“Good God! General Mifflin!” cried Washington, “I am afraid you have ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the troops from the lines.” “I did so by your order,” replied Mifflin with some warmth. “It cannot be!” exclaimed Washington. “By G—, I did!” was the blunt rejoinder. “Did Scammel act as aide-de-camp for the day, or did he not?” “He did.” “Then,” said Mifflin, “I had orders through him.” “It is a dreadful mistake,” rejoined Washington, “and unless the troops can regain the lines before their absence is discovered by the enemy, the most disastrous consequences are to be apprehended.” Mifflin led back his men to the lines, which had been completely deserted for three quarters of an hour. Fortunately, the dense fog had prevented the enemy from discovering that they were unoccupied. The men resumed their former posts, and remained at them until called off to cross the ferry. “Whoever has seen troops in a similar situation,” writes General Heath, “or duly contemplates the human heart in such trials, will know how to appreciate the conduct of these brave men on this occasion.” The fog which prevailed all this time, seemed almost providential. While it hung over Long Island, and concealed the movements of the Americans, the atmosphere was clear on the New York side of the river. The adverse wind, too, died away, the river became so smooth that the row-boats could be laden almost to the gunwale; and a favoring breeze sprang up for the sail-boats. The whole embarkation of troops, artillery, ammunition, provisions, cattle, horses and carts, was happily effected, and by daybreak the greater part had safely reached the city, thanks to the aid of Glover’s Marblehead men. Scarce any thing was abandoned to the enemy, excepting a few heavy pieces of artillery. At a proper time, Mifflin with his covering party left the lines, and effected a silent retreat to the ferry. Washington, though repeatedly entreated, refused to enter a boat until all the troops were embarked; and crossed the river with the last.