In a few moments I was beyond the line of their fire, and, rejoicing over my escape from present dangers, was meditating how to escape from those of the future, when a shot was fired from a new point of the compass, and some one cried out: “Shoot him, the Yankee spy! the damned rebel! Don’t let him escape!” And in good truth those to whom he spoke this violent command obeyed with most alarming promptness, for several muskets were discharged instantly and the bullets flew about me. I turned back with surprising quickness and fled toward the American camp, more shots pursuing me, but fortune again saving me from their sting. I could hear the Englishmen repeating their cries to each other not to let the rebel spy escape. Then I bethought me it was time to stop, or in a moment or two I would hear the Americans shouting to each other not to let the infernal British spy escape. I recognized the very doubtful nature of my position. It seemed as if both the British and American armies, horse and foot, had quit their legitimate business of fighting each other and had gone to hunting me, a humble subaltern, who asked nothing of either just then but personal safety. Was I to dance back and forth between them forever? Some lightning thoughts passed through my mind, but none offered a solution of my problem. Chance was kinder. I stumbled on a stone, and flat I fell in a little gully. There I concluded to stay for the while. I pressed very close against the earth and listened to a rapid discharge of rifles and muskets. Then I perceived that I had revenge upon them both, for in their mutual chase of me the British and American skirmishers had come much closer together, and were now engaged in their proper vocation of shooting at each other instead of at me. I, the unhappy cause of it all, lay quite still, and showered thanks upon that kindly little gully for getting in my way and receiving my falling body at such an opportune moment. The bullets were flying very fast over my head, but unless some fool shot at the earth instead of at a man I was safe. The thought that there might be some such fool made me shiver. Had I possessed the power, I would have burrowed my way through the earth to the other side, which they say is China. It was the battle of Blenheim, at least, that seemed to be waged at the back of my head, for my nose was pressed into the earth and my imagination lent much aid to facts. I seemed to cower there for hours, and then one side began to retreat. It was the British, the Americans, I suppose, being in stronger force and also more skillful at this kind of warfare. The diminishing fire swept back toward the British lines and then died out like a languid blaze. I heard the tramp of feet, and a heavy man with a large foot stepped squarely upon my back. “Hello!” said the owner. “Here’s one, at least, that we’ve brought down!” “English, or Hessian?” asked another.