The first person we met on arriving in front of Colonel Henry's house was our old friend, Major Bullbeggor.

"I am feeling pretty peart, Mr. Judkins," he replied, in answer to my greeting. "That little punch Harrison gave me is almost well, and besides a slight twitching of the bones and some little stiffening of the joints, with a little pain shooting through them, I am feeling fine, sir. Yes, sir, feeling like a bird, sir. But where on earth did you get that English sword, and what brought you and your mother here so soon? Dunmore, for sure. No fear! The rascal passed down the river this morning and I don't think he will try coming up again. But what can we do without ships or guns? We gave them a dusting on the island, the other day, and lost poor Jim Horn and three niggers before leaving. Bullet and I had a hard time to get out, and Snake took a slight hurt."

"Yes, I heard all about it," I answered. And then Barron and I told how we were captured and taken aboard the vessels, and how Harrison had served my people at the Hall while we were absent.

The Major's eyes flashed as we told the story and his hand went nervously to his sword hilt. "I didn't hit him hard enough," he said fiercely, when we had told of the actions of the soldiers at the Hall.

While we continued speaking, we were interrupted by an uproar which arose from the street beyond the college, and on looking in that direction from which the sounds proceeded we suddenly saw the figure of a man, covered completely from head to foot with feathers, come running along the pavement towards us. Behind him came a howling mob, armed with every conceivable sort of weapon, and they pressed closely upon the runner's heels. The fugitive stopped suddenly in front of me and spoke out—

"If you'll give me that sword of mine for a few minutes, I think I might show these fools the absurdity of playing their infernal games upon one of his Majesty's soldiers," he said coolly, and I instantly recognized the voice of the corporal who had engaged us so hotly the day before. He was almost completely hidden under his coat of tar and feathers, and the only part of his face visible was his nose and eyes.

Barron and the Major burst into uncontrollable laughter, in which I joined.

But the man's tormentors were upon him before I had even time to consider his proposition. They surrounded him and began prodding him with sticks and bayonets, shouting and jeering in derision.

Bullbeggor was the first of us to recover himself. He drew his sword and struck his spurs into his powerful mare, making her spring forward through the crowd. He knocked down several men in his path and reined up alongside the prisoner.

"Disperse!" he roared. "Break away!" And he struck some of the men nearest him with the flat side of his blade. Barron and I spurred forward and joined him, for the natives were waxing furious at this interruption and I noticed one man bringing his musket to his shoulder. The Major saw the fellow in time to avert disaster, and he leaned forward and smote the weapon so strongly that it fell from the scoundrel's hands. Then we closed around the prisoner with our swords sweeping at arm's length, and the Major thundered forth orders for the men to disperse, threatening them with all sorts of military punishments if they did not.

But these wild men had no idea of discipline, and feared nothing, so they still crowded sulkily around us, brandishing their weapons and cursing us heartily for interfering with their sport.

The uproar had been heard at headquarters, and Colonel Henry appeared on the verandah accompanied by Colonel Bullet, Woodford, and some other officers. Colonel Woodford roared out orders, and some of the men about us turned to see who our new ally was. Then they suddenly recognized Patrick Henry, as he stood there in his waistcoat on the verandah.

There was something in the calm dignity of Colonel Henry's manner that arrested all the fierceness of these rough men's passions and drew attention to him as the magnet draws soft iron. He stood there on the verandah and held out his hand over that wild mob, and spoke, and in less than half a minute every man was silent and listening.

I cannot recall the words that fell from the lips of that grand orator, and when I think of him standing there speaking, it seems to me it was not the words at all that affected me, but the deep power of the man's nature.

I have heard men speak to men in my time, and have listened to some of the eloquent words of those who have made history; but nothing I ever heard compared to the power and force of those words that fell from the lips of that plain and uncouth officer standing there on the verandah of that house in Williamsburg.

He spoke to that mob of honor and manhood, and of the grand things of war, and bade them remember that mercy to a fallen enemy showed the difference between a coward and a man.

When he finished there was not one of that ruffian crowd who looked squarely at his neighbor, and two minutes afterwards there were not six of them in sight.

The only person there who appeared in no way affected by Patrick Henry's remarkable eloquence, was the English corporal.

He looked carelessly about him for a moment and then at Major Bullbeggor.

