let it go to the devil, where it belongs. So come, you must go dine with me,
and I'll show you a lovelier woman than either of those that rode

in the chair that day."
I went with him, and was introduced to his wife, a lovely woman indeed!

to whom, with great glee, he related" target="_blank" title="a.叙述的；有联系的">related the whole history of the chase,
and his own narrow escape, and then laughed very heartily. But not so

his gentle partner. For, as he told of the shrill whizzing of our swords
close behind him, and of the groans of his dragoons as they fell,

cut down from their horses, her face turned pale, and pensive;
then, looking at him with great tenderness, she heaved a deep sigh,

to think how near her husband had been to death.
Meriot looked with pleasure on the troubled countenance of his lovely wife,

because he well knew the fond source of her troubles. Then, snatching up
a goblet of sangree, richly mantled over with nutmeg, he presented it

to her ruby lips, saying, "Come, my dear, drink, and forget the past!" Then,
taking my hand with great cordiality, he exclaimed, "Well, colonel Horry,

we have been foes, but thank God, we are good friends again.
And now let me drink to you a sentiment of my heart,

`Here's friendship in marble, enmity in dust.'"
The behavior of this noble Englishman, has often served to deepen

my abhorrence of WAR, which too frequently sets those to cutting
each other's throats, who were born to be brothers.

But to return to our story. "Meriot," you'll say, "and his brother officer,
brought `their pigs to a bad market'." Yes, indeed: but not a jot worse

than some of their friends came to the very day afterwards.
On the morning of that day, Marion, now concealed in the swamps,

near Georgetown, was pleased to order me out on a second excursion.
"Take captain Snipes," said he, "with thirty men, and proceed

down the Sandpit road, in quest of the enemy. The moment you discover them,
whether British or tories, charge with spirit, and I'll warrant your success."

As we approached the bridge, still moving on very circumspectly, in the woods,
we discovered at a short distance, a body of horsemen, perhaps a hundred,

apparently in great confusion, and very anxious to form.
Instantly we took the road, and clapping spurs to our horses,

dashed upon them at full speed, at the same time shouting as we rushed on.
The enemy broke and fled in all directions. We pursued.

Then you might have seen the woods all covered with armed men;
some flying, others pursuing; and with muskets, and pistols, and swords,

shooting and cutting down as fast as they could.
From the unevenness of the ground, and rapidity of the charge,

my men were all soon out of sight, leaving with me but a lad of fourteen,
named Gwinn, who carried a musket. At that instant,

a party of nine or ten men were seen advancing, whom I took for whigs,
and challenged as such, asking if they were not friends?

"Friends! O yes!" replied their captain, (one Lewis) "friends to be sure;
friends to king George!"

Quick as thought, off went Gwinn's musket, close by my side,
and down tumbled captain Lewis from his horse, with a heavy squelch,

to the ground. But in the very instant of receiving his death,
his musket, which was raised to kill me, took fire and shot my horse

dead on the spot. Seeing my horse drop, Gwinn dismounted,
and led his horse up to me in a moment.

Happily for us both, captain Snipes heard the report of our pieces,
and thinking that we might be in danger, dashed on to our aid,

with several of my troops whooping and huzzaing as they came on.
The tory party then fired at us, but without effect, and fled

leaving four of Marion's men, whom they had just taken,
and beaten very barbarously with the butts of their muskets.

This was a fatal day to the tories, who must have lost
more than half their number. For I had with me not only Macdonald and Snipes,

but several other very strong and brave men, whose families had suffered
very severely, by British and tory cruelty; and, I am afraid,

they did not forget this, when their swords were hanging
over the heads of the fugitives. At any rate, they took but few prisoners.

In the course of this day's fighting, there happened an affair
which served to amuse us not a little on our return to our camp that night.

The tories, who, from time to time had fallen into our hands,
were often easing their vexation, by saying, that it was true,

"Marion had proved too cunning for colonel Tynes and captain Barfield,
and other British and loyal officers, whom he had attacked;

but that there was still one left behind, who, they were sure,
if he could come forward, would soon show us quite a different sort of play;

and that was colonel Gainey, from the head waters of Pedee."
We answered, that it was all very well; and that we should be glad

to see colonel Gainey. Now, as God was pleased to have it, who should it be,
that with one-third of his number, we had been chasing so to-day,

but colonel Gainey; a stout officer-looking fellow he was too,
and most nobly mounted. Macdonald made a dash at him,

in full confidence of getting a gallantcharger. But the good book tells us,
that "the race is not always to the swift;" and owing partly

to the fleetness of his horse, and partly to a most extraordinary
sort of accident, colonel Gainey made his escape from our Scotsman.

The chase was towards Georgetown, distant little more than two miles.
Never on earth did two horses or horsemen make greater exertions.

Fear impelling the one, fury urging the other. Macdonald declared,
that in the chase he had passed several tories whom he could easily

have cut down, but like the lion in pursuit of a favorite buffalo,
he took no notice of them. His eye was fixed on colonel Gainey.

Just as they turned Richmond corner, Selim had brought his master
near enough to his prey to make a stroke at him with his bayonet.

By a sudden jerk, it is supposed, the weapon turned; so that when Macdonald
drew back the carbine, he left the bayonet up to the hilt in his back.

In this way colonel Gainey rode into town, prodigiously to his own
and the mortification of his friends the British and tories.

Chapter 17.
Spirit of the tories -- assassination of lieutenant Marion --

the murderer murdered -- Marion's reflections on the death of his nephew --
his manner of rewarding extraordinary courage among his men --

sketch of the brave boy Gwinn.
"If mortal hands thy peace destroy,

Or friendship's gifts bestow,
Wilt thou to man ascribe the joy --

To man impute the woe?
'Tis GOD, whose thoughts for wisest ends

The human lots dispose;
Around thee plants assisting friends,

Or heaps chastising foes.
Not from the BOW the deaths proceed,

But from the ARCHER'S skill,
He lends the winged shaft its speed

And gives it power to kill."
And here I must relate a tragical affair that befell us that day,

and which filled us all with grief, because of our beloved general.
I mean the barbarous murder of his nephew. Of all men who ever

drew the sword, Marion was one of the most humane. He not only prevented
all cruelty, in his own presence, but strictlyforbade it in his absence.

I have known him to talk for a quarter of an hour together,
with one of his men, for striking over the head, a horse that had started,

and to punish another for taking away from a negro, his ragged chicken.
To reason then like men, one would suppose that he was the last person

on whom such a cruel blow as the murder of a favorite nephew
should have fallen. But thanks to God, for that most comfortable doctrine,

that not even a sparrow can die until his death-warrant has been signed
in heaven; and, since this young man DID die at that time,

there can be no doubt but that was the RIGHT time.
The manner of his death was this. We have told the reader,

that, in the course of this day's fighting, we retook from the tories
four of Marion's Men, whom they had very barbarously beaten

with the butts of their guns. On being asked how they came to fall
into such bad company, they said, that immediately after sending me off,

in the morning, Marion got information that a party of tories
were encamped not far distant, on a plantation of colonel Alston's,