Our host having resumed the chair , he as well as Mr. Tiffany and myself expressed much eagerness to be made acquainted with the story to which the loyalist had alluded . That venerable man first of all saw lit to moisten his throat with another glass of wine , and then , turning his face toward our coal-fire , looked steadfastly for a few moments into the depths of its cheerful glow . Finally he poured forth a great fluency of speech . The generous liquid that he had imbibed , while it warmed his age-chilled blood , likewise took off the chill from his heart and mind , and gave him an energy to think and feel which we could hardly have expected to find beneath the snows of fourscore winters . His feelings , indeed , appeared to me more excitable than those of a younger man -- or , at least , the same degree of feeling manifested itself by more visible effects than if his judgment and will had possessed the potency of meridian life . At the pathetic passages of his narrative he readily melted into tears . When a breath of indignation swept across his spirit , the blood flushed his withered visage even to the roots of his white hair , and he shook his clinched fist at the trio of peaceful auditors , seeming to fancy enemies in those who felt very kindly toward the desolate old soul . But ever and anon , sometimes in the midst of his most earnest talk , this ancient person 's intellect would wander vaguely , losing its hold of the matter in hand and groping for it amid misty shadows . Then would he cackle forth a feeble laugh and express a doubt whether his wits -- for by that phrase it pleased our ancient friend to signify his mental powers -- were not getting a little the worse for wear . Under these disadvantages , the old loyalist 's story required more revision to render it fit for the public eye than those of the series which have preceded it ; nor should it be concealed that the sentiment and tone of the affair may have undergone some slight -- or perchance more than slight -- metamorphosis in its transmission to the reader through the medium of a thoroughgoing democrat . The tale itself is a mere sketch with no involution of plot nor any great interest of events , yet possessing , if I have rehearsed it aright , that pensive influence over the mind which the shadow of the old Province House flings upon the loiterer in its court-yard . * * * * * The hour had come -- the hour of defeat and humiliation -- when Sir William Howe was to pass over the threshold of the province-house and embark , with no such triumphal ceremonies as he once promised himself , on board the British fleet . He bade his servants and military attendants go before him , and lingered a moment in the loneliness of the mansion to quell the fierce emotions that struggled in his bosom as with a death-throb . Preferable then would he have deemed his fate had a warrior 's death left him a claim to the narrow territory of a grave within the soil which the king had given him to defend . With an ominous perception that as his departing footsteps echoed adown the staircase the sway of Britain was passing for ever from New England , he smote his clenched hand on his brow and cursed the destiny that had flung the shame of a dismembered empire upon him . `` Would to God , '' cried he , hardly repressing his tears of rage , `` that the rebels were even now at the doorstep ! A blood-stain upon the floor should then bear testimony that the last British ruler was faithful to his trust . '' The tremulous voice of a woman replied to his exclamation . `` Heaven 's cause and the king 's are one , '' it said . `` Go forth , Sir William Howe , and trust in Heaven to bring back a royal governor in triumph . ''
Subduing at once the passion to which he had yielded only in the faith that it was unwitnessed , Sir William Howe became conscious that an aged woman leaning XXXXX a gold-headed staff was standing betwixt him and the door .
With amid at in on than that to upon whether