York come down and take Cornwallis out by sea? They can, if they will realize the value of time.

Washington slips away from Clinton? Yes; but what hinders Clinton from boarding ships, spreading canvas, and hastening to the Chesapeake?

Days pass, weeks pass, eager eyes scan the waters. Washington's fate depends upon France and her ships. Cornwallis's fate depends upon Clinton and his ships. Which will come first? Out of the depths of the sea who will come, British or French? Local tradition says that when at length the masts of the war fleet were seen from the shore, no one could distinguish the flags, no one knew for certain what ships they were. Cornwallis hoped that they were English; Washington that they were French. It is life or death. Whose are the ships?

Tradition tells you that transports put out from the shore, and made toward the distant fleet, closer and closer, to distinguish the colors.

Few chapters in American history are more dramatic than this-the waiting and watching of the two armies, the anxious eyes which day by day swept the bay, looking for the expected ships; the appearance of the fleet on the far horizon, the dreadful doubt as to what ships they were, the going out of the transports, the waiting for their return, and then the sinking of hearts in the one camp and the bursting forth of joy in the other when the transports returned and the word was shouted from

lip to lip: "The French! The French! Thank God, the French!"

We all know the rest of the story. British ships afterward come, but are beaten off. The lines tighten about the doomed army. There is bombarding and musketry, attack and counter-attack; but the American lines never go backward. Finally, the storming parties draw out, and the clinch, the tug of the war, comes. We see the French doing their level best to outstrip the Americans in the dash at the British works. We see the first man mount the parapet. It is Alexander Hamilton. We see the first man enter the works, and receive the sword of the first British officer who surrenders. It is John Laurens. Others do as well-Rochambeau, Lafayette, Lauzun-and at length the Commander-in-Chief can say, "The work is done, and well done!"

CHAPTER XXI

THE SOUTH IN THE WAR

DURING the siege of Yorktown, Washington had wished to spare the fine old family mansion of Governor Thomas Nelson, but that fiery patriot would not accept such discrimination. The British officers had taken up their quarters in the house, it being the best in Yorktown; and Governor Page himself had the guns of the American battery trained on the family home, offering a reward of five guineas to the first gunner who should strike it. The Nelsons had been among the original settlers of Yorktown, and so far as its upbuilding is concerned may be called its founders. The Marquis of Chastellux, who was entertained there during his travels, describes the elegance and luxury of the Nelson home, and paints an attractive picture of the Southern high life of that period.

It was Thomas Nelson who succeeded Mr. Jefferson as Governor of Virginia; and the place proved as burdensome to the one as it had done to the other. Nelson's patriotism was like that of John Page and so many others-it counted no cost. Like Page, he was one of the wealthiest of men at