“Ye’d betther,” remarked the old man with a grin, “or I’ll make ye sorry.” “Now, what could you do?” asked the Colonel with an amused smile. The old man sidled up beside the bridle of the Colonel’s horse, and in a tone of mock solemnity, while his eyes sparkled with fun, whispered, “I’d put the curse of Cramwell an ye.” “Say, friend,” said Morton, “there is something about you that tells me you are an old soldier. Were you ever in the army?” “Yis, but not in yer riffraff that ye’s call an army.” “You are mistaken in me,” replied Morton, and drawing aside his cloak showed the scarlet coat of the British service. “An’ how did ye fall in wid dem rebels? A prisoner are ye, God save us! You’ll be Leftenant Morton that was to be hanged, as I heard tell. Well, well, since ye wern’t born to be hanged, it is drownded ye may be. Av coorse I was in the army an’ got me discharge an’ a grant of land from King George, an’ may the divil catch a hould o’ dem that don’t wish him well.” “Are all your neighbors of the same mind?” asked the Colonel. “They are that same. Come wid me to my shanty an’ while I sind for ’im, you will have an illigant dinner of praties an’ milk. There is not wan on the frontier that does not say with Capt. Barron, God bless the King an’ canfound his inimies.” “Thank you,” answered the Colonel, “but I have other fish to fry today. Tell me this, old man, What difference would it make to you and your neighbors that you should eat your potatoes and milk under the Stars and Stripes instead of the Union Jack?” “Sure, that’s aisy answered. The differ between atin’ in an inimy’s house an’ aitin’ in yer awn.” “Come, Morton, we lose time. Good-bye, old man,” and putting spurs to his horse the Colonel galloped to regain his place in the column, followed by Morton. By noon the scouts had reached the Chateaugay, which they forded without hesitation and advancing on a shanty that stood on the bank, surprised its inmates, a party of Canadian volunteers on outpost duty, while taking an afternoon nap. This capture was of advantage to the Americans, for it delayed by several hours intelligence of their invasion being received at the British headquarters. Shortly afterwards Col. Vanderberg arrived, who, without halting for refreshment, accompanied Gen. Izard down the river some distance, examining the country. On returning, men were set to work to prepare a camp for the main army, which he knew was on the march. A thorough soldier, well trained in bush fighting, the Colonel made his arrangements with an acumen and decision that increased Morton’s regard for him. Before sunset a line of scouts was established across the valley, a strongly fortified post established, tents pitched, and a messenger sent with a despatch to Hampton informing him all was ready. Not until then, did the Colonel divest himself of his long-boots and draw up beside the log-fire of the shanty of one Spears to discuss the fare his servant had provided. CHAPTER XI.