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have witnessed the sudden capture of the truculent British sergeant, by the brother of the damsel whom he had destined for his prey. Aided by his new recruits, Humphries brought his prisoner to the camp with little difficulty. The worthy sergeant, it is true, did at first offer resistance; he mouthed and struggled, as the bandages compressed his mouth, and the ligatures restrained his arms; but the timely application of hand and foot, which his captors did not hesitate to employ to compel obedience, not to speak of the threatening aspect of the dagger—which the much roused lieutenant held more than once to his throat—brought him to reason, and counselled that wholesome resignation to circumstances, which, though not always easy and pleasant of adoption, is, at least, on most occasions, well becoming in him who has no alternatives. He was, therefore, soon mounted on horseback, along with one of the troopers, and in a state of most commendable quietness, he reached, after an hour's quick riding, the encampment at Bacon's Bridge. There, well secured with a stout rope, and watched by the guard assigned for the other prisoners, close in the thick and knotty wood which girded the swamp, we will at present leave him.

Singleton had well concealed his little squadron in the same shelter. Like a true partisan, he had omitted no precautions. His scouts—men that he could trust—were out in all directions, and his sentries watched both sides of the river. The position which he had chosen was one established by General Moultrie in the previous season. It had been vacated when that brave old warrior was called to league his troops with those of Lincoln, in defence of the