The major then related what had happened, letting his auditors into the secret of the true state of the country.  It is scarcely necessary to allude to the degree of consternation and pain, with which he was heard, or to the grief which succeeded.

“You spoke of yourself, dear Bob,” said Maud, naturally, and with strong feeling—­“You were not hurt, in this cruel, cruel battle.”

“I ought not to have mentioned it, although I did certainly receive a smart contusion—­nothing more, I assure you—­here in the shoulder, and it now scarcely inconveniences me.”

By this time all were listening, curiosity and interest having silenced even the disputants, especially as this was the first they had heard of the major’s casualty.  Then neither felt the zeal which had warmed him in the previous contest, but was better disposed to turn aside from its pursuit.

“I hope it did not send you to the rear, Bob?” anxiously inquired the father.

“I was in the rear, sir, when I got the hurt,” answered the major, laughing.  “The rear is the post of honour, on a retreat, you know, my dear father; and I believe our march scarce deserves another name.”

“That is hard, too, on king’s troops!  What sort of fellows had you to oppose, my son?”

“A rather intrusive set, sir.  Their object was to persuade us to go into Boston, as fast as possible; and, it was a little difficult, at times, not to listen to their arguments.  If my Lord Percy had not come out, with a strong party, and two pieces of artillery, we might not have stood it much longer.  Our men were fagged like hunted deer, and the day proved oppressively hot.”

“Artillery, too!” exclaimed the captain, his military pride reviving a little, to unsettle his last convictions of duty.  “Did you open your columns, and charge your enemies, in line?”

“It would have been charging air.  No sooner did we halt, than our foes dispersed; or, no sooner did we renew the march, than every line of wall, along our route, became a line of hostile muskets.  I trust you will do us justice, sir—­you know the regiments, and can scarce think they misbehaved.”

“British troops seldom do that; although I have known it happen.  No men, however, are usually more steady, and then these provincials are formidable as skirmishers.  In that character, I know them, too.  What has been the effect of all this on the country, Bob?—­You told us something of it last night; complete the history.”

“The provinces are in a tumult.  As for New England, a flame of fire could scarce be more devastating; though I think this colony is less excited.  Still, here, men are arming in thousands.”

“Dear me—­dear me”—­ejaculated the peacefully-inclined chaplain—­“that human beings can thus be inclined to self destruction!”

“Is Tryon active?—­What do the royal authorities, all this time?”

“Of course they neglect nothing feasible; but, they must principally rely on the loyalty and influence of the gentry, until succour can arrive from Europe.  If that fail them, their difficulties will be much increased.”