Meanwhile, Margaret and her mother had come up the river in a barge with General and Mrs. Arnold to the house of the latter.  Jack had gone out on a tour of inspection.  He had left headquarters after the noon meal with a curious message in his pocket and a feeling of great relief.  The message had been delivered to him by the mother of a captain in one of the regiments.  She said that it had been given to her by a man whom she did not know.  Jack had been busy when it came and did not open it until she had gone away.  It was an astonishing and most welcome message in the flowing script of a rapid penman, but clearly legible.  It was without date and very brief.  These were the cheering words in it: 

“MY DEAR FRIEND:  I have good news from down the river.  The danger is passed.

“HENRY THORNHILL.”

“Well, Henry Thornhill is a man who knows whereof he speaks,” the young officer said to himself, as he rode away.  “I should like to meet him again.”

That day the phrase “Good news from down the river” came repeatedly back to him.  He wondered what it meant.

Jack being out of camp, Margaret had found Solomon.  Toward the day’s end he had gone out on the south road with the young lady and her mother and Mrs. Arnold.

Jack was riding into camp from an outpost of the army.  The day was in its twilight.  He had been riding fast.  He pulled up his horse as he approached a sentry post.  Three figures were standing in the dusky road.

“Halt!  Who comes there?” one of them sang out.

It was the voice of Margaret.  Its challenge was more like a phrase of music than a demand.  He dismounted.

“I am one of the great army of lovers,” said he.

“Advance and give the countersign,” she commanded.

A moment he held her in his embrace and then he whispered:  “I love you.”

“The countersign is correct, but before I let you pass, give me one more look into your heart.”

“As many as you like—­but—­why?”

“So I may be sure that you do not blame England for the folly of her King.”

“I swear it.”

“Then I shall enlist with you against the tyrant.  He has never been my King.”

Lady Hare stood with Mrs. Arnold near the lovers.

“I too demand the countersign,” said the latter.

“And much goes with it,” said the young man as he kissed her, and then he embraced the mother of his sweetheart and added: 

“I hope that you are also to enlist with us.”

“No, I am to leave my little rebel with you and return to New York.”

Solomon, who had stood back in the edge of the bush, approached them and said to Lady Hare: 

“I guess if the truth was known, they’s more rebels in England than thar be in Ameriky.”

He turned to Jack and added: 

“My son, you’re a reg’lar Tory privateer—­grabbin’ for gold.  Give ’em one a piece fer me.”