We remarked that the danger from the marauding Tory bands, prevented Mr. Fisher from visiting his home, but at long intervals. There was one band of Tories notorious for its cruelty, headed by one Blindberry, a most bloodthirsty wretch, whose memory to this day, is only preserved to be execrated. This fellow was the terror of the whole community. On one occasion, after having been absent for six months, Mr. Fisher's anxiety to see his family, became so great, that one evening he cautiously approached the house, and was admitted unseen. Late that night, after he had retired, steps were heard without, and presently there was a loud knocking at the door, with a peremptory summons for it to be opened. This not being heeded, it was repeated, with a threat to break open the door, if it was not complied with. The house was a simple old-fashioned cottage, the door opening directly into a room, which was used by Mr. Fisher and his wife as a sleeping room. The party now discharged their pistols three or four times through the window, but the balls lodged harmlessly in the walls. This proceeding effecting nothing, they begun at once to demolish the door, and in a few moments they burst roughly into the room. Mr. Fisher sprung from the bed, prepared to defend his wife and himself to the last. But the only object of this band was plunder. In those times, the country people were compelled to convert their effects into money, as every thing moveable, would be sure to be captured, and having no means of investing their wealth, it was generally concealed in secure places. But these concealments rarely availed them any thing, if their persons should fall into the hands of the Tories, as every means of torture that ingenuity could suggest, was availed of to force the hapless victims to betray the hiding place of their wealth. Hanging, roasting over slow fires, or a pistol at the head, were the usual modes adopted.