“There was a momentary struggle in Nathan’s mind, whether to knock the fellow down, as from appearances he easily might, or to yield, in obedience to his principles. ‘It was strongly on his mind,’ he confessed, to pursue the former course, but prudence conquered, and he quietly withdrew to the upper end of the apartment, where his men lounged on a bench, apparently half asleep, and indistinctly visible in the light of the fire and one small candle, which burned near the strangers.  In the interim, the old cook had been summoned, and had arranged some cold provisions on the table.  ‘Old Annie,’ the cook, was the child of Indian and mulatto parents, but possessed none of the features of her darker relation, except a capacious mouth and lips to match.  She refused to associate with either negroes or Indians, considering herself as belonging to neither, and indulging a sovereign contempt for both.  Her favorite term of reproach was ‘Injin’ and ‘nigger,’ and when they failed separately to express her feelings, she put the two together, a compliment always paid the Hessians, when she had occasion to mention them.  A party of these marauders had, on a visit to her master’s house, stolen her fall’s store of sausages; thenceforth she vowed eternal hatred to the race—­a vow she never forgot to the day of her death.

“The strangers ate their repast, showing anything but confidence in their entertainer, and ate, each man with his gun resting on his shoulder.  During the whole meal, he who called himself their captain was uneasy and restless.  For some time, he appeared to be engaged in a very close scrutiny of the household, who occupied the other end of the kitchen—­a scrutiny which, owing to the darkness, could not yield him much satisfaction.  He then whispered anxiously and angrily with his men, who answered in a dogged, obstinate fashion, that evidently displeased him; till, finally, rising from his seat, he bade them follow, and scarcely taking time to thank Nathan for his food and fire, passed out of the door and made from the house.

“‘Well, now, that beats me!’ said Elnathan, as he and his comrades looked at each other in astonishment at the abrupt departure and singular conduct of their guests.

“‘That are a queer lark, any how!’ responded John; ’it beats all natur’.’

‘’The Injins,’ said Ann.  ’If that is not Fagan or some of his gang, never trust me!—­why did you not give them a shot, the ‘tarnal thieves?’

“But our household troop were too glad to get rid of their visitors to interrupt their retreat.  The house was secured again, the men had thrown themselves down, and some of them were already asleep, when another knock at the same door brought them as one man to their feet.  On opening the door, a laborer attached to a neighboring farm presented himself, breathless from haste, and almost dead with fear.  When he so far recovered his speech as to be able to tell his story, he proved to be the man whom the pretended