She posted a maid in the cupola of the great square mansion, with orders to report to her by signals how Putnam was progressing. It was a season of extreme drought, and the dense clouds of dust made it easy to follow his march. At the proper time Mrs. Murray sent a negro servant with a cordial invitation to General Howe and his staff to dine with her. This genial Quaker lady was not unknown to the Britishers, for they had met her in England. Here was an opportunity to renew the acquaintance of peaceful days, but duty first, for a general. “I do thank you, madam,” was Howe’s courteous reply, “but I must first catch that rascally Yankee, Putnam.” “Did thee not hear he had gone?” was her quick rejoinder. “It is too late to catch him. Pursuit is hopeless. Thee had better come in and dine.” If Putnam was really out of reach there was no need for haste, and the day was sweltering. So across the broad veranda and into the cool attractive house went Howe, with Clinton and Cornwallis and Governor Tryon, and others of his staff. Outside, in the hot September sun, his men rested and prepared and ate their midday meal. Within, Mrs. Murray and her beautiful daughters proved charming hostesses, with a warm welcome for their English guests. The good merchant, who was known to be heartily loyal to the king, was not at home that day, but his rare old Madeira was served with dainty cakes after the dinner. So witty and delightful was the talk, so keenly did the others enjoy Tryon’s raillery of their hostess about her patriot friends and how the ragged Continentals had run that morning, that not one of them noticed the rapid flight of time. And you may be sure that Mistress Murray prolonged their stay, bearing the teasing with rare good humor and making herself thoroughly agreeable, for every moment gained would count. Meanwhile, half a mile to the west, Putnam was hurrying northward, his march greatly hampered by his cannon, his camp impedimenta, and the refugee women and children. Terribly they suffered from the heat. Alexander Hamilton gallantly led one company. A young major, Aaron Burr, acted as guide, for he knew every foot of the ground; riding back and forth he showed the patriots bypaths and lanes through the thickets, until ahead they saw Washington’s tents on the heights of Harlem, and knew they were safe. Through Mrs. Murray’s hospitality the British had lost their chance to take four thousand prisoners. Her own wit and her husband’s wine had saved the day.