"No, I should have gone to Boston with you, to escort Captain Pickett on his return, but I have orders to see my small sister safely to the house and care of our neighbor, Mistress Knollys." "And when are we to meet again?" He spoke earnestly, almost with emotion, for he had come to have a strong affection for this handsome, high-spirited young Colonist, whose face and manner so resembled Dorothy's. "Who can say?" asked Jack, sadly, as the two stood with clasped hands, looking fixedly at one another. "Well, God grant that it be before long, and when our countries are at peace," exclaimed Southorn. "Amen to that," answered Jack. "And," in a voice that trembled, "you will always be good to--" The sentence was left unfinished, while his arm stole about his sister's shoulders. "As God is my witness,--always," was the solemn reply. "And now, Dot," said her brother, with a contented sigh, and speaking in a more cheerful tone, as if now throwing off all his misgivings, "you must bid Captain Southorn farewell for a few days, and we will get under way. But first I have to go with him and report to Captain Ireson." She held out both hands to her husband, who bent over and pressed them to his lips. "You will surely come when I send?" he asked softly. She nodded, looking up at him through her tears. In half an hour the party of soldiers, with Dorothy and her brother, took the way to Dorchester, Hugh appearing at the last moment to say farewell, as his duty called him in another direction. And it was not long before a smaller party, bearing a flag of truce, set out with Captain Southorn, to effect his exchange for Captain Pickett. The following day Farmer Gilbert was brought before General Washington, who listened gravely to his attempted justification. Then, after a stern rebuke, so lucid and emphatic as to enlighten the man's dull wits, now made somewhat clearer by his confinement and enforced abstinence, he was permitted to go his way. A week after this, little Mistress Southorn was escorted to the British lines and handed over to her waiting husband; and a few days later, a transport sailed, taking back to England some disabled officers and soldiers, as well as a small number of royalists, who were forced to leave the country for the one whose cause they espoused too openly. Dorothy was standing by the ship's rail, alone, her husband having left her for a few minutes. She was busy watching the stir and bustle of departure, when she recognized, in a seeming farmer who had come aboard with poultry, the pedler, Johnnie Strings. The sight of his shrewd face and keen little eyes brought to her mingled feelings of pleasure and alarm, and, wondering what his mission could be, she hurried toward him. "Oh, Johnnie, is it safe for you to be here?" she exclaimed, as she grasped his hand.