For whose sake? Chapter 39

Meanwhile, Cleve, Palma, their children, servant, and, last and loftiest, The O’Melaghlin were coming over as fast as wind and steam could bring them.

They had unusually fine weather for the whole trip. They made some very pleasant acquaintances, and formed some very fast friendships among their fellow passengers, with whom they were all very popular.

The eccentricities of The O’Melaghlin were endless sources of amusement to the passengers as to our own 384party, to whom they were also causes of frequent annoyance.

For instance, O’Melaghlin always addressed Mr. Cleve Stuart as “Wolfscliff.” And not infrequently, when he had had too much wine for dinner, the chieftain would hail his friend from across the table as “O’Wolfscliff,” or speak of him to another person as “The O’Wolfscliff.”

Besides this, he would reiterate, in season and out of season, his injunction that Mr. and Mrs. Cleve Stuart should preserve, inviolate, the secret of his relationship to Mike and Judy.

“Moind ye don’t let on to them,” he repeated. “I am to be inthrodooced as a frind of your own, claiming, in right of you, the hospitality of Misther and Misthress Randolph Hay. And I am to have a week or tin days to observe me childer before they suspect me. That will lave me find them out as they are widout pritinces. Do ye moind?”

“Oh, yes,” Stuart would reply, heartily tired, yet half amused at the man’s persistence.

“And yerself will not brathe a syllable that will lave them suspict I’m anything to themselves, Misthress Stuart?” he persevered, turning to Palma.

“Not a syllable, O’Melaghlin,” she answered.

This funny persecution ceased for the time, to be renewed as soon as they landed at Liverpool, and continued all the way from that city to York, and from there to Chuxton.

“Not a hint, not a breath, not a look, to bethray to the childer that they behold in me the father of them, and a discindint of the ancient kings of Meath,” he said, as the train drew into the Chuxton station.

“‘Not a hint, not a breath, not a look’ from us shall betray your secret, O’Melaghlin,” Cleve assured him.

“No, indeed,” Palma added.

“Be the powers, if ye bethray me, I nivir spake to aither of yez again.”

“There,” said Stuart, as they all rose to leave the train, “there is Mr. Randolph Hay himself come in the barouche to meet us.”

“Where?” demanded The O’Melaghlin.

“There, on the other side of the road. That gentleman in the open carriage with the fine bays and the footman in russet livery,” replied Cleve, pointing to the “turnout.”

385“Be the club of Konn! That foine fellow the son-in-law of meself!”

“Yes, indeed!”

“The gintleman that married me Judy when she was a nady orphan, and he didn’t suspict she could be the daughter of a hundred kings?”

“The very same.”

“Let me at him!” exclaimed The O’Melaghlin, pushing to the front and passing through the crowd on the platform to the side of the barouche, just as Ran got down from his seat to welcome his friends.

“I’m The O’Melaghlin, Misther Hay. And it’s proud I am to make the acquaintance of ye. You’re a noble man, that ye are—that ye are. Wolfscliff is behoind. I could not wait for him to inthrodooce you. But I’m The O’Melaghlin, and you are Misther Hay!” he exclaimed, seizing the hand of Ran and shaking it to nearly dislocation.

Ran was somewhat dismayed, not knowing how to account for this overwhelming salute that almost deprived him of the power to respond, and say:

“I am very happy to meet you, Mr. O’Melaghlin.”

“Misther?” repeated the chief, prompt to take exception to such a common title applied to himself.

But fortunately Stuart came up, shook hands with Ran and then presented Palma, who was warmly welcomed by her cousin.

“And now, Wolfscliff, will ye be afther inthrodoocing Misther Hay to meself?” demanded Ran’s father-in-law.

“Pardon, I thought you had,” said Stuart.

“Divil a bit could I do that same to his intilligince,” replied the other.

“Then I will have that honor,” laughed Stuart.

And assuming the courtly dignity of a lord chamberlain at a royal reception, he bowed to the descendant of Irish kings, and with a wave of his hand, to indicate the inferior person, said:

“The O’Melaghlin, of Arghalee, I have the honor to present to you, sir, Mr. Randolph Hay, of Haymore.”

Ran bowed very solemnly, conscious now that he stood in the presence of an “eccentric.”

