Noon
Slowly rolled the bright hours of that calm and beautiful morning away , as Miss Haviland , with her attendant , sat by the window , often and anxiously glancing along the road to the east , to catch a glimpse of that army , in whose movements all her hopes were centred , making its expected advance . But it came not . No American -- not even a scout or skirmisher -- any where made his appearance ; and no signs of a battle were visible in any quarter , unless they might be gathered from the busy labors of the British troops in putting their arms in order , or the unusual stillness and the air of anxious suspense that seemed to pervade their whole encampment . Noon came ; and still all remained quiet as before . That hour , and the next , also , passed away with the same ominous stillness ; and the desponding girl began seriously to fear , that the Americans had indeed retreated from the vicinity , and left her and the country alike at the mercy of the foe . But just as this depressing thought was taking possession of her mind , a sound reached her ears from afar , that caused her suddenly to start to her feet with a look of joy and animation that , for weeks , had been a stranger to her countenance . `` Death to him who forges Fetters , fetters for the free ! ''