XXX.

HORSESHOE ROBINSON'S RUSE.

A STORY OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.

BY JOHN P. KENNEDY.'

On the morning that succeeded the night in which Horseshoe Robinson' arrived at Musgrove's, the stout and honest sergeant' might have been seen, about eight o'clock, leaving the main road from Ninety Six' at the point where that leading to David Ramsay's separated from it, and cautiously urging his way into the deep forest by the more private path into which he had entered. The knowledge that Innis was encamped along the Ennoree,' within a short distance of the mill, had compelled him to make an extensive circuit to reach Ram-10 say's dwelling, whither he was now bent; and he had experienced considerable delay in his morning journey, by finding himself frequently in the neighborhood of small foraging parties of Tories," whose motions he was obliged to watch for fear of an encounter. He had " once already been compelled to use his horse's heels in what he called "fair flight," and once to ensconce' himself a full half-hour under cover of the thicket afforded him by a swamp. He now, therefore, according to his own phrase, "dived into the little road that scrambled" down through the woods towards Ramsay's, with all his eyes about him, looking out as sharply as a fox on a foggy morning," and, with this circumspection, he was not long in arriving within view of Ramsay's house. Like a practiced soldier, whom frequent frays have

taught wisdom, he resolved to reconnoiter before he advanced upon a post that might be in possession of an enemy. He therefore dismounted, fastened his horse in a fence corner, where a field of corn concealed him from notice, and then stealthily crept forward until he 5 came immediately behind one of the outhouses.

The barking of a house dog brought out a negro boy, to whom Robinson instantly addressed the query : "Is your master at home?"

"No, sir. He's got his horse, and gone off more than 10 an hour ago."

"I didn't ask you," said the sergeant, "what she is doing, but where she is."

"In course, she is in the house, sir," replied the negro, with a grin.

"Any strangers there?”

"There was plenty of 'em a little while ago, but they've been gone a good while."

Robinson, having thus satisfied himself as to the safety of his visit, directed the boy to take his horse and lead him up to the door. He then entered the dwelling.

15

20

"Mrs. Ramsay," said he, walking up to the dame, who was occupied at a table, with a large trencher before 25 her, in which she was plying that household thrift which the negro described, "luck to you, ma'am, and all your house!"

"Good lack, Mr. Horseshoe Robinson!" exclaimed the matron, offering the sergeant her hand. "What has 30 brought you here? What news? Who are with you?"

"I am alone," said Robinson, as he took off his hat and shook the water from it; "it has just begun to rain, and it looks as if it was going to give us enough of it.

You don't mind doing a little dinner-work of a Sunday, I see shelling of beans, I suppose, is tantamount' to dragging a sheep out of a pond, as the preachers allow on the Sabbath-ha, ha! Where's Davy!”

"He's gone over to the meetinghouse on Ennoree, 5 hoping to hear something of the army at Camden." Perhaps you can tell us the news from that quarter?"

"Faith, that's a mistake, Mrs. Ramsay. Though at this present speaking I command the flying artillery. We have but one man in the corps-and that's myself;:: and all the guns we have is this piece of ordnance that hangs in this old belt by my side" (pointing to his sword), "and that I captured from the enemy at Blackstock's. I was hoping I might find John Ramsay at home: I have need of him as a recruit."

15

"Ah, Mr. Robinson, John has a heavy life of it over there with Sumter." We thought that he might have been here to-day; yet I am glad he didn't come, for he would have been certain to get into trouble. Who should come in this morning, just after my husband had 20 cleverly got away on his horse, but a young ensign that belongs to Ninety Six, and four great Scotchmen with him, all in red coats; they had been out thieving, I warrant, and were now going home again. And who but they! Here they were, swaggering all about my house, 25 and calling for this and calling for that, as if they owned the fee simple of everything on the plantation. And it made my blood rise, Mr. Horseshoe, to see them run out in the yard and catch up my chickens and ducks and kill as many as they could string about them, and I30 not daring to say a word: though I did give them a piece of my mind, too."

"Who is at home with you?" inquired the sergeant. "Nobody but my youngest boy, Andrew," answered

the dame. "And then the toping rioters," she continued, exalting her voice.

"What arms have you in the house?" asked Robinson, without heeding the dame's rising anger.

“We have a rifle, and a horseman's pistol that belongs to John. They must call for drink, too, and turn my house, of a Sunday morning, into a tavern

They took the route towards Ninety Six, you said, Mrs. Ramsay?"

"Yos, they went straight forward upon the road. But, 10 look you, Mr. Horseshoe, you're not thinking of going after them?"

"Isn't there an old field, about a mile from this, on that road?" inquired the sergeant, still intent upon his own thoughts.

"There is," replied the dame, "with the old schoolhouse upon it."

"A lopsided, rickety log cabin in the middle of the field. Am I right, good woman?”

"Yes."

5

15

20

"And nobody lives in it? It has no door to it?" "There ha'n't been anybody in it these seven years." "I know the place very well," said the sergeant, thoughtfully; "there is woods just on this side of it." "That's true,” replied the dame. "But what is it 25 you are thinking about, Mr. Robinson ?"

"How long before this rain began was it that they quitted this house?"

"Not above fifteen minutes."

"Mrs. Ramsay, bring me the rifle and pistol, both— and the powderhorn and bullets."

"As you say, Mr. Horseshoe," answered the dame, as she turned round to leave the room; "but I am sure I can't suspicion what you mean to do.”

31

In a few moments the woman returned with the weapons, and gave them to the sergeant.

"Where is Andy?" asked Horseshoe.

The hostess went to the door and called her son; and almost immediately afterwards a sturdy boy, of about twelve or fourteen years of age, entered the apartment, his clothes dripping with rain. He modestly and shyly seated himself on a chair near the door, with his soaked hat flapping down over a face full of freckles, and not less rife with the expression of an open, dauntless hardi-10 hood of character.

"How would you like a scrummage," Andy, with them Scotchmen that stole your mother's chickens this morning?" asked Horseshoe.

"I'm agreed," replied the boy, "if you will tell me 15 what to do."

"You are not going to take the boy out on any of your desperate projects, Mr. Horseshoe?" said the mother, with the tears starting instantly into her wouldn't take such a child as that into danger?"

eyes.

"You

"Bless your soul, Mrs. Ramsay, there isn't any danger about it! It's a thing that is either done at a blow, or not done; and there's an end of it. I want the lad only to bring home the prisoners for me, after I have taken them."

'Ah, Mr. Robinson, I have one son already in these wars-God protect him—and you men don't know how a mother's heart yearns for her children in these times. I cannot give another," she added, as she threw her arms over the shoulders of the youth and drew him to her bosom.

tone.

"Oh, it isn't anything," said Andrew, in a sprightly "It's only snapping of a pistol, mother. Pooh! If I'm not afraid, you oughtn't to be."

5

20

25