I followed his long forefinger with my eyes, and saw the tips of Philadelphia's spires, a most stimulating sight. Philadelphia was then our largest, richest, and most important city. The great Declaration had been made there, and in a way we considered it our capital. It had been a heavy blow to us, when we were forced to yield it to Howe, and now when his successor, Clinton, felt himself obliged to give it back to us, our spirits, so long depressed, sprang up with a bound. "Aye, it's Philadelphia," said Wildfoot, "and we've worked and waited long to get it back again." I thought I saw a mist appear in the eyes of the strong backwoodsman, and I knew that he was deeply moved. Certainly no one had worked more than he, and perhaps none other had taken such great risks. He was entitled to the honor of leading the vanguard. We expected to find skirmishers and bands of the British prepared to make our way troublesome; but we met no foe and galloped, unopposed, into the city, from which the British had gone but a few hours, and from which more than three thousand Tories, too, had fled. The departure of the enemy had been so abrupt, and we were so close behind, that several British officers, either laggards or late risers, were captured by our men, and our little troop, scattering, galloped about the streets, hoping to take more such trophies. Marcel and I turned into one of the cross streets, and saw a hundred yards ahead of us two officers in red-coats, riding at a great rate. "British!" cried Marcel. "So they are!" I replied, "and they must be ours!" We were wild with enthusiasm, and even with General Washington's lesson fresh in our memories, we thought little of consequences while in that state of mind. We shouted to our horses, and followed the Englishmen at full speed, eager to make the capture. They heard the clattering of hoofs, and, seeing us, fled at a greater speed. We were but two, and no doubt they would have turned and fought us; but they knew the American army to be at our back, and there was nothing for them to do but gallop. On they sped, lashing their horses, and after them came Marcel and I, also lashing our horses. The dust flew from the street, and pedestrians scuttled to safety. "It will be something for us to talk of if we take them!" said Marcel. "It must be done!" I replied, as I sought to draw more speed from my panting horse. The distance between us was decreasing, slowly it is true, but yet at a rate that could be noticed. I called Marcel's attention to our gain, and his face flushed with the hope of triumph. "We shall take them to the general himself," he said, "and it will help us in his eyes."