“Did you hear that?” exclaimed the maiden, with flushed cheek and kindling eye.

“Hear what?” asked her surprised and wondering companion, who had heard nothing to warrant so sudden a change in the other's demeanor.

“That sound from the forest yonder,” answered Sabrey, pointing over to the wood bordering the opening to the south. “But hush! listen! it may be repeated. There—didn't you hear it then?”

“I heard nothing but the hooting of an old owl over there What do you make out of that?” responded Vine, still surprised and doubtful.

“I make much out of it: but let us listen further,” answered the other.

They did so; and presently the same slow, solemn hoot of the bird just named rose more loud and distinct than before. And scarcely had the last sound died away in its peculiar melancholy cadence, when the solitary report of a musket sent its echoing peal over the valley from the forest in the opposite direction.

“There! the story is told,” exclaimed Sabrey, exultingly. “Three hoots of the owl is the secret watchword of the Rangers. The admirable imitation we have just heard was doubtless given by him who communicated to me this fact, and gave me a specimen of his faculty of making the sound as we were coming through the woods in our recent flight. It here shows, unless I greatly err, that his regiment is passing round to the rear of the enemy; while the gun we have just heard must proceed, I think, from some other force going round through the woods on the opposite side,—these sounds being a concerted interchange of signals to apprise each other and General Stark of the progress they have made towards the appointed station. In fifteen minutes, this camp may discover itself surrounded and assailed on all sides by men who know what they are fighting for. Then Vine then comes the struggle we have been praying to witness. O, may Heaven prosper the defenders of their homes, and enable them to triumph over their haughty foes.”

The conjectures of Miss Haviland respecting the plan of attack which the Americans had adopted were well founded. Colonel Herrick, with his brave and spirited regiment of Rangers, had been despatched through the woods to the rear of the enemy, where he was to be joined by nearly an equal force of militia, under the command of Colonel Nichols, coming through the forest, also, in an opposite direction; while the remaining and larger portion of the army was to advance in front, in time to commence with the former the general attack. And, in a short time, the long, deep roll of drums, swelling louder and louder on the breeze, announced that Stark, with the main body, was in motion, and rapidly approaching along the road from the east.

Quickly every part of the British camp was in lively commotion. And the hasty mounting of field-officers, the flying of the scattered troops to their respective standards, the furious beating of the drums to arms, and the deep, stern words of command, mingling with the rattling of steel, and other sounds of hostile preparation, all plainly told that they were at length aroused to the conviction that their opponents in front were coming down in full force upon their encampment; and that something more might now be required to insure their safety, than the empty vaunting, and the supposed intimidating display, of British uniforms and brass cannon, which had thus far marked the expedition, and constituted its only achievements. And scarcely had the different divisions of their motley army become arrayed and fixed in their line of battle, which consisted of the regulars within their strong field-works on the elevated plain on the left, and the Canadians and tories behind their more imperfect defences stretching from the former across the meadow on the right—scarcely had this been done, before their line of pickets, which had been placed among the trees at the eastern termination of the field, suddenly broke from their station, and came disorderly rushing back to the encampment. Presently a dark body of men in motion began to be perceptible through the openings of the wood along the line of the winding road; and, in a moment more, Stark's noble little brigade of sturdy and resolute peasant warriors came pouring into the field.

Wheeling in beautiful order into battle array, they came to a halt in the open plain near the border of the woods. Stark, then advancing, rode slowly along the front of the line, and, at length pausing, ran his practised eye collectedly over the firmly-standing ranks and dauntless faces before him; when, raising his massive form to its full length, he raised his glittering sword, and pointed to the hostile lines.

“Yonder, my men,” he said, in a voice whose clear, deep, and ringing tones, in the stillness which at the moment prevailed, distinctly reached the attent organs of our fair listeners—“yonder, my brave men, stand the red-coats, your own and your country's foe—their army a mongrel crew of Hessian hirelings, fighting for eight-pence a day, or thereabouts; of tories, who come to ravage and enslave the land that gave them birth; and lastly, of Indians, dreaming of scalps and plunder! Are you not better men? Have you not nobler objects? Call you not yourselves freemen, with hearts to defend your homes and country? If so, then let your deeds this day prove it to the world! As for myself, my resolution is taken,—the field and foe is ours by set of sun, or Molly Stark this night will sleep a widow.”

Three hearty cheers, bursting spontaneously from the listening ranks before him, told the gratified leader that he had not overrated the spirit and enthusiasm of the men to whom his brief but effective appeal had been addressed.

