"What 'bout dat yere Virginia gen'man dey's got up Norf--what 'bout Gin'ral Washington? Do you count, chillun, de's gwine for ter lay stock still when he's got de chance ob nabbin' all dis yere stuff what dey 'lows b'longs to de king? Ef it was some ob yere po' wuffless Northern trash what was runnin' dis yere war for de people ob America, den it might be dat Lord Cornwallis was gwine to turn 'roun' slap when he done got ready. But mark you, chillun, it's one ob our Virginia gen'men dats lookin' after tings. He knows de lan' 'roun' erbout; kase why? Kase he's bin here, chillun; he's bin right on dis yere plantation, an' he knows dat when you strikes de town ob York you'se got to be sumfin like a flea, able to hop a mighty big hop." "Even suppose my Lord Cornwallis does beat back the Americans who are led by one of my countrymen; he might find it very difficult to break through their ranks, if he wanted to go back toward Richmond by the same way he came," Pierre said with a wave of the hand which I never hope to fully describe, for there was ever much of feeling in his gestures. We remained there in the stable yard until the sun was low in the western sky, discussing the situation with Uncle 'Rasmus as our oracle. It is true we lads could not speak intelligently upon military matters, and as I look back now upon that day, I realize how much of folly there was in our words; but our hearts were nigh to bursting with the desire to do something toward ridding our colony of Virginia of those swaggering, insolent, red-coated men, all of whom we believed to be quite as brutal as Colonel Tarleton and his followers. The result of that afternoon's conversation with Uncle 'Rasmus, if such it can be called, was that we three lads decided to go over to York Town, and see for ourselves how the Britishers were disposed there, and what they had done in the way of throwing up fortifications, for word had come through the negroes that not only the town of York, but Gloucester also, was being fortified thoroughly well. It is not above eight miles from our plantation to the town of York, and we counted to ride there and back before the next noon, until Uncle 'Rasmus, as if terrified by such a proposition, insisted that we ought never even think of trusting the horses so near the British encampment. He told us what we very speedily came to know was true, that these servants of the king would not hesitate to despoil us Virginians who might be accused of what they were pleased to term disloyalty, even to the extent of taking from us our lives. I could not then believe the old negro was talking other than veriest nonsense; but before another week had passed I came to understand all too well that we of Virginia who were called rebels, had no rights which these red-coated gentry were bound to respect.