“That is just it,” said Mr. Owen laughing again. “Thee will soon be quite a soldier, Harriet. Here we are at Van Vegthen’s bridge, which is one of three that crosses the Raritan. General Greene, who is acting as quartermaster at present, is encamped here. He hath his quarters in yon dwelling which lies to our left. ’Tis Derrick Van Vegthen’s house, and ye will both meet with him and the general. Mrs. Greene is here, and Mrs. Knox. Ye will like them. Let us ride closer. As ye are unaccustomed to camp life ’twill be a novelty to ye to see the men engaged in their various duties. How busy they are!” From side to side the maidens turned, eager to see all that Mr. Owen pointed out. Quite a village of blacksmith shops, storehouses and other buildings connected with the quartermaster’s department had grown up around the house where General Greene made his headquarters. On the near-by elevation, even then called Mt. Pleasant, his brigade was encamped. As Mr. Owen had said, the scene was a busy one. A company of soldiers was drilling on the open parade ground, while of those who were not on duty some chopped wood which had been brought from the near-by hills, or tended fires over which hung large chunks of meat spitted upon bayonets, while still others could be seen through the open flaps of the tents cleaning their accoutrements. “I should think those tents would be cold,” remarked Peggy with a slight shiver, for although the winter’s day was sunlit, the air was chill. “They are not o’er comfortable, Peggy,” returned her father. “But does thee not see the huts that are in process of construction? General Washington taught the men how to build them, and they will be comfortably housed ere long. Note that they are built without nails, and almost the only tools used are the axe and saw. ’Tis most marvelous that such comfortable and convenient quarters can be made with such little expense to the people.” “The marvel to me,” remarked Harriet Owen thoughtfully, “is that such ill-clad, ill-fed looking troops can stand against our soldiers. Why hath not the British swept them down like chaff before the wind? ’Tis past understanding.” “Because their cause is a righteous one,” said David Owen solemnly. “And because, also, what thou art in the way of forgetting, my little cousin: they are of thine own blood, and therefore fight with the spirit of Englishmen.” “English?” she exclaimed. “English! I had not thought of that, my cousin.” “Consider our case,” he said. “Thou art of the same blood as ourselves. Doth it make a difference in the stock because thou dost happen to live in England, while Peggy there lives in America?” “I had not thought of it in that way,” she said again. “I think the English have not considered it either. I would talk more of the matter, Cousin David, but not now. I have much to think of now. But do you not fear that I shall tell the British about this camp?” added Harriet smiling.