The British forces, in the mean time, awaited the approach of their opponents in silence. Baum even forebore to open upon them with his cannon, in the delusive hope that they would prove to be one of the large bodies of friendly inhabitants, who, he had been assured, would rise up in arms to join his standard as he advanced into the interior. His suspense, however, was soon ended. A scattering volley of musketry, followed by a distant shout, rose from the woods in rear of the station occupied by the Indians. And suddenly the whole body of the savages, contrary to their usual custom, quitted the woods, and came rushing into the camp of their allies with manifestations of the greatest surprise and dismay. The next moment, Herrick, at the head of his long files of Rangers, emerged into the open field, rapidly formed them into column, and advanced towards the rear of the enemy's intrenchments; while, at the same time, Nichols and his corps were seen approaching from the forest in an opposite direction, to form the contemplated junction, and move on with the former to the combined assault. The moment the Indians obtained a view of both these forces, and perceived they were converging together so as to form a continuous line of battle along the rear, they began to manifest the greatest uneasiness and alarm. And heir innate dread of being surrounded soon becoming too strong for the restraints of discipline, they broke from their position, and, like a flock of wild horses, commenced a tumultuous flight across the field towards the woods in open space between the two approaching forces of their opponents, who, quickly changing fronts, poured in upon them a rapid succession of destructive volleys. A fierce shout now burst from the ranks of the assailants; and, when the smoke rose, a line of dark, lifeless forms marked the green field nearly to the woods; others were seen crawling, like wounded reptiles, to the nearest coverts; while all the rest of the savage foe had disappeared forever from the field. Herrick and Nichols having now resumed their march, and Stark put his corps in motion, the three divisions, with two small flanking detachments, despatched along the woods to the right and left of the main body, all moved steadily on to the different points of attack. They were not permitted, however, to advance far unmolested; for suddenly every part of the royal lines became wrapped in clouds of mingling smoke and flame; while the heavens and earth seemed rent by the deafening crash of exploding muskets, and the jarring concussions of cannon, which instantly followed. Unmoved, however, by the tremendous outbreak, the American forces all moved steadily and rapidly forward till the forms of their opponents could be discerned beneath the lifting smoke, when they poured in a storm of fire and lead which told with dreadful effect on the shrinking lines before them. The general fire thus fatally delivered was speedily returned; and the battle now commencing in fearful earnest in every part of the field, both armies became so deeply concealed in the whirling clouds of smoke, which enveloped them, that the opposing forces could be distinguished only in the fierce gleams of musketry and the broader blaze of cannon that burst incessantly along the lines, filling, with the mingled uproar of a thousand thunders, the rocking valley and reverberating mountains around.

In the mean while, our heroine and her companion, who, at the first shock of this terrible onset, had shrunk back in consternation from view of the scene, sat listening on their humble couch to the fearful din that assailed their recoiling senses in every direction around them from without, with feelings which can be far more easily imagined than described. For more than an hour, while the battle continued to rage with increasing violence, and showers of bullets were heard every moment striking and burying themselves in the logs composing the walls of their seemingly devoted shelter, the amazed and trembling girls remained in the same position, dreading to look out upon the field, lest their eyes should be greeted with the sight of the death and carnage which they full well knew must there be going on to a fearful extent among both friends and foes. But Sabrey's increasing anxiety for the result, at length, mastering all other considerations, she arose, and, against the remonstrances of her companion, advanced towards the window.

“How awful!” she exclaimed, as she glanced out on the terrific conflict.

“Too awful to witness, unless there were some use in so doing,” responded Vine. “If we were permitted to mingle in the fight with our friends, I, for one, would be willing to brave all the horrors of the battle for the good I might do; but, as this cannot be, why should we expose ourselves to danger so uselessly? Now, I do entreat you, Sabrey, to venture no farther,” she continued, as the former, reaching the window, leaned forward for a full view of the scene. “Step back from that dangerous spot; don't you hear the bullets rattling, like hail, round the building?”

“Yes, but there is no danger where I stand, I presume, but if there were, I could no longer forbear watching the issue of a contest in which my own fate, as well as that of friends, is so deeply involved,” replied Sabrey, with desperate calmness, as she continued to rivet her gaze on the field below.

“If you will look, then,” said the other, “tell me what you see going on.”

“I will,” answered the former, “as far as I can distinguish any movements. But, at present, both sides are so completely concealed in the smoke that enshrouds them, that I can only discern dark forms in active motion along the lines, as the blaze of their fire-arms reveals portions of their ranks. The struggle, however, is evidently a dreadful one! In that continued, deafening crash which you hear, flames and smoke seem to be vomited forth from the earth, as if from the mouth of a volcano.”

“There seems to be less firing now,” observed Vine, after listening in silence a few minutes. “Can you perceive any new movements afoot? Can't you distinguish any of the words of command, or any thing that is said among that uproar of voices, which, between the booming of the cannon, once in a while, plainly reaches my ears?”

