General Washington, riding towards headquarters, is overtaken by a severe snowstorm and forced to seek shelter at a wayside tavern. Shortly before his arrival, a party of British soldiers had visited the tavern and posted a placard offering a bountiful reward for the capture of Washington, dead or alive. Upon his entrance, he is recognized by the description and a plot is arranged to assassinate him. It falls to the lot of the tavern keeper to do the deed. His daughter, a staunch and loyal patriot, overhears their conversation and determines to save Washington’s life. Through a ruse, she causes him to change his room and herself takes possession of the one he vacates, and after a silent prayer, she retires. At midnight, the plotters urge the tavern keeper to begin the murderous assault, and climbing the stairs, he enters the room occupied by his daughter, and after a moment that is like an eternity, he leaves the room, trembling, penitent, afraid to think, fearful of memories. He sits brooding by the fireplace all night. Remorse, remorse, it tugs at his heart strings. It points an accusing finger at him. He suffers on until weary and exhausted, he falls asleep. At daybreak, Washington descends the stairs and arouses the sleeper, who imagines Washington a spirit. The most terrible punishment of murder is the memory of it. Washington departs and the tavern keeper begins to believe the happenings of the night were but a weird dream, but a glance at the knife upon the floor, covered with blood, convinces him of the realism of the events, convinces him, and arouses within him a feeling of horror. At this moment, his daughter, clinging to the banisters, staggers down the stairs, totters and falls dying in her father’s arms. A glance at her breast discloses a red stain and he realizes he has unwittingly killed his own child. This little heroine sacrificed her life at the shrine of liberty and as such her memory is hallowed.