security with his peril in that place on a former occasion. The trampling of horses at a distance elicited from Elizabeth the words, "The Hessian patrol, on the Albany road, as usual, I suppose." But, the clatter increasing, she arose and looked through the narrow slit whereby light was admitted between the almost closed shutters. After a moment she said, in unconcealed alarm: "Oh, heaven! 'Tis a party of Lord Cathcart's officers! They said at King's Bridge they'd come one day to pay their respects. How can I keep them out?" Peyton arose, but remained by the fireplace, and said, "To keep them out, if they think themselves expected, would excite suspicion. I will go to my room." Elizabeth, meanwhile, had opened the window to draw the shutter close; but her trembling movement, assisted by a passing breeze, and by the perversity of inanimate things, caused the shutter to fly wide open. She turned towards Peyton, with signs of fright on her face. "Back!" she whispered. "They'll see you through the window. Into the closet,--the closet!" She motioned imperatively towards the pair of doors immediately beside him, west of the fireplace. Hearing the horses' footfalls near at hand, and perceiving, with her, that he would not have time to walk safely across the parlor to the hall, he opened one of the doors indicated by her, and stepped into the closet. In the instant before he closed the door after him, he noticed the stairs descending backward from the right side of the closet. He foresaw that the British officers would come into the parlor. If they should make a long stay, he might have to change his position during their presence. He might thus cause sufficient sound to attract attention. He would be in better case further away. Therefore, using his stick and feeling the route with his hand, he made his way down the steps to a landing, turned to the right, descended more steps, and found himself in a dark cellar. He had no sooner reached the last step than a burst of hearty greetings from above informed him the officers were in the parlor. This part of the cellar being damp, he set out in search of a more comfortable spot wherein to bestow himself the necessary while. Groping his way, and travelling with great labor, he at last came into a kind of corridor formed between two rolls of piled-up barrels. He proceeded along this passage until it was blocked by a barrel on the ground. On this he sat down, deciding it as good a staying-place as he might find. Leaning back, he discovered with his head what seemed to be a thick wooden partition close to the barrel. Changing his position, he bumped his head against an iron something that lay horizontally against the partition, and so violent was this collision that the iron something was moved from its place, a fact which he noted on the instant but immediately forgot in the sharpness of his pain.