We crossed a stream and two roads, then came into a street with many houses which ran south, then, at four corners, turned sharp to the east.  And there, across a little brook, we saw a handsome manor house around which some three score cavalry horses were picketed,

Yard, lawn, stables and barns were swarming with people—­ dragoons of Sheldon’s Regiment, men of Colonel Thomas’s foot regiment, militia officers, village gentlemen whose carriages stood waiting; and some of these same carriages must have come from a distance, perhaps even from Ridgefield, to judge by the mud and dust that clotted them.

Beyond the house, on a road which I afterward learned ran toward Lewisboro, between the Three Lakes, Cross Pond, and Bouton’s, a military convoy was passing, raising a prodigious cloud of dust.  I could see, and faintly hear, sheep and cattle; there was a far crack of whips, a shouting of drovers and teamsters, and, through the dust, we caught the sparkle of a bayonet here and there.

Somewhere, doubtless, some half starved brigade of ours was gnawing its nails and awaiting this same convoy; and I silently prayed God to lead it safely to its destination.

“Pretty women everywhere!” whispered Boyd in my ear.  “Our friend the Major seems to have a houseful.  The devil take me if I leave this town tomorrow!”

As we rode into the yard and dismounted, and our rifleman took the bridles, across the crowded roadway we could see a noble house with its front doors wide open and a group of ladies and children there and many gentlemen saluting them as they entered or left the house.

“A respectable company,” I heard Boyd mutter to himself, as he stood slapping the dust from hunting-shirt and leggings and smoothing the fringe.  And, “Damme, Loskiel,” he said, “we’re like to cut a most contemptible figure among such grand folk—­ what with our leather breeches, and saddle-reek for the only musk we wear.  Lord!  But yonder stands a handsome girl—­ and my condition mortifies me so that I could slink off to the mews for shame and lie on straw with the hostlers.”

There was, I knew, something genuine in his pretense of hurt vanity, even under the merry mask he wore; but I only laughed.

A great many people moved about, many, I could see, having arrived from the distant country; and there was a great noise of hammering, too, from a meadow below, where, a soldier told us, they were erecting barracks for Sheldon’s and for other troops shortly expected.

“There is even talk of a fort for the ridge yonder,” he said.  “One may see the Sound from there.”

We glanced up at the ridge, then gazed curiously around, and finally walked down along the stone wall to a pasture.  Here, where they were building the barracks, there had been a camp; and the place was still smelling stale enough.  Tents were now being loaded on ox wagons; and a company of Colonel Thomas’s regiment was filing out along the road after the convoy which we had seen moving through the dust toward Lewisboro.