The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1888-12-12

help YOU, Fred" was all the burgomas-
ter could say. Then he went to the
box, put his hand in and drew. 1t was
the fatal red. With groan he turned
to his betrothed, But she, too, had
fallen to the ground and was lying
there motionless.
A week later Fred Muller was march
ing far away with his comrades, but he
carried with him in his heart the image
of her he loved.
CHAPTER II.
A year had passed. 1t was now 1777.
The Hessians had long since been trans
ported to the colonies, where they had
done bloody service for England. I'm
able to understand the language of the
people, brutal, avaricious, they showed
no mercy to fallen foe. They ravaged
the country and insulted defenceless
women and children. The British not
only had not restrained them, but had
even melted them to further deeds of
violence, which the inhabitants of the
country over which they marched
viewed with horror. Their deeds
stirred the Americans to desperation
and No quarter to the bloody Hes
SLAMS" became the watchword of all.
Meanwhile Howe had entered Phila-
delpha. He saw that it was necessary
for him to hold the country round in
complete subsection, and to this end
he proceeded to send out expeditions
in various directions. One of these,
against the forts on the Delaware, was
intrusted to Count Donop and his Hes
SLAMS Away with this expedition went
our friend, Fred Muller. He was still
the same simple, honest peasant as of
old, though the privations of war had
changed him considerably. He had
picked up sufficient English to know
that he and his comrades were heartily
detested by the American people. The
injustice of the cause he was fighting
for ranked deep in his breast, while
the barbarities of his comrades filled
him with loathing. He thought of de-
sertion, but to him, simple peasant that
he was, honor was the abiding princi-
pie of life and he would not break the
oath of allegiance he had taken to the
English government. He kept him
self aloof from his comrades and earn
estly endeavored to rise from the ranks.
And so he marched on and on, dis
gusted with his associations, but power
less to better his position.
Fort Mercer, one of the forts COM
manding the Delaware, lay on the edge
of thick forest, General Greene being
in command. 1t was a warm day in
October and the garrison drowsily at
tended to its duties or sought shady
sleeping places under the trees. Sud-
denly the sentinel at the gates was
startled by an approaching rider. He
rushed to the gate, unfastened it and
threw it open, and an officer of the
garrison dashed hastily in.
"To arms!" he cried, /" the enemy
are at hand"
Soon the Hessians, one thousand two
hundred strong, emerged from the for
est. Count Donop demanded the sur
render of the garrison, but it was re-
fused. Then the Hessians made all
assault and carried the outworks.
Hardly shot disputed their advance.
The fort was silent as the tomb. Would
Greene surrender? On dashed the
Hessians, flushed with victory. Donop
led the attack from the south side in
person. Next him stood Muller, pale
but determined. The excitement of
the struggle was upon him and his
nerves were strung to the highest ten
sion. Nearer and nearer came the
Hessians, when like flash the garrison
sprang into action. From every side
the cannon were turned on the advan-
cling foe. Undismayed, Donop dashed
on. Over the ditch he went and on to
the rampant. Past him sprang Muller,
determined to he first at the top. He
scales the rampant. he waves the flag
aloft in triumph. a cheer broke from
the Hessians, but the next moment he
was lying dead in the ditch.
a brave deed" mutters Donop,
and he pressed on, only to fall mortaliy
wounded. And now the fire of the
garrison grew fiercer. The enemy
wavered, broke and fled. Night came
and put an end to the conflict. The
moon and stars shed their pale radiance
on the scene beneath. Lying in the
ditch, his face upturned to heaven, was
Muller, and his breast formed pillow
for his dying commander, as his life
blood ebbed slowly away.
A deserter bore the tidings of Null
ler's fate to his native village. One
maiden mourned away her life in sor-
row for him, and so the story of two
lives is finished.-NeU York Mail and
! ErnreSS nrize storm bu IS1nc Moss