He went on loading and firing, peering this way and that through the smoke to get a glimpse of the red-coats. Far off he saw officers galloping to and fro, and he wondered if one of them could be Godfrey Spencer. He hoped the cruel fortune of war would not bring them together on the battle-field. So, for hour after hour through the long afternoon, the fight went on, the skirmishers bravely holding their position. To right and left, where the morass ended, there was a constant panorama of moving cavalry, infantry and guns. The roar of battle echoed miles away, and the smoke floated overhead on the still air. The heat was terrific, and men dropped, fainting and exhausted, to the ground. Not since Bunker Hill had the American army shown such desperate valor. In vain Clinton thundered and stormed at the centre. In vain did Lord Cornwallis assail Sterling's invincible left wing. The approach of evening found both armies still holding their ground, and now a large force of the British advanced on the American right wing. But a spare battery hastened to that quarter, unlimbered their guns, and poured into the enemy such a storm of shot and shell as drove them back in confusion. Part of an infantry brigade--mostly grenadiers--passed near the strip of woods. The skirmishers had just turned their fire in this direction when a mounted officer arrived with orders to charge on the enemy's flank. With ringing cheers the Pennsylvania regiment poured out from the trees, Captain Stanbury's Wyoming company in front; and a double-quick trot brought them to close quarters with the rear of the British. The grenadiers doggedly kept up the retreat, firing as they went, and many fell on both sides. Most of the enemy's officers were far in front, and Nathan felt sure that he recognized Godfrey's figure at a distance. But one mounted officer, seeing what was taking place, pluckily galloped back to the rear to try to rally the broken lines. He ventured too far, and a shot brought horse and rider to the ground. Before his own men could rescue him, the front line of the Americans was nearly at the spot. Barnabas and Nathan had seen the occurrence, and they ran up to the officer just as he struggled to his feet from under the body of his horse. At the first glance Nathan recognized Major Langdon, and he was quick to observe the half healed scar on his left wrist. [Illustration: "SURRENDER!" YELLED BARNABAS] "Surrender!" yelled Barnabas, presenting his musket at the officer's head. Major Langdon glanced around, bit his lip passionately, and then dropped his half-drawn sword into its scabbard. "The fortune of war has made me your prisoner," he said proudly; "I am an officer and a gentleman, and I demand proper treatment." "You Britishers never were backward about demandin'," snorted Barnabas. "Fall to the rear now."