“And, sure, meself fales honored in the relationship—I mane the acquaintanceship,” graciously replied The O’Melaghlin, 386feeling, however, that he had almost betrayed himself.

“Will you take seats in the carriage now? My servants are here with the break and a van to bring your people and luggage,” said Ran.

Cleve bowed and handed Palma to a back seat, and The O’Melaghlin to a place beside her. Then he took a front seat, where Ran joined him, and the barouche started for Haymore Hall.

The drive through the beautiful country, now in the glory of early summer, charmed both Cleve and Palma.

“It is a boundless Garden of Eden!” exclaimed the latter.

But beauty and glory in nature was quite lost on The O’Melaghlin, who employed the time in descanting to his son-in-law upon the ancient royalty and grandeur of the O’Melaghlins until the carriage turned into the park gate, where Longman stood to welcome them.

“There, that was a foine sivin-footer—that retainer of yours, Haymore. Jist such min me ancestor, Roderick O’Melaghlin, last monarch of Meath, had for his bodyguard, armed with spears and battle-axes, iviry man of them,” said the chieftain, as the carriage rolled up the avenue toward the house.

When it drew up in front of the Hall, there stood Mike and Judy, the beautiful young pair, as much alike in their dark loveliness as twin brother and sister could possibly be. Both in evening dress; Mike in the conventional black swallowtail and patent leathers, with a sprig of shamrock in his buttonhole in honor of the visitor. Judy in a dark blue satin dress, trained, and with low body and short sleeves, showing the plump neck and round arms, which were now dimly veiled with fine lace and adorned with the Haymore diamonds in honor of the guests.

Behind them stood an array of servants.

“There is your son and daughter, O’Melaghlin,” whispered Palma in the ear of the chief, as he sat beside her.

He looked out and saw the beautiful pair, with their lovely faces lighted up now with the joy of expectancy.

“What! thim? You don’t mane thim!” he exclaimed, gazing at them.

“Yes, I do. They are Mike and Judy.”

“Och! let me at thim—the angels!—the beauties! They 387are both the imidge of their mother, me sainted Moira! Let me at thim!”

And with a bound The O’Melaghlin was out of the barouche and tearing up the stairs to the presence of his astonished children.

Forgotten were all his plans of secrecy and covert observation. The father’s pride and joy in the Irishman’s warm heart overbore all resolutions, and he fell upon his son and daughter with ravenous delight.

“And so ye are me own childer—me Mike and me Judy! And the jewels that ye are!” he exclaimed.

But it was Judy he clasped to his breast and covered with kisses.

“Oh, Mike! Mike! save me!” exclaimed the frightened and distressed daughter.

“Will ye be afther kapin’ yer hands to yerself?” exclaimed Mike, who thought the stranger was a maniac, and tried to separate him from the terrified victim. But Mike was no match for The O’Melaghlin.

“Aisy! aisy!” exclaimed the chieftain. “It’s jealous ye are of me affection for the sister av ye! But your turn will come nixt, me bhoy!”

Fortunately Ran, to whom Cleve had hastily communicated the now open secret, came hurrying up the stairs, leaving Stuart and Palma for the moment in the barouche.

“Stop! stop! Mike, my lad! The gentleman is your father. Yes, dear Judy, your father. Do not be afraid of him,” he exclaimed, coming to the rescue with the explanation.

“Yis, darlint Judy, it’s the fayther av ye that’s pressin’ ye to this throbbin’ heart av him! It’s the fayther av ye, me foine Mike, that will make ye the lawful heir av the oldest name and richest estate in ould Ireland! Yis, I meant to have kept that same a secret till I had watched the natures av ye both for a wake or two, but me affections were too much for me.”

While he spoke he was kissing Judy, patting Mike on the shoulder or embracing them both and holding them together to his breast.

At last, quite overcome by his emotion, he sank down upon the top step and covered his face with his hands to 388hide the tears that might have seemed a reproach to the descendant of the warlike monarchs of Meath.

Mike and Judy raised him up with tender care and led him into the hall and thence into the drawing-room, while the old butler, without waiting orders, went and brought a tray with a decanter of brandy and a glass.

The O’Melaghlin saw the elixir of life and revived at the sight.

