“We are very safe, here,” observed the captain, as his son appeased his hunger, with the keen relish of a traveller.  “Even Woods might stand a siege in a house built and stockaded like this.  Every window has solid bullet-proof shutters, with fastenings not easily broken; and the logs of the buildings might almost defy round-shot.  The gates are all up, one leaf excepted, and that leaf stands nearly in its place, well propped and supported.  In the morning it shall be hung like the others.  Then the stockade is complete, and has not a speck of decay about it yet.  We shall keep a guard of twelve men up the whole night, with three sentinels outside of the buildings; and all of us will sleep in our clothes, and on our arms.  My plan, should an assault be made, is to draw in the sentinels, as soon as they have discharged their pieces, to close the gate, and man the loops.  The last are all open, and spare arms are distributed at them.  I had a walk made within the ridge of the roofs this spring, by which men can run round the whole Hut, in the event of an attempt to, set fire to the shingles, or fire over the ridge at an enemy at the stockades.  It is a great improvement, Bob; and, as it is well railed, will make a capital station in a warm conflict, before the enemy make their way within the stockade.”

“We must endeavour not to let them get there, sir,” answered the major—­“but, as soon as your people are housed, I shall have an opportunity to reconnoitre.  Open work is most to the taste of us regulars.”

“Not against an Indian enemy.  You will be glad of such a fortress as this, boy, before the question of independence, or no independence, shall be finally settled.  Did not Washington entrench in the town?”

“Not much on that side of the water, sir; though he was reasonably well in the ground on Long Island. There he had many thousands of men, and works of some extent.”

“And how did he get off the island?” demanded the captain, turning round to look his son in the face.  “The arm of the sea is quite half-a-mile in width, at that point—­how did he cross it in the face of a victorious army?—­or did he only save himself, while you captured his troops?”

The major coloured a little, and then he looked at Beulah and smiled good-naturedly.

“I am so surrounded by rebels here,” he said, “that it is not easy to answer all your questions, sir.  Beat him we did, beyond a question, and that with a heavy loss to his army—­and out of New York we have driven him, beyond a question—­but—­I will not increase Beulah’s conceit by stating any more!”

“If you can tell me anything kind of Evert, Bob, you will act like a brother in so doing,” said the gentle wife.

“Ay, Beekman did well too, they said.  I heard some of our officers extolling a charge he made; and to own the truth, I was not sorry to be able to say he was my sister’s husband, since a fierce rebel she would marry.  All our news of him is to his credit; and now I shall get a kiss for my pains.”