as I could, passing a village at sunrise, where I asked my way in
French at a smithy. Beyond there was a narrow clearing, stumpy and
rank with briers, on the up-side of the way. Presently, looking
over a level stretch, I could see trees arching the road again,
from under which, as I was looking, a squad of cavalry came out in
the open. It startled me. I began to think I was trapped, I
thought of dodging into the brush. But, no; they had seen me, and
I would be a fool now to turn fugitive. I looked about me. Cows
were feeding near. I picked up a stick and went deliberately into
the bushes, driving one of them to the pike and heading her toward
them. They went by at a gallop, never pulling up while in sight of
me. Then I passed the cow and went on, stopping an hour later at a
lonely log house, where I found French people, and a welcome that
included moose meat, a cup of coffee, and fried potatoes. Leaving,
I rode some miles with a travelling tinker, a voluble, well-meaning
youth who took a liking for me, and went far out of his way to help
me on. He blushed proudly when, stopping to mend a pot for the
cook at a camp of militia, they inquired if I was his wife.

"No; but she may be yet," said he; "who knows?"

I knew it was no good place for me, and felt some relief when the
young man did me this honor. From that moment they set me down for
a sweetheart.

"She 's too big for you, my boy," said the general, laughing.

"The more the better," said he; "can't have too much of a good
wife."