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diff --git a/41050-8.txt b/41050-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e5f54e7..0000000 --- a/41050-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9886 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of In Hostile Red, by Joseph Altsheler - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: In Hostile Red - -Author: Joseph Altsheler - -Release Date: October 14, 2012 [EBook #41050] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN HOSTILE RED *** - - - - -Produced by D Alexander, Josephine Paolucci and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - -_In Hostile Red_ - - - - -CROWNED MASTERPIECES OF MODERN FICTION - -_SPECIAL SUBSCRIPTION EDITION_ - -In Hostile Red - -BY - -J. A. Altsheler - -Author of "In Circling Camps," "The Sun of Saratoga," "Before the Dawn," -Etc. - -_NEW YORK_ DOUBLEDAY -PAGE & COMPANY 1904 - - -_Copyright, 1897, by_ J. B. LIPPINCOTT CO -_Copyright, 1900, by_ DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO - - - - -_Prefatory Note_ - - -_The author published three years ago, in Lippincott's Magazine, a short -romance, called "A Knight of Philadelphia," which forms the basis of the -present story._ - - - - -_Contents_ - - -CHAPTER PAGE - -I. IN HOSTILE RED 11 - -II. FEELING THE WAY 27 - -III. SIR WILLIAM'S REVEL 42 - -IV. ON A NEW SERVICE 59 - -V. THE WORK OF WILDFOOT 73 - -VI. A COUSIN FROM ENGLAND 82 - -VII. THE QUARREL 94 - -VIII. A FILE OF PRISONERS 101 - -IX. WITH THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 115 - -X. THE FINE FINISH OF A PLAY 123 - -XI. A MAN HUNT 134 - -XII. A DELICATE SEARCH 142 - -XIII. HESSIAN WRATH 153 - -XIV. ACCORDING TO PROMISE 166 - -XV. THE PURSUIT OF WILDFOOT 179 - -XVI. A REBUKE FOR WATERS 187 - -XVII. GREAT NEWS 191 - -XVIII. THE SILENT SENTINEL 202 - -XIX. A RIDE FOR THE CAUSE 219 - -XX. THE NIGHT COMBAT 232 - -XXI. KEEPING UP APPEARANCES 245 - -XXII. A FULL CONFESSION 254 - -XXIII. GEORGE WASHINGTON'S MERCY 261 - -XXIV. IN THE CITY AGAIN 274 - -XXV. THE WIDOW'S MIGHT 281 - -XXVI. AN AVERAGE NIGHT WITH WILDFOOT 299 - -XXVII. PURE GOLD 307 - -XXVIII. AT THE COUNCIL FIRE 313 - -XXIX. UNDER THE APPLE-TREES 318 - -XXX. THE DEFENCE OF THE GUN 321 - -XXXI. A BATTLE AND AN ANSWERED QUESTION 334 - - - - -_In Hostile Red_ - - - - -CHAPTER ONE--_In Hostile Red_ - - -"Captain the Honorable Charles Montague, eldest son and heir to Lord -George Montague, of Bridgewater Hall, Yorkshire, England," said Marcel, -reading the letters, "and Lieutenant Arthur Melville, son to Sir -Frederick William Melville, of Newton-on-the-Hill, Staffordshire, -England. Those names sound well, don't they, eh, Chester? They roll like -the Delaware." - -I could not restrain a smile at the prim and choppy way in which Marcel -pronounced the names and titles, just as if he were calling the roll of -our company. Nevertheless, I wished to hide it, feeling some sympathy -for the two young Englishmen because of the grievous state into which -they had fallen. As they stood a bit apart from us, they preserved the -seeming of dignity, but in truth it was apparent that beneath this cloak -they were sore troubled in mind; and well they had a right to be. It was -a hard fate to come all the way across the ocean with letters of high -recommendation to one's commander-in-chief, only to fall into the hands -of the enemy, letters and all, with the place of destination almost in -sight. - -"They should have stood very high in the graces of Sir William Howe had -they reached Philadelphia," said Marcel, "for here are letters from some -of the greatest men in England, descanting upon their military merits. -Perhaps, Chester, we have saved the Thirteen Colonies with this little -achievement, you and I. Because, if everything in these letters be -true--and it is not for me to criticise the veracity of the -writers,--one of our prisoners must be an Alexander at the very least, -and the other a Hannibal." - -Marcel had a sprightly humor, and one could never tell how it was going -to show itself. But he was not given to malice, and he spoke the latter -words in a tone that the Englishmen could not hear. - -"Chester," he resumed, drawing me a little farther to one side, "these -young gentlemen, barring their mischance of falling into our hands, seem -to be veritable pets of fortune. They are rich, of high station, and -they come to join a powerful army which has all the resources of war at -its command. And look at their raiment, Chester; look at their raiment, -I say!" - -In good truth, they were apparelled in most comfortable and seemly -fashion. There is always a brave dash of color and adornment about the -uniform of the British officer, and our prisoners had omitted nothing. - -"Now look at our own attire," said Marcel, in tones of the utmost -melancholy. - -Of a verity, there was cause for his melancholy; the contrast was most -piteous. Time and hard