"I have to thank you," said he, "for interfering with those farmers, for as you see, I am entirely unarmed and undressed—except for this growth of feathers. But I am no chicken sir, in spite of them. No, sir, I'm hardly classed as a chicken—as these two gentlemen with you might testify.

"If the ugly old duck, there,"—and he pointed to Barron—"would like to continue the argument we were engaged in last night, I think I might persuade him of the fallacy of his ideas concerning his birth and self importance."

"You have most remarkable powers of logic," laughed Barron, "and if reason and sword-play were analogous I doubt not that you could sustain your premise. But there are too many men like you in this world who wish to maintain their point by reason of false analogy. Therefore, I warn you that unless you mend your speech I shall turn you over again to Colonel Gibson's lambs, and they will hardly let you off so easily the next time."

"If they are his lambs," replied the soldier, turning and looking at Colonel Henry, "I take it he is a preacher, and now I mark it, the fellow has a most ecclesiastical mode of speech. One would think him an itinerant minister, holding forth to his flock of"—

"Silence! you dog," growled the Major, "know your betters, or I'll stretch you on the wheel." Then he beckoned to an orderly who stood nigh the steps of the house and in a moment the Corporal was led away to be scraped and scrubbed.

Barron and myself were then introduced to Colonel Henry, Woodford, and other officers in the group, after which we were left to ourselves to discuss more or less learnedly the probable outcome of affairs in the colonies, while the older men went back to their duties. I knew little or nothing about military organization, so when the talk drifted into certain channels I withheld my speech. Before we left, however, Barron and I had been assigned volunteer positions; he as captain of a company of farmers, and I as a lieutenant in it, all under the command of Major Bullbeggor, who, in turn, belonged to Colonel Bullet's regiment. Rank was a pretty hard thing to determine in those days, for nearly everybody was addressed as "Colonel" or "Major," no matter what they were in reality. Besides this, there were several jealous men in the Richmond assembly who pretended to doubt Colonel Henry's military ability, and for a long time I believed Colonel Woodford in command.

The brave and gallant Bullet, however, took the place assigned him without a word, as did Bullbeggor, Barron and myself, and we strove to get some discipline into the hunters and farmers who made up our rank and file.

Gibson's Lambs, as his command of wild men were called, were almost beyond the reach of discipline, and were little better than Indians, so at one time Colonel Woodford was strongly tempted to disband the whole outfit, but later on they began to show signs of intelligence and were kept in ranks.

We drilled and drilled, day after day, until finally we had the satisfaction of heading a poorly armed, but fairly well organized, set of men.

During this period we had several times had news of Berkley Harrison. He and my sister were apparently married and living happily together at Norfolk, but strange to say not a letter or word came direct from either of them. Of Will Byrd and Sam there had been no trace since they went aboard the frigate the evening I left the Hall. Barron sent several messengers to Norfolk to find out their whereabouts, but to no purpose.

Whenever I had time to spare from the camp, I usually came over to see my mother and cousin Marion. Miss Carter had seldom put in appearance until the day Snake in the Grass brought the news of Harrison and my sister living so happily together. Then her manner toward me instantly changed, and instead of being out of sight she always put in appearance whenever I called at my aunt's house. This amused me not a little, but I was not ready to indulge her whims too quickly, so I put off matters until I finally became so entangled with my pretty cousin that I was on the point of doing something foolish. But sometimes unforseen incidents happen that pull a man out of a drifting current.

One evening my cousin was not feeling well, so Miss Carter and I took a long walk around the encampment and visited Lord Dunmore's deserted palace. As we walked along the sound of a nigger singing arrested our attention. It was Snake's voice, and his deep bass notes rang weirdly through the gathering darkness. Snake had a strange habit of fitting all his feelings into song, and now he sang in deep mournful notes

We tried to stop him as he rode past us, but he pretended not to see or hear us, and rode away in the direction of the Major's quarters.

"Snake has a sorrowful mood upon him this evening," said Miss Carter, after the singing had died away in the distance.

"And by the same token, I reckon, there's some bad news ahead," I answered, "and we might as well go to the Major's and find it out."

When we reached there, we found that orders had just come for us to move to Norfolk and take part in the operations against the British. I was glad the news was no worse, and I must say I felt a great relief, in spite of those I must leave behind me.

