Neville Trueman, found ample occupation in ministering to the sick and wounded, and in visiting his scattered flock throughout the invaded territory. He was enabled, incidentally, to render important service to his adopted country. It was toward the end of June, that one afternoon he was riding through the forest in the neighbourhood of the Beaver Dams, near the town of Thorold,--a place which received its name from the remarkable constructions of the industrious animal which has been adopted as the national emblem of Upper Canada,--where there was a small force of British troops posted. In the twilight he observed a travel-worn woman approaching upon the forest pathway, with an air of bodily weariness, yet of mental alertness and anxiety. As she drew near, he recognized a worthy Canadian matron, whom he had, more than once, seen in his congregation in the school-house at the village of Chippewa. "Why, Mrs. Secord!" he exclaimed, reining up his horse as she attempted to pass him, furtively trying to conceal her face, "are not you afraid to be so far from home on foot, when the country is so disturbed?" "Thank God it is you, Mr. Trueman!" she eagerly replied. "I was afraid it might be one of the American scouts. 'Home,' did you say? I have no home," she added in a tone of bitterness. "Can't I be of some service to you? Where is your husband?" Neville asked, wondering at her distraught air. "Haven't you heard?" she replied. "He was sore wounded at Queenston Heights, and will never be a well man again; and our house was pillaged and burned. But we're wasting time; what reck my private wrongs when the country is overrun by the King's enemies? How far is it to the camp?" "Farther than you can walk without resting," he answered." You seem almost worn out." "Nineteen miles I've walked this day, through woods and thicket, without a bit or sup, to warn the King's troops of their danger." "What danger?" asked Neville, wondering if her grief had not somewhat affected her mind. "The enemy are on the move--hundreds of them--with cannon and horses. I saw them marching past my cottage this very morning, and I vowed to warn the King's soldiers or die in the attempt. I slipped unseen into the woods and ran like a deer, through bypaths and, 'cross lots, and I must press on or I may be too late." Not for a moment did this American-born youth hesitate as to his duty to his adopted country. Wheeling his horse he exclaimed, "You brave woman, you've nobly done your part, let me take you to the nearest house and then ride on and give the alarm." "I hoped to have done it myself," she said. "But it is best as it is. Never mind me. Every minute is precious."