wear had played sad tricks with our regimentals, -and, what was worse, we knew not when or how we were to replace them. - -"I see not why we should grieve over it," I said. "The matter cannot be -helped, and we must make the best of it we can." - -"Perhaps," replied Marcel, fingering the letters meditatively. Then he -turned and said with much politeness to Captain Montague,-- - -"I believe you stated that you and your friend are complete strangers to -Sir William and his army?" - -"Yes," replied Captain Montague; "we have no acquaintance with them at -all, and we fear that the unlucky capture of us you have effected will -prevent us from making any very soon." - -"It was mere chance, and no fault of yours, that threw you into our -hands," said Marcel, very courteously; "and it may save you from being -killed on the battle-field, which fate I would take to be somewhat -unpleasant." - -Then he drew me aside again. - -"Chester," he said, assuming his most weighty manner, "sit down on this -tree-trunk. I wish to hold converse with you for a moment or two." - -I occupied the designated seat and waited for him to speak, knowing that -he would take his own good time about it. - -"Chester," he said, the solemnity of his tone unchanged, "you know what -I am." - -"Yes," I replied; "by descent three parts French and one part Irish, by -birth South Carolinian; therefore wholly irresponsible." - -"Quite true," he replied; "and you are by descent three parts English -and one part Scotch, and by birth Pennsylvanian; therefore if you were -to die the world would come to an end. Now, Bob Chester, still your -Quakerish soul and listen. Behold those officers! Their brave clothes -and well-rounded figures, which indicate a fine and abundant diet, -arouse much envy in my soul, and because of it I have taken a -resolution. Now having listened, look!" - -He rose and bowed low. - -"Lieutenant Melville," he said, addressing himself to me, "pardon this -somewhat formal and abrupt introduction, but I have heard often of your -family, and I know of its ancient and honorable extraction. Perhaps my -own may fairly make pretensions of a similar character. Lieutenant -Melville, permit me to introduce myself. I am Captain the Honorable -Charles Montague, eldest son to Lord George Montague, of Bridgewater -Hall, Yorkshire. I am delighted to meet you, Lieutenant Melville, and -doubly delighted to know that you also have letters to our illustrious -commander-in-chief, and that we shall be comrades in arms and in glory." - -"Marcel," said I, after a moment's pause, for he had taken the breath -from me, "this is impossible. It would mean the halter for both of us -before to-morrow night." - -"Not so," he replied. "Neither of those men has a personal acquaintance -in the British army. What I propose is easy enough, if we only preserve -a little coolness and tact. I am tired of skulking about like a -half-starved hound, and I want an adventure. It's only for a day or two. -Moreover, think what valuable information we might be able to acquire in -Philadelphia, and what a great service we might render to our -commander-in-chief. But of course, if you are afraid to go with me, I -will go alone." - -So speaking, he looked at me in the most provoking manner. - -Now, I hold that I am a prudent man, but the Highland fourth in my blood -will get the mastery of the English three-fourths now and then, and I -never would take a dare from Marcel. Besides, I had a sudden vision and -I dreamed of a great service to a desperate cause, to be followed -perhaps by high promotion. - -"A good idea," I said. "We will go to our colonel and propose it at -once." - -Marcel laughed, and his manner became more provoking than ever. - -"And be called a fool for your trouble," he said. "Now is your chance or -not at all. Come, Bob! Our success will bring our pardon. At this moment -the way of a true patriot lies there." - -He pointed toward Philadelphia, and his words were most tempting. - -"Very well," I said; "if you go alone you will surely be detected and -hanged as a spy. Since it is necessary for me to go with you to save -you, I'll have to do it." - -"It is most kind of you," said Marcel; "and then if we must hang it will -be pleasanter for us to hang together." - -We beckoned to Sergeant Pritchard and told him our plan. He was full of -astonishment and protestations. But, as he was under our command, he -could do naught but obey. - -The two young Englishmen were compelled to retire behind some trees and -divest themselves of their fine clothes, which we donned, giving them -our rags in return. All the letters and other documents that we found in -their possession we put in our pockets. Then we mounted their sleek, fat -horses and turned our heads towards Philadelphia. - -"Sergeant Pritchard," I said, "look well to the prisoners, and see that -they do not escape ere we return." - -"Then they will never escape," he