Such were the doings, on the windy night, beyond Locust Hill, while Elizabeth Philipse and her aunt sat drinking tea by candle-light before a sputtering wood fire. Elizabeth having set the example, the others in the house went about their business, despite the firing so plainly heard. Black Sam had, after Elizabeth's arrival, returned from the orchard, whither he had gone late in the day, lest he might attract the attention of some dodging whale-boat or skulking Whig to the few remaining apples. He had been let in at a rear door by Williams, who had repressed him during the visit of the American dragoons,--for Sam was a sturdy, bold fellow, of different kidney from the dapper, citified Cuff. At Williams's order he had made a roaring fire in the east parlor, to the great comfort of old Mr. Valentine, and was now putting the dining-room into a similar state of warmth and light. Williams was setting out provisions for Molly presently to cook; and the maid herself was, with Cuff's assistance, replenishing the hall chandelier with fresh candles. The sound of firing had put Elizabeth's black boy into a tremulous and white-eyed state. When Molly, who stood on the settle while he handed the candles up to her, assured him that the firing was t'other side of Locust Hill, that the bullets would not penetrate the mahogany door, and that anyhow only one bullet in a hundred ever hit any one, Cuff affrightedly observed 'twas just that one bullet he was afraid of; and when, at the third discharge, Molly dropped a candle on his woolly head, he fell prostrate, howling that he was shot. Molly convinced him after awhile that he was alive, but he averred he had actually had a glimpse of the harps and the golden streets, though the prospect of soon possessing them had rather appalled him, as indeed it does many good people who are so sure of heaven and so fond of it. He had been reassured but a short time, when he had new cause for terror. Again a horse was heard galloping up to the house. It stopped before the door and gave a loud whinny. [Illustration: "LEANED FORWARD ON THE HORSE'S NECK."] Molly exchanged with Cuff a look of mingled wonder, delight, and doubt; then ran and opened the front door. "Yes!" she cried. "It is! It's Miss Elizabeth's horse! It's Cato!" Cuff ran to the threshold in great joy, but suddenly stopped short. "Dey's a soldier on hees back," he whispered. So Molly had noticed,--but a soldier who made no demonstration, a soldier who leaned forward on the horse's neck and clutched its mane, holding at the same time in one hand a broken sword, and who tried to sit up, but only emitted a groan of pain. "He's wounded, that's it," said Molly. "Go and help the poor soldier in, Cuff. Don't you see he's injured? He can't hurt you."