these matters in her mind, and when her face suddenly brightened, he gravely kissed her tiny hand with as much ceremony as if she, the daughter of a silversmith, had been a queen.
"You are to stay till father comes home, sir. I am certain he would not do anything to your harm, and if he thinks you ought not remain, then will be time enough for you to go."
"You are a brave and a kind little lady, and if it so be that I live to see my darlings once more, they shall know that a certain tiny maid in America saved, for however short a time it may be, the life of their father. And now Mistress Dean, since I am the invited guest of you and your sister, will it please you that I extinguish the candle?"
"This is not my sister, sir," and the girl took her companion by the hand. "This is Sarah Lamb, whose father keeps a shop on Old Slip, and I am Dorothy Dean."
"I am in a nest of patriots without mistake," Lieutenant Oakman muttered to himself, most likely speculating as to whether those Sons of Liberty who claimed these children as daughters, would be as willing to extend hospitality to a British spy. Then in a louder tone he added, "I presume it is Anthony Lamb of whom you speak?"
"Yes, sir," Sarah replied, taking part in the
