She loosed her hands and drew away from me, and leaned against the wall, not looking toward me. "I think," she said in a stifled voice, "you are to have your wish this night.... Do you hear anything?" In the intense stillness, straining my ears, I fancied presently that I heard a distant sound in the night. But if it had been so it died out, and the beat of my heart was louder. Then, of a sudden, I seemed to hear it again, and thought it was my pulses startled by sudden hope. "What is that sound?" I whispered. "Do you hear it?" "Aye." "I hear it also.... Is it imagination? Is there a horse on the highway? Why, I tell you there is!... There _is_! Do you think he rides express?" "Out o' the North, my lord," she whispered. And suddenly she turned, gave me a blind look, stretched out one hand. "_Why_ do you think that horseman comes for me!" I said. My imagination caught fire, flamed, and I stood shivering and crushing her fingers in my grasp. "Why--why--do you think so?" I stammered. "He's turned into William Street! He gallops this way! Damnation! He heads toward the Hall!--No! _No!_ By God, he is in our street, galloping--galloping----" Like a pistol shot came a far cry in the darkness: "Express-ho! I pass! I pass!" The racket of iron-shod hoofs echoed in the street; doors and windows flew open; a confusion of voices filled my ears; the rattling roar of the hoofs came to a clashing halt. "Jimmy Burke's Tavern!" shouted a hoarse voice. "Ye're there, me gay galloper!" came Burke's bantering voice. "An' phwat's afther ye that ye ride the night like a banshee? Is it Sir John that's chasin' ye crazy, Jock Gallopaway?" "Ah-h," retorted the express, "fetch a drink for me and tell me is there a Mr. Drogue lodging here? Hey? Upstairs? Well, wait a minute----" I still had Penelope's hand in mine as in the grip of a vise, so excited was I, when the express came stamping up the stairs in his jack-boots and pistols--a light-horseman of the Albany troop, who seemed smart enough in his mud-splashed helmet and uniform. "You are Mr. Drogue, sir?" "I am." He promptly saluted, fished out a letter from his sack and offered it. In my joy I gave him five shillings in hard money, and then, dragging Penelope by the hand, hastened to break the numerous and heavy seals and open my letter and read it by the candle's yellow flare. "Headquarters Northern Dist: Dept: of Tryon County. Albany, N. Y. August 1st, 1777. _Confidential_ "To John Drogue, Esqr, Lieut: Rangers. Sir, "An Oneida runner arrived today, who gives an account that Genl St. Leger, with the corps of Sir John Johnson and Colonel John Butler, including a thousand savages under Joseph Brant, has been detached from the army of Genl Burgoyne, and is marching on Fort Schuyler.