104 THE BOROUGH OF THE BRONX 



inn was the meeting place for the revolutionary hot-heads, he de- 

 cided that he couldn't gauge the sentiments of the people better 

 than at the old inn. 



He was young, handsome, learned; and, before he had been 

 at the "King's Arms" very long, he had captivated Bessie's heart, 

 and in their rambles thru the lanes of Westchester, he poured 

 into her innocent heart the witcheries of romance and poetry. 

 So sentimental were his words and so gallant his actions, that 

 Bessie looked up to her youthful admirer as a being of a superior 

 order; and, before she was aware of it, she had blushingly con- 

 sented to become his wife. On the very day he -had asked for 

 Bessie's hand, came the discovery that he was a British spy. They 

 found him in the garret with his ear to a crack in the floor listen- 

 ing to the fiery speeches of the Patriots' Club in the room below. 



It was a wild night — outside the inn the great elms tossed 

 their branches about like giants in agony. The signboard groaned 

 as it swung before the gate. The fury of the storm kept the 

 happy Bessie awake long after she had said "Good night," and 

 retired. It seemed to her that she heard a shot — another, and 

 another. The wind lulled for a second ; and, as she listened, in 

 the sullen silence there was an awful cry. Then the storm swept 

 down again and she told herself that it was nothing but a loose 

 shutter; but her nervous fear worked on her imagination until 

 she believed a tragedy had occurred. 



They told Bessie the next morning that her lover was a spy 

 and that he had fled like a thief in the night with the dread of 

 discovery. 



The blow came like a thunderclap from a clear sky to Bessie. 

 It was not long after this that a great shadow darkened her life. 

 None knew whether she suspected the truth about the disappear- 

 ance of her handsome lover, but many of the country-folk round 

 about declared that they had seen a ghastly figure wandering 

 nightly over the hillsides, always looking for something it never 

 found. 



Like a beautiful lily cut down, Bessie began visibly to pine 

 away. Everything possible was done to divert her thoughts and 

 bring the color back to her pallid cheeks — but all in vain. Some- 

 thing had gone out of her life that could not be replaced. Then 

 one day old Simon found his daughter sitting at the window of 

 her room apparently gazing earnestly out at something. He called 