said. "Lieutenant Chester, you and -Lieutenant Marcel could find better ways to die. I beg you to come -back." - -"Sergeant Pritchard," said Marcel, "we will do you the honor of dining -with you, at your expense, one month from to-day. Meanwhile report to -our colonel the nature of the errand upon which we are now going." - -Then we bowed low to the gentlemen whose clothes we wore, and galloped -off towards Philadelphia. - -One can become intoxicated without drinking, and the air was so -brilliant and buoyant that I think it got into our heads and created in -us an unusual measure of high spirits. Moreover, we were so nobly clad -and had such good horses under us that we felt like gentlemen of quality -for the first time in many long and weary months. We galloped at a great -rate for a half-hour, and then when we pulled our horses down to a walk -Marcel turned a satisfied smile upon me. - -"Lieutenant Melville, allow me to congratulate you upon the make and set -of your uniform," he said with extreme politeness. "It is in truth most -becoming to you, and I dare say there is no officer in the service of -our gracious Majesty King George who could present a finer appearance or -prove himself more worthy of his commission." - -"A thousand thanks, Captain Montague," I replied. "Such a compliment -from an officer of your critical discernment and vast experience is in -truth most grateful. Permit me to add, without attempting to flatter -you, that you yourself make a most imposing and military figure. May -these perverse rebels soon give us both a chance to prove our valor and -worth!" - -"The warlike words of a warrior," said Marcel. "And it seemeth to me, -Lieutenant Melville, that the warrior is worthy of his wage. The country -about us is fair. There are hills and dales and running streams and -woodland and pasture. I doubt not that when all the rebels are hanged -and their goods confiscated, the king will allot brave estates to us for -our most faithful services. It will be very pleasant to each of us, -Lieutenant Melville, to have fair acres in this country to add to what -we may have some day in England. See that tall hill afar to the right. I -think I will rear my mansion upon its crest. That curtain of wood on the -slope there will make a lordly pad, while my lands will roll back for -miles." - -"And I trust that I shall be your neighbor, Captain Montague," I -replied, "for, behold, to the left is another hill, upon which a noble -building shall rise, the home of the famous soldier General Melville, -Duke of Pennsylvania." - -Then we threw our heads back and laughed like two boys out for a frolic. - -"There is one thing that both of us must bear in mind, Lieutenant -Melville," said Marcel, presently. - -"What is that?" I asked. - -"We must not forget the tragic end of two young American officers whom -we knew, Lieutenant Robert Chester, of Pennsylvania, and Lieutenant -Philip Marcel, of South Carolina." - -"Ah! their fate was sad, very sad," I said. - -Marcel put his face in his hands and appeared to weep. - -"They departed this life very suddenly," he said, "about ten o'clock of -a fine morning, on the 8th of May, 1778, in his Britannic Majesty's -province of Pennsylvania, about fifteen miles east of his most loyal -city of Philadelphia. The witnesses of their sudden and sorrowful demise -were Sergeant Pritchard, four privates in the rebel service, and two -young British officers who had just been captured by the aforesaid -rebels. But such, alas, are the chances of war; we must even weep their -fate, for they were so young and so ingenuous! Lieutenant Melville, will -you weep with me?" - -We bowed our heads and wept. - -"Suppose the English officers should ask us about England and our homes -and kin?" I said to Marcel. "How could we answer them without at once -convicting ourselves?" - -"That will be easy enough," replied Marcel, gayly. "We have brains, -haven't we? And if any impertinent fellow becomes too inquisitive we can -do as the Connecticut man does: we can answer a question with a -question of our own. Besides, there is plenty of information in these -letters that we have captured, and we can study them." - -We were now approaching the British lines, but were still in a region -that might be called doubtful ground, since parties from either army -scouted and foraged over it. - -I suggested that we halt in the shade of a convenient grove and examine -the letters again with minute care, rehearsing them in order that we -might be perfectly familiar with their contents. This we did, and then -each tested the knowledge of the other, like a pedagogue questioning his -pupil. - -"I think we'll do," said Marcel. "Even if we were to lose the letters, -we can remember everything that is in them." - -"That being granted," I replied, "I propose that we push on at once for -Philadelphia. I am amazingly hungry, and I have heard that the rations -of the British