Meanwhile Ran returned to the barouche to conduct Stuart and Palma to the house.

“He made me and my wife swear by all the saints in Christendom that we would not betray his secret until he himself should give us leave, and lo! he has blurted it out himself,” laughed Stuart.

“Yes. He seems a very eccentric person, this unexpected father-in-law of mine. Yet I like what I have seen of him,” replied Ran.

“You will like him better. The longer you know him the more you will esteem him. And if you will consider the eccentricities of his fate and fortune, you will understand and forgive the eccentricities of his character,” replied Cleve.

And then they followed their host into the house and into the drawing-room, where they found The O’Melaghlin seated on a sofa between his son and daughter, with his left arm around Judy’s waist, and in his right hand a wineglass of brandy which he sipped at intervals, while Mike held the decanter ready to replenish the glass when necessary.

But as soon as Ran came in with the Stuarts The O’Melaghlin gave the glass to Judy to hold and went to meet them.

He seized the hand of Ran, and shaking it again cruelly and almost to dislocation, exclaimed:

“Me son-in-law! Me brave, good, thrue bhoy! I have not yet greeted ye, nor wilcomed ye as me son-in-law! But now I will do it, with the highest praise mortal man could give ye. I will say: Haymore, sir, ye are worthy to be the husband of me daughter Judy and the daughter of a thousand kings.”

“I thank you, sir. I am sure that is the highest praise you could give me. I hope it is true,” gallantly replied Ran.

389Servants were at hand to show the guests to their apartments.

Mike did the honors to his father, and accompanied him to the apartments prepared for him.

Judy attended Palma to the beautiful suit of rooms that had been fitted up for Mr. and Mrs. Stuart and their children.

There Judy for the first time made acquaintance with Palma’s lovely children, whom she found already on the nursery cot, asleep and attended by the faithful Hatty.

“Why, when did these beauties come? Why have I not seen them before?” demanded Judy.

“They came in the second carriage with Hatty and Josias. I would trust them with those two as confidently as with myself and their father,” replied Palma.

“And I was so taken by surprise at the sudden meeting with my father that I forgot even to inquire after the darlings! I beg your little pardons!” said Judy, kneeling by the side of the children’s cot and kissing their sleeping faces.

At dinner the newly arrived visitors met the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who had been invited to meet them. Jennie—the Countess Dowager of Engelmeed—being in deep mourning for her husband, did not go out or receive visitors.

A week of idleness on the part of all the family followed at Haymore Hall.

After that questions of importance were taken up.

It was decided that The O’Melaghlin, with Mr. and Mrs. Hay and Mr. and Mrs. Stuart and Mike, should set out on an excursion to Arghalee Castle and find lodging at Arghalee Arms, and from that vantage point investigate the ancient ruins and see what could be done toward the successful restoration of the castle, also open negotiations with the duke’s legal steward if possible to repurchase all the land that had once constituted the Arghalee estate.

All this was happily effected in the course of a few months—for The O’Melaghlin stopped at nothing in his eager desire to restore the ancient magnificence and splendor of his house; and so he paid twice the worth of the land to get it back, and fabulous sums to the antiquaries and architects to restore the castle and the chapel in all their pristine strength and glory.

390The Stuarts remained at Haymore until the last of the summer and then bade affectionate adieus to the Hays and returned to Virginia.

This was the first of many visits, which the Hays often returned.

That autumn Mike was entered as Michael O’Melaghlin, master of Arghalee, in one of the best preparatory colleges in Glasgow.

That winter, when “Burke’s Landed Gentry” appeared, under the name of Hay it contained this item:

Hay, Randolph, born January 1, 185—, succeeded his father March 1, 187—, married December 2, 187—, Judith, only daughter of Michael, The O’Melaghlin, Chief of Arghalee, Antrim.

And the anxious soul of Will Walling, when he received a copy of the book with the marked passage, was entirely satisfied.

And New Year’s Day brought Ran and Judy a New Year’s gift, in the form of a son and heir, which filled the hearts of the parents with bliss.

THE END BURT’S SERIES of STANDARD FICTION.