This was my last evening to spend with my people, and I determined to know my fate in a certain direction, so I recalled a few things to Miss Carter that had passed between us.

"My dear Dick," she said, "you have a most charming cousin. Why don't you marry her?"

"In the first place, she would not marry me; and in the second, she is hardly to my way of thinking," I replied.

"But you might alter your thoughts and ask her; she is pretty, wealthy, and a lady born," said Miss Carter.

"So was your grandmother," I replied, "but that fact does not presuppose any love for her on my part, charming as she still is. You also have the qualities you have just mentioned, and you, you only, do I, or can I ever love."

"If that is so, I shall be blessed with a most stupid husband," said Rose—and that was all. I bade her good-night at my aunt's front door and I think, or rather hope, it was quite dark. Then I went on my way whistling, as happy as a boy.

The days that followed in the mud and rain near Norfolk, were disheartening enough, but I never for an instant despaired. My whole life seemed filled with a great coming joy, and even old soldiers like Barron and Bullbeggor wondered at my never-failing spirits. There were nearly a thousand of us, badly armed and half-frozen men, under the command of Colonel Woodford, camped at the end of the causeway known as Great Bridge. It was December, and the weaker men fell away rapidly, until there were scarcely two hundred able riflemen left in the trenches on the night of the eighth.

I was lying in my tent on this night, listening to the rain and thinking happy thoughts of the joys in store for me when I should return to the Hall and marry the beautiful girl I loved. Barron slept with me and was snoring away at a great rate for it was long past midnight. I had just made up my mind to cease building air-castles and follow his example, and had fastened the tent flies and stretched myself out comfortably in my wet blanket, when a noise outside startled me.

It sounded like the stealthy tread of someone bent on a secret purpose, which, at this hour and place, would probably be anything but good.

I reached carefully for my pistol and noiselessly cocked back the flint, and then stared through the inky darkness toward the tent fly. I lay listening for a moment or two longer and then was aware of something moving under the canvas at my side. In an instant I clapped the muzzle of my pistol to it and called out, "Stop!"

"For God's sake, take your pistol away and let me in, quick!" said a well known voice, and the next instant Will Byrd was inside the tent. Another form followed his and for a moment I was almost smothered by Sam's embrace.

"What time is it?" asked Will, quickly.

"Not quite three, I believe," I answered. "But for heaven's sake, how did you get"—

"Hurry, then, we have just about time," interrupted Will, paying no attention to my question. "They attack you at daylight. We have just escaped, and came through the swamp to avoid being taken by these farmers and held until too late"—

"Hello! What's the matter? Who's that?" cried Barron, starting up from his blanket.

"Will and Sam," I said, "They've just come over. The grenadier company from the fort will be on the causeway in an hour." And in less than a minute all of us were on our way to Colonel Woodford's tent to tell him the news.

Little noise was made as we gathered our men at the end of the causeway, and as we hurried about Will told me, between breaths that my sister Mary and Harrison were living in the town of Norfolk where Will had been held close prisoner until an hour or two before. He had failed to gain the good will of the governor on going back to the frigate after our flight, and both he and Sam were closely confined. As soon as Sam was able to work, he was taken out and sent, with a lot of other captured slaves, to help strengthen the fortifications of the town.

Here he heard the news of the proposed attack and managed to liberate Will and escape with him in time to warn us.

"When was Mary married, and at what church?" I asked breathlessly.

But Will suddenly turned away and did not answer and, taking an old musket from a farmer, pretended to be busily engaged in fixing the flint.

I was working hard with my men, trying to get an old twelve pounder into position to sweep the bridge, but the wheels of its carriage were so rotten and stuck so deeply in the mud, that they finally broke down completely, leaving the gun useless.

As the gray dawn of the winter morning deepened, objects began to grow more distinct. We shivered in our wet clothes and strained our eyes in the direction of the fort that covered the farthest approach to Great Bridge.

Something moved in the dim distance.

Slowly and surely it drew nearer, and then we saw the head of the British column coming silently over the long causeway.

I shook from head to foot with cold and excitement, and was so ashamed because I did so, I felt like doing something foolish to prove my courage. It was very trying to stand there on that cold, wet morning and not even speak above a whisper, or move more than a foot or two, while that column, with a company of grenadiers in the van, made its way to within speaking distance of us.

