occupied, and informed him that every thing was arranged for their escape upon that night. He had been appointed sentry at a particular point,

and after night it was necessary that Edgar should "put on the disguise of a British soldier, and there cautiously join him. He furthermore informed Edgar that friends would be waiting to receive him upon the outside of the lines, in whose care he should place him, as it was his own intention to proceed at once to the South, and join his beloved Legion. Edgar eagerly enquired who the friends were that awaited them, but the soldier would give him no satisfaction, and bluntly told him that it were best to secure the chances of escape before thinking of other matters. So saying, he gave the prisoner a bundle containing the requisite disguise, and having appointed a particular hour for meeting, left him. The time now hung heavily upon Edgar's hands; he counted the hours which preceded the approach of night, with the most excruciating anxiety, and when the time for his perilous attempt approached, his heart beat high with intensity of hope, and schemes of future happiness and glory again flitted through his mind.

The camp-fires had been lighted, and the deep challenge of the sentinel, at times heard breaking upon the stillness of the night, announced that the hour of escape was at hand, when the young soldier threw off his cavalry dress, and hastily equipped himself in the disguise which had been left him by his friend. To his great relief, he found within the folds of the garment, a small dirk, evidently left him by Champ, for the purpose of removing any obstacle which he might encounter in the shape of an enemy. Having placed the weapon carefully in his

bosom, he sallied forth boldly and carelessly through the different bodies of troops which were moving about the encampment, towards the spot which Champ had designated as his post. Divers times was he interrupted by questions and salutations from the different individuals whom he met, who, however, not suspecting his real character, allowed him to pass without molestation. He at length reached the high bank, immediately jutting upon the beach which led to the river, and near to the bridge over the Appomattox, when, amidst the gloom of the night, he recognized the portly form of his friend Champ. The recognition appeared to be mutual; for the soldier, looking cautiously around him, advanced a few steps, and awaited Edgar's approach. When he had gotten within reach, Champ grasped him cautiously by the arm, and told him in a whisper to descend the bank and wait until he could find an opportunity to join him. Edgar accordingly followed the advice thus given him, and having seated himself upon the grass at the water's edge, he awaited Champ's arrival with the utmost impatience and anxiety.

At length the soft tread of bis friend, slowly descending the bank, aroused him from a deep reverie into which he had fallen. They walked cautiously side and side down the beach, until they had gotten past the extreme limits of the enemy's lines, when, upon a signal given by Champ, they proceeded at a very rapid run for some distance. At last they arrived at an open level upon the bank of the river, where Edgar saw several persons with horses, apparently awaiting their approach. Edgar's heart beat high

as he drew near and saw among the party a female figure closely enveloped in a large mantle. His hopes led him strongly to believe that it could be but one person, and she his beloved Flora. His doubts were soon removed, as upon a signal which was exchanged between Champ and one of the party, he found himself in the presence of Flora Summers herself, accompanied by Gilbert Drumhead and his son Dan. Rapturous was the short interview between the happy pair, and they were willing to have indulged in a lengthy conversation upon the late unfortunate events, which had caused them such distress and anxiety, but they were suddenly interrupted by the deep rolling of drums, and the report of a field-piece, which was borne upon the night breeze like the burst of distant thunder. "They have discovered our escape," exclaimed Champ, "and the sooner you can make your escape, the better." 66 Right," said Drumhead, sen'r. “I had as lieve be caught between a crab's claws any time, as by them British light-horse. Come, Danny, fasten the straps of the saddles, and let's be off." "Farewell, my deliverer," exclaimed Edgar to Champ, as he saw the soldier preparing to leave them. "I would persuade you to go with us, but for the danger of your staying in this country. But, should misfortune ever come to your door, forget not that you have one friend who will share his last mite with you." "Farewell," echoed the lovely Flora, "farewell gallant soldier; may the God of battles protect you, and bless you for the disinterested act which you have done in restoring to a heart-broken mother her