RICHELIEU. A tale of France in the reign of King Louis XIII. By G. P. R. James. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

In 1829 Mr. James published his first romance, “Richelieu,” and was recognized at once as one of the masters of the craft.

In this book he laid the story during those later days of the great cardinal’s life, when his power was beginning to wane, but while it was yet sufficiently strong to permit now and then of volcanic outbursts which overwhelmed foes and carried friends to the topmost wave of prosperity. One of the most striking portions of the story is that of Cinq Mar’s conspiracy; the method of conducting criminal cases, and the political trickery resorted to by royal favorites, affording a better insight into the statecraft of that day than can be had even by an exhaustive study of history. It is a powerful romance of love and diplomacy, and in point of thrilling and absorbing interest has never been excelled.

A COLONIAL FREE-LANCE. A story of American Colonial Times. By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

A book that appeals to Americans as a vivid picture of Revolutionary scenes. The story is a strong one, a thrilling one. It causes the true American to flush with excitement, to devour chapter after chapter, until the eyes smart, and it fairly smokes with patriotism. The love story is a singularly charming idyl.

THE TOWER OF LONDON. A Historical Romance of the Times of Lady Jane Grey and Mary Tudor. By Wm. Harrison Ainsworth. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by George Cruikshank. Price, $1.00.

This romance of the “Tower of London” depicts the Tower as palace, prison and fortress, with many historical associations. The era is the middle of the sixteenth century.

The story is divided into two parts, one dealing with Lady Jane Grey, and the other with Mary Tudor as Queen, introducing other notable characters of the era. Throughout the story holds the interest of the reader in the midst of intrigue and conspiracy, extending considerably over a half a century.

IN DEFIANCE OF THE KING. A Romance of the American Revolution. By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

Mr. Hotchkiss has etched in burning words a story of Yankee bravery, and true love that thrills from beginning to end, with the spirit of the Revolution. The heart beats quickly, and we feel ourselves taking a part in the exciting scenes described. His whole story is so absorbing that you will sit up far into the night to finish it. As a love romance it is charming.

GARTHOWEN. A story of a Welsh Homestead. By Allen Raine. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

“This is a little idyl of humble life and enduring love, laid bare before us, very real and pure, which in its telling shows us some strong points of Welsh character—the pride, the hasty temper, the quick dying out of wrath.... We call this a well-written story. Interesting alike through its romance and its glimpses into another life than ours. A delightful and clever picture of Welsh village life. The result is excellent.”—Detroit Free Press.

MIFANWY. The story of a Welsh Singer. By Allan Raine. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

“This is a love story, simple, tender and pretty as one would care to read. The action throughout is brisk and pleasing; the characters, it is apparent at once, are as true to life as though the author had known them all personally. Simple in all its situations, the story is worked up in that touching and quaint strain which never grows wearisome, no matter how often the lights and shadows of love are introduced. It rings true, and does not tax the imagination.”—Boston Herald.

DARNLEY. A Romance of the times of Henry VIII. and Cardinal Wolsey. By G. P. R. James. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

As a historical romance “Darnley” is a book that can be taken up pleasurably again and again, for there is about it that subtle charm which those who are strangers to the works of G. P. R. James have claimed was only to be imparted by Dumas.

If there was nothing more about the work to attract especial attention, the account of the meeting of the kings on the historic “field of the cloth of gold” would entitle the story to the most favorable consideration of every reader.

There is really but little pure romance in this story, for the author has taken care to imagine love passages only between those whom history has credited with having entertained the tender passion one for another, and he succeeds in making such lovers as all the world must love.

WINDSOR CASTLE. A Historical Romance of the Reign of Henry VIII. Catharine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn. By Wm. Harrison Ainsworth. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by George Cruikshank. Price, $1.00.

“Windsor Castle” is the story of Henry VIII., Catharine, and Anne Boleyn. “Bluff King Hal,” although a well-loved monarch, was none too good a one in many ways. Of all his selfishness and unwarrantable acts, none was more discreditable than his divorce from Catharine, and his marriage to the beautiful Anne Boleyn. The King’s love was as brief as it was vehement. Jane Seymour, waiting maid on the Queen, attracted him, and Anne Boleyn was forced to the block to make room for her successor. This romance is one of extreme interest to all readers.