The enemy was so close that, even in that bad light, the features of the men were easily distinguished, and their hard, bronzed faces looked strangely fierce from under their tall grenadier hats. Then a nervous rifleman on my left blazed off his priming, and the next instant a hundred rifles rang out from the breastworks into a deep, rolling roar.

The head of the column seemed to melt away like an icicle in the sunshine. Men pitched over each other in a tangled heap of guns, arms and legs. But the rest behind them came steadily onward, firing together in volleys that sounded like a single report.

Our line fairly flamed with rifle flashes, and the men yelled and shouted at each discharge, until the blending of yells and musket firing became almost deafening.

Suddenly the column wavered. Then backward it went and appeared almost on the point of breaking. Officers waved their swords and shouted furiously at the men, and like the gallant soldiers they were, they closed up and came onward again with a scorching fire that seemed to fairly fill the air with flying lead.

A bullet cut the coon-skin cap from the head of an old hunter at my elbow, but he never even winced, and coolly bit the end off his cartridge and rammed the lead home as if making ready to fire at a target.

They were within twenty paces of us now, and I fired my pistols with the certain knowledge that the bullets would strike within an inch of the spot at which I aimed. The officer leading the grenadiers sprang forward upon the breastwork, gave a shout to his men, and then, waving his sword, he brought it down with a sweep at my head. He was a brave fellow, and I did not know it was Fordyce until after my pistol bullet had passed through his body and he had rolled back among his men.

It was now almost hand to hand fighting, and the hot blasts of the muskets, firing in our faces, scorched the skin and blinded us so that nothing could be seen a few feet distant, but we had the advantage of only having to expose our faces, whereas the enemy had to stand to it in full view.

I saw Colonel Woodford ride past the line within a foot of me, sitting his horse easily in full view of the enemy, but he remained untouched.

The fight raged fiercely, but our men refused to be dislodged. The grenadiers were forced backward on the causeway, where they rallied upon the tory infantry coming to their support, and in a moment the smoke cleared away enough to see them forming for another desperate charge.

Again and again did they storm that line of riflemen, and each time they were repulsed and forced onto the causeway. Then, with great precision, they closed up and drew away, firing steadily as they went, the tory infantry leading.

A great shout went up from our victorious soldiers, and Colonel Bullet leaped, sword in hand, over the breastworks and called for the men to follow him. Bullbeggor pushed forward on the right, and led half a score of men onto the causeway, but the British fired so steadily, and kept their formation so well, that Colonel Woodford would not risk any mishap to mar so grand a victory. The men were recalled, in spite of the gallant Bullet's protests, but the rifle fire was kept up from the breastwork until the enemy was well across and out of range. All along the line of that long causeway they dropped from the ranks before the murderous fire of those Virginians, and when they at last gained the protection of the guns of their fort on the other side, there was not one grenadier left unhit. The rest of them broke and became a disorganized mob, making for shelter where it could be found, while the way now being clear the fort opened a heavy fire that soon kept our men under cover.

When I had time to look about me I was astonished at the small number of our wounded. In that hot fire it seemed to me that nearly everyone must get hit. But the poor light and breastworks had saved us many lives, and our victory was not robbed of its joy by the presence of many dead and wounded comrades. Not over a score of our men were hit, and only a few of these casualties resulted fatally. Barron had his coat cut in three places by balls, for he had exposed himself unnecessarily, and Bullbeggor had lost his hat and was bleeding from a scratch on his forehead where a grenadier had made a pass at him with his bayonet and then fired. The steel had cut the skin, but the bullet had missed and the discharge had blackened the Major's face until it was the color of his servant's. Snake wished to attend his master, but the Major waved him back and insisted on taking no notice of his hurt. He stalked up and down the line of men, with his drawn sword held before him, stopping now and then to see that a rifle was properly primed, or that the men did not flinch too much from the artillery fire and become disorganized in case of a renewal of the attack.

Finally the fire of the fort slacked up, and then ceased altogether, and we were able to go about unmolested. Twenty dead grenadiers lay piled up at our end of the causeway, their red coats stained with blood and dirt. Then, as the fever of the fight died away in our veins, we looked out upon those silent corpses and began to realize the grim glory of war. Will joined me then and we shook hands silently over our success, and afterwards we started to do what we could for our wounded men.