The Argosy, Vol. XXIV, No. 1 — page 145: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

t TTHE GENERAL’S EMISSARY. 145 attempt to brave such a storm, and to this I adduced the fact that I was chilled to the bone. The door opened into a capacious hall, at the opposite end of which was an immense fireplace. An elderly, gentlemanly appearing man and a young woman were sitting near the hearth. The woman was evidently preparing something to eat. They both rose at our entrance and looked at us in a half frightened, half suspicious, questioning way. We bowed, and on inquiry were informed that ‘‘ old Brady,’’ as the host was called, was somewhere about the premises, and that his wife was lying very ill in an adjoining room. ‘The old gentleman said that he and his daughter had arrived some time ago and had found it necessary to stop on account of the storm, and were obliged to prepare their own refreshment. We were not of the Southern party—meaning the British? No. He thought not, glancing at Wilson’s uniform. Well, he and his daughter were traveling from White Plains to Albany, and expected to take a boat from Peekskill the next day. His name was Reuben Everard, and this was his daughter Ruth. What were our names? . While this informal method of introduction had been progressing, I was busily eyeing the girl who was watching her father. She appeared to be about nineteen or twenty years of age. Her rather slender form gave her the appearance of being taller than she really was. Her face was a trifle pale, probably from the fatigue of the journey. Her rich brown hair was arranged in a loose knot at the crown of the head and hung in flowing curls to her shoulders. Her eyes were of a sort that are rarely seen—a deep brown, out from which seemed to shine an inherent sweetness of soul. These, with a daintily curving mouth, formed what seemed to me one of the sweetest faces I had ever seen. The old gentleman ‘proved to be very genial and urged us to partake of the luncheon which his daughter had prepared. Miss Everard insisted on our taking off our coats and drying them by the fire. é It is not necessary to record any of the conversation and incidents which occurred during my call at the tavern, but it is sufficient to say that I passed an unusually pleasant hour, and Miss Everard’s frank and genial manner almost wholly absorbed my attention. But I did not entirely forget myself, for I remember going to, the door once or twice to view the state of the weather, and finally, when there came a lull in the violence of the storm, I leisurely prepared to continue my journey. I was loth to leave, but I am aman of honor and knew my duty. I waved an adieu to the old gentleman and his daughter, but Miss Everard was fumbling nervously among her wraps and to my disappointment did not look up. | Wilson followed me to the door with many good wishes and gave me his hand. Not being thoroughly familiar with the ground I was traveling J in- quired of him which road led to the mouth of the Croton. He thought for a moment and said, ‘‘ Take the one to the right.”’ | For all the rain had abated, there was a severe gale blowing from the northeast, and the road was in places sheathed several inches deep with mud. (J) Conmmiclooolks 5}