It was sometimes the temper of the British in our country to boast and to show arrogance even when sore outwitted and outfought by us, and then to wonder why we did not love them. Perhaps this fault was not theirs, exclusively. "Likely enough this silence is some new trick," said Belfort, "some scheme to draw us into another ambush." "I suspect that you speak the truth," replied Barton. "Stand close, men. We have suffered too much already to risk another trap." The men were quite willing to obey his order and stand close. Thus we waited. Blake revived by and by, and a careful examination showed that he had no bones broken, though he was sore in every muscle and still somewhat dazed in mind. But he was urgent in entreating his officers not to take excessive risks. "I fancy that we have nothing to do but to wait here," said Barton to him, "for the rebels will of a surety attack us again very soon." But in this Barton was mistaken, for the Americans seemed to have gone away. We waited a full hour, and then, as they gave no evidence of being anywhere near us, a small scouting-party was sent out, which presently returned with word that they were in truth gone, and that the woods were empty. "They feared to attack us when we were on our guard," said Barton, triumphantly. "There is naught for us to do now but to go and escort the wagon-train back to the city." We gathered up the wounded and rode over the ridge in search of the wagon-train. We found with ease the tracks of the wheels and followed them towards the city, expecting to overtake the wagons. Presently, as we turned around a hill, we rode almost full tilt into three or four of them lying upon the ground, too much shattered and broken ever to be of use again. In his surprise Barton reined back his horse against mine, for I rode just behind him. "What is this?" he exclaimed. "It seems that we have the wagon-train, or what is left of it," said Marcel. "There is a placard; it may inform us." A pine board was stuck in a conspicuous place upon one of the wagons, and some words had been written upon it with a piece of charcoal. We rode forward and read,-- "To Sir William Howe or His Representative. For the Wagons and their Contents We Are Much Indebted As we were Hungry And You Have Fed Us. We Give You Leave to Take Repayment At Such Time and Place As You May Choose. "WILLIAM WILDFOOT." Barton swore in his rage. It was easy enough to see now why the patriots had withdrawn after the first attack. The provision-train was more valuable than arms or prisoners to the American army, and, barring the broken wagons, Wildfoot and his men had carried off everything. Nor were the British in any trim to pursue, a business at which, most like, they would have had their faces slapped. Barton swore with a force and fluency that I have seldom heard surpassed, and Blake said with a melancholy smile,--