On Saturday, the 16th of May, Marquis Lafayette came to our huts and asked me to walk apart with him. We spoke French at his request, as he did not wish to be overheard, and talked English but ill. He said his Excellency desired to have fuller knowledge of the forts on the Neck and at the lower ferry, as well as some intelligence as to the upper lines north of the town. Mr. Hamilton thought me very fit for the affair, but the general-in-chief had said, in his kind way, that I had suffered too much to put my neck in a noose, and that I was too well known in the town, although it seemed to him a good choice. When the marquis had said his say I remained silent, until at last he added that I was free to refuse, and none would think the worse of me; it was not an order. I replied that I was only thinking how I should do it. He laughed, and declared he had won a guinea of Mr. Hamilton. “I did bet on your face, Monsieur Vynne. I make you my compliments, and shall I say it is ‘Yes’?” “Yes; and I shall go to-morrow, Sunday.” And with this he went away. When I told McLane he said it was a pity, because the redcoats were to have a grand fandango on the 18th, and he meant to amuse himself that evening, which he did to some purpose, as you shall hear. I spent the day in buying from a farmer a full Quaker dress, and stained my face that night a fine brownish tint with stale pokeberry juice. It was all the ink we had. Very early on the 17th I rode at dawn with a trooper to my aunt’s house, and in the woods back of it changed my clothes for the Quaker rig and broad-brimmed hat. To my delight, my aunt did not know me when I said I wanted to buy her remaining cow. She was angry enough, until I began to laugh and told her to look at me. Of course she entreated me not to go, but seeing me resolved, bade me take the beast and be off. She would do without milk; as for me, I should be the cause of her death. I set out about six with poor Sukey, and was so bothered by the horrible road and by her desire to get back to her stall that it was near eleven in the morning before we got to town. As usual, food was welcome, and a trooper was sent with me to the commissary at the Bettering-house, where I was paid three pounds six after much sharp bargaining in good Quaker talk. A pass to return was given me, and with this in my pocket I walked away.