HORSESHOE ROBINSON. A tale of the Tory Ascendency in South Carolina in 1780. By John P. Kennedy. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

Among the old favorites in the field of what is known as historical fiction, there are none which appeal to a larger number of Americans than Horseshoe Robinson, and this because it is the only story which depicts with fidelity to the facts the heroic efforts of the colonists in South Carolina to defend their homes against the brutal oppression of the British under such leaders as Cornwallis and Tarleton.

The reader is charmed with the story of love which forms the thread of the tale, and then impressed with the wealth of detail concerning those times. The picture of the manifold sufferings of the people, is never overdrawn, but painted faithfully and honestly by one who spared neither time nor labor in his efforts to present in this charming love story all that price in blood and tears which the Carolinians paid as their share in the winning of the republic.

Take it all in all, “Horseshoe Robinson” is a work which should be found on every book-shelf, not only because it is a most entertaining story, but because of the wealth of valuable information concerning the colonists which it contains. That it has been brought out once more, well illustrated, is something which will give pleasure to thousands who have long desired an opportunity to read the story again, and to the many who have tried vainly in these latter days to procure a copy that they might read it for the first time.

THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. A story of the Coast of Maine. By Harriet Beecher Stowe. Cloth, 12mo. Illustrated. Price, $1.00.

Written prior to 1862, “The Pearl of Orr’s Island” is ever new; a book filled with delicate fancies, such as seemingly array themselves anew each time one reads them. One sees the “sea like an unbroken mirror all around the pine-girt, lonely shores of Orr’s Island,” and straightway comes “the heavy, hollow moan of the surf on the beach, like the wild angry howl of some savage animal.”

Who can read of the beginning of that sweet life, named Mara, which came into this world under the very shadow of the Death angel’s wings, without having an intense desire to know how the premature bud blossomed? Again and again one lingers over the descriptions of the character of that baby boy Moses, who came through the tempest, amid the angry billows, pillowed on his dead mother’s breast.

There is no more faithful portrayal of New England life than that which Mrs. Stowe gives in “The Pearl of Orr’s Island.”

THE SPIRIT OF THE BORDER. A Romance of the Early Settlers in the Ohio Valley. By Zane Grey. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

A book rather out of the ordinary is this “Spirit of the Border.” The main thread of the story has to do with the work of the Moravian missionaries in the Ohio Valley. Incidentally the reader is given details of the frontier life of those hardy pioneers who broke the wilderness for the planting of this great nation. Chief among these, as a matter of course, is Lewis Wetzel, one of the most peculiar, and at the same time the most admirable of all the brave men who spent their lives battling with the savage foe, that others might dwell in comparative security.

Details of the establishment and destruction of the Moravian “Village of Peace” are given at some length, and with minute description. The efforts to Christianize the Indians are described as they never have been before, and the author has depicted the characters of the leaders of the several Indian tribes with great care, which of itself will be of interest to the student.

By no means least among the charms of the story are the vivid word-pictures of the thrilling adventures, and the intense paintings of the beauties of nature, as seen in the almost unbroken forests.

It is the spirit of the frontier which is described, and one can by it, perhaps, the better understand why men, and women, too, willingly braved every privation and danger that the westward progress of the star of empire might be the more certain and rapid. A love story, simple and tender, runs through the book.

CAPTAIN BRAND, OF THE SCHOONER CENTIPEDE. By Lieut. Henry A. Wise, U.S.N. (Harry Gringo). Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

The re-publication of this story will please those lovers of sea yarns who delight in so much of the salty flavor of the ocean as can come through the medium of a printed page, for never has a story of the sea and those “who go down in ships” been written by one more familiar with the scenes depicted.

The one book of this gifted author which is best remembered, and which will be read with pleasure for many years to come, is “Captain Brand,” who, as the author states on his title page, was a “pirate of eminence in the West Indies.” As a sea story pure and simple, “Captain Brand” has never been excelled, and as a story of piratical life, told without the usual embellishments of blood and thunder, it has no equal.

