"It is some dispatch," said Betty breathlessly. "Did you not see the bag
he carried at the saddle? And there is my father--oh, Sally, I wonder if
there be news from General Washington and the army?" and struck by the
sudden fear of ill-tidings the girls ran hastily from the room.

In the wide hall stood Miss Bidwell, and beside her the stranger,
saddle-bag in hand, as Miss Euphemia emerged from the dining-room,
whence General Wolcott had preceded her.

"From the commander-in-chief, general," said the courier, touching his
battered hat in salute, "and special dispatches from General Steuben.
Also this private packet, which was lying waiting at King's Bridge Inn;
I have been four days on the road, owing to my horse having lamed
himself when near Chatham, and I could not make time on the nag which
stands at your door."

"King's Bridge," murmured Miss Euphemia; "then there is news of
Clarissa. Brother, have I your permission?"--as General Wolcott gave the
small packet into her hand.

"Break the seals," said the general briefly, "and bring me the letters
presently to my study. See that the horse and man be well taken care of;
I may have to dispatch instant answer to these," and he went quickly
down the hall, closing the door behind him.

With fingers that trembled somewhat, Miss Euphemia opened the cover, and
disclosed three letters to the eager eyes of the girls, who stood
breathless beside her.

"One for your father (it is Gulian Verplanck's hand), this for me, from