“Your bivouac has done you good,” joined Middlemore, following the example of the others, and extending his hand, “I never saw you looking to greater advantage.”

“Pretty well, pretty well thank you,” returned the good humoured, but not too acute subaltern, as he passed his hand over his Falstaffian stomach; “only a little fatigued with the last six hours, retreating.  Egad!  I began to think I never should get away, the fellows pursued us so hotly.”

“And hotly you fled, it would appear,” returned Middlemore.

“I dare be sworn, there was not a six foot Kentuckian of the whole American army active enough to come within a mile of him,” added Molineux.

“And yet, considering the speed he made, he seems to have lost but little of his flesh,” said St. Clair.

“Of course,” chuckled Middlemore, “these long fellows come from Troy county in Ohio.”

“Egad, I don’t know; why do you ask?”

“Because you know it is not for the men of Troy to reduce the men of grease—­hence your escape.”

“Are the enemy then so near, Mr. Raymond?” inquired Julia D’Egville, anxious to turn the conversation.

“I should think not very far, Miss D’Egville, since, as you see they have not given me time to change my dress.”

At that moment the noise of horses’ bells were heard without; and they were soon distinguished to be those of Colonel D’Egville’s berlin.

A few moments afterwards, that officer entered the room now wholly deserted save by the little coterie near the fire place.  Like Lieutenant Raymond’s, his dress was more suited to the bivouac than the ball room, and his countenance otherwise bore traces of fatigue.

His daughters flew to meet him.  The officers also grouped around, desirous to hear what tidings he brought of the enemy, to corroborate the statement of Raymond.  To the great mortification of the latter, it was now found that he and his little detachment had had all the running to themselves, and that while they fancied the whole of the American army to be close at their heels, the latter had been so kept in check by the force of Indians, under Colonel D’Egville in person, as to be compelled to retire upon the point whence the original attack had been made.  They had not followed the broken English outpost more than a mile, and yet, so convinced of close pursuit had been the latter, that for the space of six leagues they had scarce relaxed in their retreat.  The information now brought by Colonel D’Egville, was that the Americans had not advanced a single foot beyond the outpost in question, but on the contrary had commenced constructing a stockade, and throwing up entrenchments.  He added, moreover, that he had just dispatched an express to Sandwich, to General Proctor, (who had, since the departure of General Brock, succeeded to the command of the district,) communicating the intelligence, and suggesting the propriety of an