Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-06-29

that Henry threw aside his disguise"
But" said Dunwoodie, turning pale
with suspense. he knew him not as
an officer of the royal army?"
Indeed he did" cried Miss Peyton;
and he cautioned US against this
very danger"
hep at length Dunwoodie asked, with
feyerish impatience.
He bid Henry apply to him when
in danger, and promised to requite the
son for the hospitality Of the father"
said he this, knowing him TO be a
British ofcer?"
Most certainly; and with a view to
this very danger"
Then" cried the youth aloud, and
yielding to his rapture. then you are
safe-then will l save him; yes, Har-
per viii never forget his word"
But has he the power tor" said
purpose of Washington?
Can he! If he can not" shouted
i the youth, If he can not, who can?
Greene, and Health, and young Ham
| ilton are nothing compared to this
! Harper. But rushing to his mistress,
/ and pressing her hands. convulsivelv
| repeat to me-you say you have his
| promise?"
Surely, surely, Peyton; his solemn.
| deliberate promise, knowing all of the
/ circumstances
Rest easy" cried Dunwoodie, hold e.
| ing her to his bosom for a moment,
rest easy, for Henry is safe"
! He waited not to explain, but dart
| ing from the room, he left the family
/ in amazement They continued TO 81
| lent wonder until they heard the feet
| Of his charger, as he dashed from the
| door with the speed of an arrow.
That Dunwoodie's faith in the pow
/ er of Harper was justified came 10
| the Whartons a few hours later with
/ the startling news that Harvey Birch
| disguised as a fanatical minister of
| the gospel, had arranged the escape
| of Henry in a black mask and the
clothes of the faithful Caesar. But
| the same news declared that the
dragons were hot in pursuit Of the flu
gitives.
The prospect of her brothers recap
ture was uncomfortable to Frances.
Believing that the peddler would con-
| duct him to a certain mysterious hut
on the hill. which she had discovered
was one of his hiding places, the girl
resolved to go thither alone and warn
the fugitives of their danger. Her
aunt reluctantly eonsenting Frances
sped through the orchard in the dark =
ness and soon was toiling up the
mountaiuside.
Fortunately. the hill was conical,
like most of the mountains in that
range, and, by advancing upward, she
was certain Of at length reaching the
desired hut, which hung, as It were,
on the very pinnacle. Nearly an hour
did she struggle with the numerous
difficulties that she was obliged to
| overcome. when, having been repeat
eddy exhausted with her efforts, and,
in several instances. in great danger
from falls. she succeeded in gaining
the small piece of table-land on the
summit
No hut. nor any vestige of a hui
man being could she trace. The idea
of her solitude struck on the terri
| fled mind of the affrighted girl
and approaching TO the edge Of the
| shelving rock, she bent forward Ia
gaze on the signs of life in the vale
| when a ray of keen light dazzled her
eyes, and a warm ray diffused itself
over her whole frame Recovering
from her surprise, Frances looked on
the ledge beneath her, and at once
perceived that she stood directly over
the object of her search. A hole
III puS II It's IObl dlAuIu6u a phsSdkH
to the smoke, which, as ii blew aside,
showed her a clear and cheerful fire
cracking and swapping on a rude
hearth Of stone. The approach to
the front of the hut was by a wind
ing path around the point of the
rock on which she stood, and By this
she advanced to its door.
Three sides OF this singular edi-
flee, If such it could be called, were
composed of logs laid alternately on
each ether, to a little more than the
height of a man; and the fourth was
formed by the rock against which 1t
leaned. The rock was made of the
bark of trees, laid in long strips from
the rock to its caves; the assures
between the logs had been stuffed
with clay, which, in many places had
fallen out. and dried leaves were
made use of as a substitute. to keep
out the wind. A single window of
four panes of glass was in front, but
a board carefully closed 1t, in sucn
manner as to emit no light from
the fire within.
After pausing some time to view
this singularly constructed hiding
place, for such Frances well knew it
to be, she applied her eye to a crew
ice to examine the inside. There
was no lamp or candle, put the blaz-
ing fire of dry wood made the inte-
rior of the hut light enough to read
by In one corner lay a ned Of straw,
with a pair of blankets thrown care
lessly over il, as If left where they
had last been used, Against the walls
and rock were suspended, from pegs
forced into the crevices, various gar
ments. and such as were apparently
fitted for all ages and conditions. and
for either sex. British ana American
uniforms hung peaceably by the side
Of each other, and on the peg that
supported a gown of striped calico,
such as was the usual country wear
was also depending a we'll powdered
wig, in short the attire was nu-
mereus and as various as II a whole
parish were TO be equipped from this
one wardrobe.
In the angle against the rock. and
opposite to the fire which was burn
ing in the other corner, was an open
cupboard that held a plate or two.
mug, and the remains of some broken
meat. Before the fire was a table
with one of its legs fractured, and
made of rough boards; these. with
single STOOL composed the furniture,
if we except few articles of cook
ing. \ book that, by its size and
shape, appeared to be a Bible, was
lying on the table, unopened.
But il was the occupant of the hut
in whom Frances was CHIEFLY inter-
eSted This was a man sitting on