“’T is nothing but a big Whig clanker, I’ll be bound!” snorted Mr. Meredith.

“I would for the sake of manhood they were!” said the officer.  “I was once proud to be a British soldier—­” he checked himself sharply, and then went on:  “If you fear for Mrs. Meredith and Miss Janice, take them with you.  I’ll see to it that you all return in comfort.”

Although the squire had no particular fear of the safety of his womankind, he did not choose to confess it after what he had said; and so, without more ado, his wife and daughter were ordered to don their calashes and cloaks.  Then the odd-looking caravan, of five vehicles, nine cows, and four squealing pigs, started,—­Mrs. Meredith and Janice and the squire seated on the box of the coach, while the driver bestrode one of the horses.

The excitement of the drive was delightful to Janice, and it was not lessened by what she heard.  The aide rode beside the coach, and at first tried to engage her in conversation, but the girl was too shy and self-conscious to talk easily to him, and so it ended in chat between the officer and Mr. and Mrs. Meredith, in which he told of how he had secured his position on the staff of the general, and gave an outline history of the siege of Boston, the campaigning about New York, and the retreat to Brunswick.

“I knew the rake-hells ’ud never fight,” asserted the squire, at one point.

“Like all green troops, they object to discipline, and have shown cowardice in the face of the enemy.  But the British would not dare say as much as you say, after the lessons they’ve had.  The fault is mainly with the officers, who, by the system of election or appointment, are chiefly politicians and popularity-seekers not fit to black boots, much less command companies and regiments.  Here in this town, the life was sapped out of the ‘Invincibles’ by their own officers; but the parson went among the men this morning, and the best of them formed a new company under him and enlisted for the year.  And those who helped me take the powder to Cambridge volunteered, and have proved good men.  All they need are good officers to make them good soldiers.”

“What did ye with that rogue Evatt?” demanded the squire, his mind recalled to the subject by the allusion to the powder; and Janice hastily caught hold of the fore-string of her calash to pull the headgear forward so that her face should be hidden from the aide.  Yet she listened to the reply with an attentive if red face.

“Our kidnapping of him not being easy to justify, I did not choose to take him to Cambridge and so, when we spoke a brig outside Newport, bound for Madeira, I e’en bargained his passage on her.  ’T is naturally the last I ever heard of him.”

Then poor Janice had to hear her father and mother express their thanks to the officer and berate the runaway pair; and the painful subject was abandoned only when they drove into Brunswick, where its interest could not compete with that of the masses of soldiers camped on the green, the batteries of artillery planted along the river front, and the general hurly-burly everywhere.