At last this general of the king who had boasted that he would come down and drive all the rebels out from Virginia, regardless of what that "French boy, Lafayette, might do," was making ready to run away--to run away from those American soldiers whom the Britishers did not believe could fight, although certain it is they had good proof of it at Bunker Hill in the colony of Massachusetts, and were they not getting more proof now? Was there a red-coat in all our village of York who had not come to realize, and would be willing to admit, that the so-called rebels who fought under every disadvantage and bore patiently every suffering, could stand at their guns as bravely as any who wore his majesty's uniform? It was a moment when I was more proud than I have ever since been in my life, proud of my people, not of myself, and with the pride came a feeling of sad disappointment because I had not been able to contribute anything to this downfall of the swaggering Britishers. I had hoped we might enroll a full company of Minute Boys who despite their age would earn the right to serve as soldiers, and yet had I accomplished nothing save coming into this village in the vain hope of being able to regain possession of my horse, remaining here almost as much of a prisoner as either Abel Hunt or Horry Sims. The news was too good to be kept to myself, and regarding not Pierre's movements I ran at full speed back to old Mary's cabin, shouting as I burst through the door: "The Britishers are getting ready to run away! Cornwallis has grown frightened, and is giving up the fight!" "How know you that?" Saul cried sharply, seizing me by the shoulder as if forcing me to give proof, and at the same instant I heard the prisoners in the loft stirring as if in fear, while Horry Sims asked, although knowing full well his companion could not answer a question: "Do you believe it possible my Lord Cornwallis would really run away?" "He is getting ready to run away!" I shouted triumphantly. "Even now the baggage is being carried to the river bank; all the spare horses are tethered there, and save for the few soldiers who are left in the works, there is no further heed being given to what our people are doing!" "Bress de Lawd! Bress de Lawd!" Uncle 'Rasmus cried in a fever of ecstasy. "I'se done been certain ole Marse would help dribe de red-coats out ob Virginia; but I neber dreamed dey'd get so scared as to run away. Bress de Lawd! Bress de Lawd!"