So Mistress Jean bade us all good-bye right prettily, and I, being on the off side of her horse from the others, seized her hand as it hung by her side and kissed it several times. She at first did not withdraw it, and then, bending over, whispered, "Do not try to enter the city, for they will hang thee, and I would not lose so true a friend." Here her voice was very soft and low. I kissed her hand once again and she was gone. We watched their dark shadows down the road to the Highland outpost, as they moved like great blots across the snow. I stood, I do not know how long, gazing after them, when Dick's hand was on my shoulder. "Never mind, Frisby," said he, "we shall win the city in the spring, and then you may win her also." CHAPTER XVI THE BALL OF MY LORD HOWE Many a night after that last parting I stood guard on that dreary outpost, gazing out across the snow at the dim lights of the city far to the eastward. Aye, for the city was gay that winter, gay with parties and dances, balls and dinners, and the bells rang as merrily as if we were not starving and dying out on the bleak, hillsides. Aye, those old burghers were warm and comfortable as they sat by their fires, with a glass of their wine or toddy at their side. True, my Lord Howe ruled the city with an iron hand, but he was a gallant gentleman, and his officers made good partners for their fair daughters at the balls. They were handsome in their scarlet uniforms, with their epaulets and their sabres, making, indeed, a very gallant show, while those ragged patriots out upon the snow had not shoes to their feet, and were altogether too disreputable to be admitted even to the kitchens of their houses. Then, again, runs not the Quaker law, "Thou shalt not fight"? And so the good old burghers threw another log on the fire and sat down to enjoy the cheerful blaze. The news came to us, sifted through the lines; we heard of their dances and their balls, and everywhere we heard that Mistress Jean Gordon was the belle of them all. The old Tory held high rank in the counsels of Lord Howe, and the daughter, by her grace and beauty, reigned it over the hearts of every gallant gentleman of his army. We heard of her refusing my Lord Paulet and several other gentlemen, noted among us for their hard fighting, whenever by chance we were opposed to them. And I, standing guard on the outpost, chafed in vain when I heard these tales, until one day chance decided me to risk all, to see her once more with my own eyes, and perhaps speak to her. There had been a skirmish on the outposts that day, and our men had captured an English officer, a Captain of the line. He was a talkative man, and while he was waiting to be sent to the rear as a prisoner we entertained him at our mess table, and he in turn told us the news of the town. "That must be a wonderful country, what do you call it, that eastern shore of yours?" said he, "if it contains any more beauties like Mistress Jean Gordon."