limbs of the trees, which fell with a tremendous crash, demolishing the underbrush, and so frightened the young men that they fled for their lives.

A number of officers came ashore on the Fishkill side. Among the number was a subaltern, who took a stroll up the hill to near where the store of J. E. Member is now located, and casting his eye over the valley of the Fishkill, viewed the majestic Highlands, whose tops seemed reared to the clouds. The subaltern seated himself on a post-rail fence, which was then a favorite fence with the Dutch, which consisted of posts set in the ground, with holes made and posts inserted with a post-axe, when the rails were placed in and securely fastened. There sitting he fell into a deep revery, and while musing he was unconscious of aught that was passing around him, and time passed by unheeded, when suddenly he bethought himself, and looking toward the river saw that the fleet had disappeared from view. He hastened with all his speed to the river's brink, in hopes of seeing the fleet near enough to signal them, but the vessels were fast disappearing in the Highlands, and probably they had not yet discovered that he was left behind; and sailing under favorable wind it was impossible for him to expect to reach the fleet on foot. The first idea that presented itself to his mind was to take a horse from the pasture fields and mount him, and by putting him to the top of his speed, try to overtake the fleet, but that would be a hazardous undertaking, for he might be taken as a spy, and then his life would have to pay the forfeit. He next thought of disguising himself and trying to reach New York through the interior, but to

pass the lines without detection would be almost impossible, and if taken prisoner his chance of life would not be as favorable as to surrender himself, and frankly state the truth. He walked slowly to the top of the hill where the village of Fishkill Landing is now located, but how different the scene appeared. Nothing greeted his eye but extensive fields, and now and then an isolated farm house. The main highway leading to Matteawan did not exist then, and where that busy street is now, was nothing but wild, uncultivated fields, covered mostly with forest. The subaltern left the highway and commenced slowly walking across the fields toward Matteawan, but the scenery which recently he had so much admired, had lost all attraction for him. His mind reverted to his native land, and the home of his childhood. The tender ties of a mother and sisters came rushing through his mind; how they wept when he enlisted to fight at the call of his country, and how their hearts would wring with anguish if they should hear that he was taken prisoner, and probably end his life on the gallows. Overcome by such thoughts the subaltern burst into tears.

Looking around he descried the Depeyster mansion. The day was drawing to a close, and no human being was in sight. The atmosphere was becoming chilly, and it reminded him of the necessity of obtaining lodging. He thought first of passing the night in an outhouse, but he at length concluded to try and gain admission to some house, not knowing what reception he would receive. He knew that it would be impossible for him to escape being taken prisoner in the heart of an enemy's country, unless he could exchange his

military suit for a citizen's dress, and even if he could his chance then would be very precarious, and after reflection he concluded to try and find shelter for the night in some dwelling. He timidly approached the Depeyster mansion and gently knocked.

Depeyster had been much alarmed through the day on account of the British fleet stopping opposite Fishkill Landing, for he had a large supply of grain in his mill, and he was fearful they might seize the mill and take the contents, and he kept close watch through the day, and when the subaltern knocked for admission he was alarmed, for he had not heard that the fleet had left. He was revolving in his mind whether to obey the summons or not, but he finally concluded to go to the door and see who was there. Katrina remonstrated, for she was fearful something serious might occur. She supposed that the British fleet yet lay in Newburgh bay, and that some officers might make demands on her father, which, if not acceded to, their house might be sacked, their mill broken into, or something more dreadful happen. But Depeyster told Pompey to fetch him the gun from the armory, which was done immediately, and Katrina holding a light, for it was now dark, they cautiously approached the hall door and inquired who was there and their busiThe subaltern replied that a friend in misfortune wished to obtain a night's lodging. Depeyster opened the door, and a richly dressed British officer stood before them. The subaltern introduced himself by saying that he belonged to the British fleet that had recently sailed up the river, and on returning the fleet had anchored off Newburgh bay, and several officers,

ness.

with himself, came ashore, and he admiring the scenery of the Highlands had strayed from his companions, and falling in a revery had remained some time in deep thought, thinking of the future of this country, and that the colonies would eventually become free and independent, when suddenly recollecting himself, he looked on the river and not a sail was in sight. Retracing his steps with all haste to the river, he said he saw the last vessel disappearing in the Highlands, and he had probably not yet been missed by his companions. What course to pursue he did not know; he first thought of trying to make his escape, but upon reflection he concluded to abandon the idea, supposing that he would be taken for a spy, and then there would be but little hope of saving his life, and as night was close at hand, and the weather somewhat cold, he thought to try and gain admittance at some house, hoping some one would be kind enough to receive him.

Depeyster and Katrina listened very attentively to the young officer, and they could not help but admire the dignity that he possessed, as he was uniformed in the style becoming his rank. Depeyster politely invited him to remain for the night. The subaltern, after thanking him for his kindness, was ushered into a large parlor, Katrina leading the way. Depeyster informed him at once that he must secure his side arms and search his person, which the subaltern readily consented to, for Depeyster suspected some plot was being concocted by the enemy, and it was necessary for him to be very cautious as to who he received into his house.

The subaltern surrendered his side arms to Depeyster, and after a thorough search he discovered nothing that led him to believe but that he had given a true account of himself. Depeyster informed him that Gen. Washington, with a large army, was encamped at the village of Fishkill, a few miles east, and was awaiting the movements of the British fleet; and expecting that it would land somewhere near the Highlands, he had posted his army at Fishkill Village, in order to give them battle, and at the same time telling the subaltern that he must be taken to Fishkill on the following morning, and handed over to General Washington, and if he had given a true account of himself, he might be dismissed on parole or be remanded to prison until an exchange of prisoners, and he apprehended no danger of losing his life. The subaltern said nothing, but drew his chair close to the fire to warm himself, for he had been exposed to the cold. When he reflected on his situation, he covered his face with his hands, and commenced weeping. He was only twenty-three years of age, and was related to some of the first families in England, and occupying a position in the British army, his appearance commanded respect. As he sat there thinking of his dear mother and sisters at home, that they might never see him again, his whole form convulsed with agony. He could exclaim with Jonah of old, "Oh Lord, take, I beseech thee, my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live." His appearance touched the heart of Katrina, and every cord there seemed to vibrate as she looked at the sorrow stricken officer, his hair falling in disheveled locks over his face, sparkling like gold from the light of the