NICK OF THE WOODS. A story of the Early Settlers of Kentucky. By Robert Montgomery Bird. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

This most popular novel and thrilling story of early frontier life in Kentucky was originally published in the year 1837. The novel, long out of print, had in its day a phenomenal sale, for its realistic presentation of Indian and frontier life in the early days of settlement in the South, narrated in the tale with all the art of a practiced writer. A very charming love romance runs through the story. This new and tasteful edition of “Nick of the Woods” will be certain to make many new admirers for this enchanting story from Dr. Bird’s clever and versatile pen.

GUY FAWKES. A Romance of the Gunpowder Treason. By Wm. Harrison Ainsworth. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by George Cruikshank. Price, $1.00.

The “Gunpowder Plot” was a modest attempt to blow up Parliament, the King and his Counsellors. James of Scotland, then King of England, was weak-minded and extravagant. He hit upon the efficient scheme of extorting money from the people by imposing taxes on the Catholics. In their natural resentment to this extortion, a handful of bold spirits concluded to overthrow the government. Finally the plotters were arrested, and the King put to torture Guy Fawkes and the other prisoners with royal vigor. A very intense love story runs through the entire romance.

TICONDEROGA: A Story of Early Frontier Life in the Mohawk Valley. By G. P. R. James. Cloth, 12mo. with four page illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

The setting of the story is decidedly more picturesque than any ever evolved by Cooper: The frontier of New York State, where dwelt an English gentleman, driven from his native home by grief over the loss of his wife, with a son and daughter. Thither, brought by the exigencies of war, comes an English officer, who is readily recognised as that Lord Howe who met his death at Ticonderoga. As a most natural sequence, even amid the hostile demonstrations of both French and Indians, Lord Howe and the young girl find time to make most deliciously sweet love, and the son of the recluse has already lost his heart to the daughter of a great sachem, a dusky maiden whose warrior-father has surrounded her with all the comforts of a civilized life.

The character of Captain Brooks, who voluntarily decides to sacrifice his own life in order to save the son of the Englishman, is not among the least of the attractions of this story, which holds the attention of the reader even to the last page. The tribal laws and folk lore of the different tribes of Indians known as the “Five Nations,” with which the story is interspersed, shows that the author gave no small amount of study to the work in question, and nowhere else is it shown more plainly than by the skilful manner in which he has interwoven with his plot the “blood” law, which demands a life for a life, whether it be that of the murderer or one of his race.

A more charming story of mingled love and adventure has never been written than “Ticonderoga.”

ROB OF THE BOWL: A Story of the Early Days of Maryland. By John P. Kennedy. Cloth, 12mo. with four page illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

It was while he was a member of Congress from Maryland that the noted statesman wrote this story regarding the early history of his native State, and while some critics are inclined to consider “Horse Shoe Robinson” as the best of his works, it is certain that “Rob of the Bowl” stands at the head of the list as a literary production and an authentic exposition of the manners and customs during Lord Baltimore’s rule. The greater portion of the action takes place in St. Mary’s—the original capital of the State.

As a series of pictures of early colonial life in Maryland, “Rob of the Bowl” has no equal, and the book, having been written by one who had exceptional facilities for gathering material concerning the individual members of the settlements in and about St. Mary’s, is a most valuable addition to the history of the State.

The story is full of splendid action, with a charming love story, and a plot that never loosens the grip of its interest to its last page.

BY BERWEN BANKS. By Allen Raine.

It is a tender and beautiful romance of the idyllic. A charming picture of life in a Welsh seaside village. It is something of a prose-poem, true, tender and graceful.

IN DEFIANCE OF THE KING. A romance of the American Revolution. By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.

The story opens in the month of April, 1775, with the provincial troops hurrying to the defense of Lexington and Concord. Mr. Hotchkiss has etched in burning words a story of Yankee bravery and true love that thrills from beginning to end with the spirit of the Revolution. The heart beats quickly, and we feel ourselves taking a part in the exciting scenes described. You lay the book aside with the feeling that you have seen a gloriously true picture of the Revolution. His whole story is so absorbing that you will sit up far into the night to finish it. As a love romance it is charming.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
  1. P. 235, “Here am” inserted for illegible characters. 7 characters because capital H and lower m are each nearly 2 characters wide. Barely visible in original edition and reprint—defective typeface in original.
  2. P. 302, changed “in Sahara” to “in the Sahara”.
  3. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling.
  4. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.

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