“Ay,” returned the other, intently bending her ear towards the scene of action—“ay, I think I can, now. Hark! I hear one voice in particular, rising loud over all others; but it is the voice of one in prayer, invoking the God of battles to strike with the free and aid in bringing down quick destruction on their foes. How mightily he cries to Heaven for succor and success!”

“Where is he? among the rest in the fight?”

“No, not directly in the battle, I should think, but a little aloof, in the rear of this end of the American lines. There! I can now distinguish his form coming obliquely out of the smoke in this direction.”

“Who is he?”

“I know not; but he seems a venerable old man, and his long, white locks are streaming in the wind, as, with a grasped musket in his hands, and the cry of The sword of the Lord and Gideon on his lips, he rushes towards the foe.”

“What! to encounter them alone?”

“Yes, alone, and in advance of all others. Now he takes his stand in front of a group of tories partially concealed by the bushes on the bank of the stream. There! he raises his gun, and crying, God have mercy on your soul, fires, and his victim pitches headlong to the ground. They return his fire, but harm him not; and he again raises his gun, and, with the same prayer for mercy on the soul of the foeman he has singled out, fires, and another tory falls heavily to the earth. Mercy! they are now rushing forward to slay the old man! But now they are met by a party of the Americans, running forward with shouts, For the rescue of Father Herriot! Both sides fire; and again all are enveloped in the cloud of smoke that rolls over them.”

“Father Herriot—Father Herriot,” said Vine, musingly. “I have heard a great deal said about one they call Father Herriot, lately; but can he be here fighting?”

“Why, who and what is he, that he should not be here?” asked the other.

“A sort of preacher, I believe,” answered Vine, “but rich enough to have bought several large tory estates; though where he came from, or how he got so much hard money as he seems to have, nobody can tell.”

A fresh and general outbreak between the opposing lines here interrupted the conversation, and turned Sabrey's attention again to the field. And for nearly another fearful hour did she keep her stand at the window, heedless of the danger from the bullets which were whistling round her head, and unable, in the agonizing anxiety she felt for the result, to withdraw her eyes from that dread field, where the continued thunders of the artillery and musketry, shaking the solid earth along the line of conflict proclaimed the battle to be still raging with unabated fury.

At length, a brisk breeze sprang up in the north-west, and the battle cloud rolled heavily away before it from the field, disclosing, not only the relative positions of the opposing forces, but the awful picture of carnage that every where strewed the blackened earth. Mutually anxious to avail themselves of this opportunity to ascertain each other's situation, both parties at once suspended operations, for the purpose of obtaining observations which should enable them to resume the battle with more deadly effect. The deafening roar of musketry which, for nearly two hours, had shaken the embattled plain like one continued peal of thunder, was now heard rolling away, in dying echoes, among the far-off hills, leaving only the monotonous din of the martial music, kept up to drown the cries of the wounded, and the heavy booming of Baum's artillery, that still maintained its regular fire on the hill, though only to send—as it now became evident it had done from the first—its iron missiles high and harmlessly over the heads of the Americans, into the tops of the crashing forest beyond.

“Is the battle over?” asked Vine, as the noise of fire-arms thus subsided.

“No—that is, I conclude not,” hesitatingly answered the other, still more closely rivetting her anxious gaze on the unfolding scene before her. “No, I think not—I trust not; for the British yet remain unconquered.”

“Can you see them now?”

“Yes; the wind is driving away the smoke, and both armies are now fast becoming visible.”

“Do our men maintain their ground?”

“Ay, and more. They have advanced almost to the hostile intrenchments; and there they stand face to face with their foes; and with ranks less thinned, thank Heaven, than I should think possible after withstanding so long the dreadful fire to which they have been exposed; though I can distinguish the forms of many poor fellows stretched upon the earth.”

“And have not the ranks of the enemy suffered also?”

“Severely, it is evident. The ground along their lines as far as I can see, and especially that part opposite to the station occupied by the Rangers, whom I can distinguish by their green uniform, is thickly strown with the bodies of the slain. And if our men could see the destruction they have caused behind those intrenchments to encourage them! But stay! what means that commotion? Can it be? Heaven forbid! But it is so. They fly!”

“Who fly?” eagerly demanded Vine.

“The Americans—Stark's division—and all is lost, when one more effort might have given them the victory! If my feeble voice could but reach them, I would rush out and raise it, though I perished in the attempt!” rapidly exclaimed the heroic girl, agonized at the thought that her countrymen were actually retreating from a field she believed so nearly won. “Ay, and who knows but I might be heard, or, at least, understood?” she added, glancing hurriedly through the window to the grounds round the house, to see what might be there to prevent her from trying to put her half-formed resolution into execution.

