comrade, as he would have been to fight with him, on the smallest provocation. "Well, I'm in my own house, any how, and I will do as I choose, and I'd like to see the man who will interfere with me. I'll offer a toast, and you can drink it, or not,” said Corbie, filling a glass for himself, and without waiting for any reply, he exclaimed; "Here's to the King and his cause, God bless " He had not time to finish his sentence, for Gray, the Connecticut farmer, sprung forward, and dashing the contents of his glass in the landlord's face, seized him by the neck, and fairly choked the words down his throat. Forbes and the other Tories sprang to the assistance of their friend. Weapons which hitherto had been concealed, were now drawn forth, and a general and desperate affray seemed inevitable. At this juncture, the door of the tap-room was thrown open, and a tall, commanding-looking man, with a sergeant's chevron on his arm, and bearing a musket, entered, and advanced between the contending parties: "Silence!" he exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, as he saw the position of affairs; "silence, and disperse, or I'll put every man in the guard-house." "And who the devil are you?" exclaimed Forbes, glaring at the intruder. "I am the sergeant of the guard, and if you don't cease from brawling, I'll march every man to the guard house. Corbie!" and he turned to the landlord, who, released from the vice-like grasp of the young giant, was adjusting his rumpled shirt and cravat, "I shall report your house as disorderly, and have it shut up at once, if I hear any more of this again." "I don't keep a disorderly house, Sergeant Drake, and you know it. I've got a right to speak my mind in my own house, I'm thinking." "You shan't drink such an infernal Tory toast as that in my presence, if it was ten times your house," exclaimed Gray, the young Connecticut soldier, whose blood was now at fever heat. 66 Come, disperse, and let's have no more words about it," said the sergeant. "You, Forbes, are always mixed up with some brawl, or doing something worse. Go home, and don't compel me to make you." "I'd like to see you do it," said the gunsmith, sulkily. "That is easily done," replied the sergeant, turning to the door, and advancing, as if about to give the order for the guard to advance; but he was interrupted by Corbie, who passed rapidly from behind the bar, and laid his hand upon the soldier's arm, gently. "Please don't, Sergeant Drake; it's not my fault, and it will only hurt me, you know, without doing you any good," and he winked so significantly, that the color came to the sergeant's face, for the truth was, he had taken many a sly glass with Corbie, for which he was never required to pay. "Well," he said, half hesitatingly, "I will pass this over, but Ah, Hickey!" he said, for the first time perceiving the life-guardsman, who had managed thus far to keep out of the sergeant's sight, "I was looking for you, but did not expect to find you here. I have left orders for you to report to Major Burr, at headquarters, to-morrow at six o'clock.” Hickey's countenance fell as these words were uttered, and he turned from the speaker to Forbes and Corbie, as if to ask them what it meant. The sergeant was at that moment engaged in looking around among the inmates of the room, and did not perceive this movement; if he had, he would have noticed that glances full of meaning were exchanged between the trio. Very well, sir,” replied the guardsman, touching his cap, for he was by these words under orders, and without a reply, except to bid the assemblage good night, he left the room, and proceeded to his barracks near the "Richmond Hill House." "Sergeant, you had better take something; it won't do you any harm, and it's a nasty, wet night," said Corbie, going behind the bar, and while speaking he poured out a tumbler two-thirds full of Jamaica rum, which he handed to the sergeant, who tossed it off with a relish that showed he was well acquainted with the flavor of that liquor. "Now, then, good night," he said, smacking his lips, and trailing his musket, he started for the door; but before he reached it, turned and said: "Now, boys, no more brawling nor quarrelling." 66 Oh, no, of course not," chorused the party, Whigs and Tories, glad to have escaped thus easily from a night's sojourn in the guard-house. "Come, boys, empty your glasses without the toast," said Corbie, as the door closed on the retreating form of the sergeant. "It's getting on to nine o'clock, and you've all got to be at quarters by that time, according to orders. Forbes," he said, turning to the gunsmith, "it's a miserable night. Do you stay here with me; you couldn't get through the lines in time, I'm sure." "Thank'ee, Corbie, I will,” replied Forbes, and he drained his glass, an example which was followed by the party, who strolled out, one by one, until at length the landlord and the gunsmith were alone. “That was a narrow escape, Forbes," said the burly landlord, as he proceeded to close his house, locking and barring the doors and windows, a precaution rendered very necessary, for often parties of straggling Whigs, who had been caught outside of the lines after hours, would force an entrance into his house, and compel him to entertain them until morning, when they would depart, leaving the host to collect his reckoning as he could. "The boat will be along before a great while, and |