The lieutenant rode off in the direction of the barn, ordering most of the men to follow him. Wagons were then seen coming down the lane, and going toward the barn to cart off the Colonel's corn and wheat. The sympathies of those who were left behind were plainly with the Colonel. Especially was this so with a tall, lanky, grizzled sergeant, who had been the first man to put out the fire.
"I am much obliged to you, my good man," said Colonel Corbin, loftily, "for your efforts in extinguishing the flames started by that person, who appears to be in command."
"You're welcome," answered the lanky sergeant, with the easy familiarity of the rural New-Englander.
The lieutenant had showed unmistakably the bullying resentment of a peasant brought face to face with a gentleman, but the lanky sergeant indirectly felt some subtile sympathy with a spirit as independent as his own.
"I am glad, brother," said Miss Jemima, "that these men who are left to guard us are plainly Americans. They will be more humane than foreigners."
"Vastly more so," answered the Colonel, calmly watching the loading of his crops upon
