Elsie Yachting with the Raymonds. Finley Martha

and directly afterward another passed through the horse's mane, a little back of his ears. Then his aide said, 'General, it is evident that you are marked out for particular aim; would it not be prudent for you to retire from this place?' 'My duty forbids me to retire from danger,' Frazer answered; and the next moment he fell. That is Lossing's account; and he goes on to say that Morgan has been censured for the order by some persons, professing to understand the rules of war, as guilty of a highly dishonourable act; also by others, who gloat over the horrid details of the slaying of thousands of humble rank-and-file men as deeds worthy of a shout for glory, and have no tears to shed for the slaughtered ones, but affect to shudder at such a cold-blooded murder of an officer on the battle-field. But, as Lossing justly remarks, the life of an officer is no dearer to himself, his wife, and children, than that of a private to his, and that the slaying of Frazer probably saved the lives of hundreds of common soldiers."

      "Yes, Papa," returned Max, thoughtfully; "and so I think Morgan deserves all praise for giving that order to his men. If Frazer did not want to lose his life, he should not have come here to help crush out liberty in this country."

      "Papa, do you think he hated the Americans?" asked Lulu.

      "No, I presume not; his principal motive in coming here and taking an active part in the war was probably to make a name for himself as a brave and skilful officer, – at least, so I judge from his dying exclamation, 'Oh, fatal ambition!'"

      "How different he was from our Washington," exclaimed Max. "He seemed to want nothing for himself, and sought only his country's good. Papa, it does seem to me that Washington was the greatest mere man history tells of."

      "I think so," responded the Captain; "he seems to have been so entirely free from selfishness, ambition, and pride. And yet he had enemies and detractors, even among those who wished well to the cause for which he was doing so much."

      "Such a burning shame!" cried Lulu, her eyes flashing. "Was Gates one of them, Papa?"

      "Yes; to his shame, be it said, he was. He treated Washington with much disrespect, giving him no report whatever of the victory at Saratoga. It was not until early in November that he wrote at all to the commander-in-chief, and then merely mentioned the matter incidentally. In that month Gates was made president of the new Board of War and Ordnance, and during the following winter he joined with what is known as the 'Conway cabal' in an effort to supplant Washington in the chief command of the army."

      "What a wretch!" exclaimed Lulu. "It would have been a very bad thing for our cause if he had succeeded, – wouldn't it, Papa?"

      "Without doubt," answered the Captain; "for though Gates had some very good qualities, he was far from being fit to fill the position held by Washington."

      "He wasn't a good Christian man, like Washington, was he, Papa?" she asked.

      "No, not by any means at that time, though it is said – I hope with truth – that he afterward became one. He was arrogant, untruthful, and had an overweening confidence in his own ability. Yet he had some noble traits; he emancipated his slaves, and provided for those who were unable to take care of themselves. Also, he was, it is said, a good and affectionate husband and father."

      "Papa, wasn't it known whose shot killed Frazer?" queried Max.

      "Yes; it was that of a rifleman named Timothy Murphy. He was posted in a small tree, took deliberate aim, and saw Frazer fall. Frazer, too, told some one he saw the man who shot him, and that he was in a tree. Murphy was one of Morgan's surest shots."

      "I should think he must always have felt badly about it, only that he knew he did it to help save his country," said Lulu.

      "It seemed to be necessary for the salvation of our country," replied her father; "and no doubt that thought prevented Murphy's conscience from troubling him."

      "Didn't the Americans at first fire on the funeral procession, Papa?" asked Lulu.

      "Yes; but ceased as soon as they understood the nature of the gathering, and at regular intervals the solemn boom of a single cannon was heard along the valley. It was a minute-gun, fired by the Americans in honour of their fallen foe, the gallant dead. Ah, here we are at his grave!" added the Captain, as horses and vehicle came to a standstill and the carriage-door was thrown open.

      They alighted and walked about the grave and its monument, pausing to read the inscription on the latter.

      "Though an enemy to our country, he was a gallant man, a brave and good soldier," remarked the Captain, reflectively.

      "Yes, Papa; and I can't help feeling sorry for him," said Lulu. "I suppose he had to obey his king's orders of course; he couldn't well help it, and probably he had no real hatred to the people of this country. It does seem hard that he had to die and be buried so far away from all he loved."

      "Yes," said Max; "but he had to be killed to save our country, since he would use his time and talents in trying to help reduce her to slavery. I'm sorry for him, too; but as he would put his talents to so wrong a use, there was no choice but to kill him, – isn't that so, Papa?"

      "I think so," replied the Captain; "but it was a great pity. Frazer was a brave officer, idolized by his own men, and respected by even his enemies."

      "It seems sad he should lie buried so far away from all he loved, – all his own people; and in a strange land, too. But he could hardly lie in a lovelier spot, I think," remarked Lulu; "the hills, the mountains, the beautiful river, the woods, the fields, and these tall twin pine-trees standing like sentinels beside his grave, – oh I think it is just lovely! I think he showed excellent taste in his choice of a burial-place."

      "Yes, nice place enough to lie in, if one could only be on top of the ground and able to see what it's like," came in hollow tones, seemingly from the grave.

      The Captain glanced at his son with a slightly amused smile.

      Lulu was startled for an instant; then, with a little laugh, as her father took her hand and led her back to the waiting carriage, "Oh, Maxie, that was almost too bad, though he was an enemy to our country!" she exclaimed.

      "I wouldn't have done it if I'd thought it would hurt his feelings," returned Max, in a tone of mock regret; "but I really didn't suppose he'd know or care anything about it."

      "Where now, sir?" asked the driver as the Captain handed Lulu to her seat.

      "To the Schuyler mansion," was the reply.

      "Oh, I'm glad we're going there!" exclaimed Lulu. "I've always liked everything I've heard about General Schuyler; and I'll be ever so glad to see the house he used to live in."

      "It isn't the same house that Burgoyne caroused in the night after the battle of Bemis Heights, is it, Papa?" asked Max.

      "No; that was burned by Burgoyne's orders a few days later," replied the Captain.

      "And when was this one built?" asked Lulu.

      "That is a disputed point," said her father. "Some say it was shortly after the surrender in 1777; others, not until soon after the peace of 1783."

      "Anyhow it was General Schuyler's house, and so we'll be glad to see it," she said. "Papa, is it on the exact spot where the other – the first one – was? The one Burgoyne caroused in, I mean."

      "They say not, quite; that it stands a little to the west of where the first one did."

      "But General Schuyler owned and lived in it, which makes it almost, if not quite, as well worth seeing as the first one would have been," said Max.

      "Yes," assented the Captain. "It was on his return from Bemis Heights that Burgoyne took possession of the mansion for his headquarters; that was on the evening of the 9th of October. His troops, who had been marching through mud, water, and rain for the last twenty-four hours, with nothing to eat, encamped unfed on the wet ground near Schuylerville, while he and his cronies feasted and enjoyed themselves as though the sufferings of the common soldiery were nothing to them."

      "Wasn't that the night before the day the Baroness Riedesel went to the Marshall place?" queried Max.

      "Yes," replied his father. "Her husband, General Riedesel, and others, urgently remonstrated against the unnecessary