Mr. Meredith descended from his seat and waited his turn to go through what was to him a form, and during this time the ladies watched the troops being ferried across the river.  Presently an officer rode up the river road, issuing orders to the regiments, which promptly fell in, while the rider halted at the tavern, announced the soon-to-be-expected arrival of Generals Howe and Cornwallis, and bade the landlord prepare his best cheer.  While he spoke a large barge landed its burden of men and horses on the shore, and a moment later a dozen officers came trotting up to the tavern between lines of men with their guns at “present arms.”

“What ho!  Well met, friend Meredith,” cried one of the new-comers, as the group halted at the tavern.  “I was but just telling Sir William that the king had one good friend in Brunswick town, and now here he is!” Evatt, or Clowes, swung out of the saddle and extended his hand.

Although the squire had just recovered the whip dropped by Janice, he did not keep to his intention of laying it across the shoulders of the would-be abductor, but instead grasped the hand offered.

“Well met, indeed,” he assented cordially. “’T is a glad sight to us to see our good king’s colours and troops.”

“Sir William,” called the baron, “thou must know Mr. Lambert Meredith, first, because he’s the one friend our king has in this town, and next, because, as thy commissary, I forbid thee to dine at the tavern on the vile fried pork or bubble and squeak, and the stinking whiskey or rum thou’lt be served with, and, in Mr. Meredith’s name, invite thee and his Lordship to eat a dinner at Greenwood, where thou’lt have the best of victuals, washed down with Madeira fit for Bacchus.”

“Ay,” cried Mr. Meredith, “the rebels have done their best to bring famine to Greenwood, but it shall spread its best to any of his Majesty’s servants.”

“Here ’s loyalty indeed,” said Sir William, heartily, as he leaned in his saddle to shake the squire’s hand.  “Damn your rebel submissions and oaths, not worth the paper they ’re writ on; but good Madeira,—­that smacks loyal and true on a parched tongue and cannot swear false.  Lead the way, Mr. Meredith, and we’ll do as much justice to your wine as later we’ll do to Mr. Washington, if we can ever come up with him.  Eh, Charles?”

The officer addressed, who was frowning, gave an impatient movement in the saddle that seemed to convey dissent.  “Of what use was our forced march,” he demanded, “if not to come up with the fox before he finds cover?”

“Nay, the rebels are so little hampered by baggage that they can outstrip all save our light horse.  And because they have the legs of us is no reason for our starving ourselves; the further they run, the more exhausted they’ll be.”

“Well argued,” chimed in Clowes.  “And your Excellency will find more at Greenwood than mere meat and drink.  Come, squire, name your dame and Miss Janice to Sir William.  In playing quadrille to win, man, we never hold back the queens.”