In looking out, with this object, her eye fell on the rude portico running along that side of the house, the narrow, flat roof of which rose to within a few feet of her window. And, suddenly changing her purpose, she hastily tore out the fastenings of the window, removed the sashes, and leaped down upon the roof of the portico, and stood in open view of the greater partion of both armies. But still regardless of her exposure, she advanced to the verge of the roof, and, turning towards the Americans, waved high her kerchief, and essayed to lift her voice over the tumult in words which, she hoped, would catch their attention and arrest their supposed flight. But the Americans, who had only fallen back a short distance to avoid the now unobstructed aim of the enemy, and prepare for a fresh onset, had already come to a stand, but were at first too busily engaged in loading their guns, and watching the motions of their foes, to observe her. The tories, however, whose forces were posted in the more immediate vicinity, instantly noted her appearance, and pointed her out to their officers, who, at once, appeared to read her intentions. And the next moment Colonel Peters, now for the first time presenting himself to her sight since her recapture, rode up; and, with a countenance flushed with suppressed passion, commanded her to retire within the house. A look of ineffable scorn was the only reply the maiden vouchsafed to give him, while she redoubled her exertions to attract the attention of his opponents. Stung by this public exhibition of her disdain, and defiance of his commands, the tory chief hastily raised a pistol towards her, and, in a fierce and menacing tone, demanded an immediate compliance with his orders.

“God have mercy on your soul!” was at that instant heard issuing from a covert near the American lines, in the well-known voice of Father Herriot. With the exclamation came the report of a musket, and at the same time a bullet struck and shattered in his hand the raised pistol of the dastardly Peters, who, casting away the remnant of the weapon to which he had been indebted only for his life, hastily wheeled and galloped back to his post barely escaping the shower of balls that, as he had rightly anticipated, was sent after him from the nearest of his foes.

But although the maiden had failed at the onset to attract the attention of the Americans by her attempt, as she had designed, yet the incident, to which the bold step she had taken gave rise, more effectually subserved her purpose. The firing had at once drawn all eyes to the spot. Presently the low hum of questioning voices was heard running through the American lines, while many an uplifted hand was seen pointing to her conspicuous form, as, still undeterred from her purpose, she stood waving her signal kerchief towards them. And the next moment the loud and cheering cry, Forward, to the rescue of the Tory's Daughter! burst from the Rangers, and was speedily caught up and echoed in lively acclamations, from detachment to detachment, through the whole encircling lines of the assailing army, which, with one impulse, now threw itself forward towards the foe. And, unmoved by the tremendous but hasty and misdirected fire that every where met them on the way, they swept onward like an avalanche to the very foot of the tory intrenchments; when, pausing only to pour in their devouring volleys, they mounted the works, and raising their clubbed muskets, dashed down, with shouts of defiance, upon the recoiling ranks of the amazed and panic-stricken foe, who, unable to withstand the force and fury of the onset, instantly gave way and threw down their arms, or scattered and fled in every direction.

Astonished and alarmed at beholding all his outworks so suddenly and unexpectedly stormed and carried, Baum seemed immediately to have resolved on a desperate effort to retrieve the fortunes of the day. And in a few minutes he was seen at the head of a long column of his grenadiers, issuing from his intrenchments on the hill, and bearing down with hasty step on the assailing forces below. But the next moment, that imposing column, with its luckless leader, disappeared before the enfilading fire of the death-dealing Rangers, like frost-work before the breath of a furnace; while, nearly at the same time, an upleaping cloud of smoke and flame, followed by the shock of an exploding ammunition wagon within the principal works, completed the only signal of encouragement that was wanted by the already flushed assailants to decide them on an immediate attempt for the completion of their triumph. And before the dull roar of the explosion was lost among the echoing hills, the deep-toned voice of the intrepid Stark, ever eagle-eyed to see, and prompt to seize, an advantage, was heard rising over the tumult, in ordering the final assault, which, having leaped from his horse, and sprung forward to the head of a forming column, he was the next moment seen, with the air of a roused lion, leading on in person. In one minute more, all the various forces, not required to guard the prisoners already taken, were in motion, and, with flashing eyes, and rapid, determined tread, charging up the ascending grounds towards the different sides of the doomed redoubt; in another, they were furiously rushing over the embankments, and pouring their bristling columns in resistless streams down upon the weakened and dismayed forces of the Germans and British in the enclosure. Then succeeded the rapid, scattering reports of pistols and musketry, the sounds of fiercely-clashing steel, and the wild cries of those struggling hand to hand in deadly contest, and the wilder shrieks of the wounded, all rising in mingled uproar from the spot. Then all was hushed in a momentary stillness; and then rose the long, loud shout of a thousand uniting voices, pealing forth to the heavens the exulting acclamations of victory!