officers are a delight to the stomach." - -We mounted our horses and rode leisurely on. As we were drawing near to -the city we expected to meet scouting or skirmishing parties, and we -were not subjected to disappointment. - -Presently, as our road wound around a hill we heard a clanking of spurs -and the jabber of voices. Through some trees we could see bits of -sunshine reflected from the metal of guns. - -"A British scouting or foraging party," said Marcel. "Now, Bob, remember -that we are to carry it off like two young lords, and are to be as -weighty of manner as if we equalled Sir William Howe himself in rank." - -We shook up our horses, and they trotted forward, Marcel and I assuming -an air of ease and indifference. A dozen troopers came into our view. -They were rather a begrimed and soiled lot, and it was quite evident to -us that they had been on a foraging expedition, for one of them carried -chickens and turkeys, and another had a newly slain pig resting -comfortably across his saddle-bow. The leader seemed to be a large swart -man who rode in front and clutched a squawking hen in his left hand. - -"They're Americans! They're of our own side, by Jupiter!" exclaimed -Marcel. "We'll warn them that this is dangerous ground and that they may -meet the enemy at any moment." - -So we whipped up our horses and galloped forward with this benevolent -purpose in view. - -But, to our great amazement and to our equal indignation, the large man -drew a horse-pistol of a bigness proportioned to his own, and fired -point-blank at us. I heard three or four slugs whizzing in a most -uncomfortable manner past my head, and, thinking it was time to stop, -drew back my horse with a jerk. - -"The confounded whipper-snapper dandies!" exclaimed the big man with the -pistol. "Would they dare to ride us down! At them, lads, and knock them -off their horses!" - -"Stop! stop!" shouted Marcel. "What do you mean by attacking your own -countrymen and comrades?" - -But his only answer was a shout of derision and the cocking of pistols. -Then I remembered that we were clad in the British uniform. The -Americans might well believe that our protestations of friendship were -but a sham. In truth, they could scarce be expected to believe aught -else. With a quick and powerful jerk of the rein I wheeled my horse -about. Marcel did likewise, and away we galloped, our countrymen hot at -our heels and their bullets whistling about us. - -It was lucky for us that the foragers were well loaded up with spoil and -their movements and aim thus impeded. Otherwise I think we should have -been slain. But, as it was, none of their bullets struck us, and the -suddenness of our flight gave us a good start. We bent down upon our -horses' necks, in order to present as small a target as possible. - -"I think we ought to stop and explain," I said to Marcel when we had -galloped a few hundred yards. - -"But there is no time to explain," he replied. "If we were to check our -speed we would be overtaken by bullets before we could make explanation. -Our uniforms, though very fine and becoming, are much against us, and -even if we should escape without wounds we would be taken back as -prisoners to the American army." - -"Then, Captain Montague," I said, "there is naught for us to do but -continue our flight to Philadelphia and escape within the lines of his -Britannic Majesty's most devoted army." - -"It is even so, Lieutenant Melville," returned Marcel. "How does his -Grace the Duke of Pennsylvania like to be pursued thus over his own -domain by these wicked rebels?" - -"He likes it not at all," I replied. - -"But he must even endure it," said Marcel, grinning in spite of our -predicament. - -We had gained somewhat upon our pursuers, but we could hear the big man -encouraging the others and urging them to greater speed. It was our good -fortune that the country was not obstructed by hedges or fences, and it -seemed that we might escape, for our horses evidently were the fresher. - -I looked back and saw the big man fifteen or twenty feet ahead of his -companions. He was making great efforts to reload his pistol, but was -keeping a watchful eye upon us at the same time. It was plain to me that -he was filled with the ardor of the chase and would not relinquish it as -long as it seemed possible to overtake us. Presently he adjusted the -charge in his pistol and raised the weapon. I saw that it was aimed at -me, and just as he pulled the trigger I made my horse swerve. -Nevertheless I felt a smart in my left arm and uttered a short cry. - -"Are you hurt?" asked Marcel, apprehensively. - -"No," I replied, "not much. I think his bullet took a piece of my skin, -but no more." - -For all that, a fine trickle of blood that came down my left sleeve and -stained my hand made me feel uneasy. - -We urged our horses to greater efforts, and the spirited animals -responded. We had curved about considerably in the course of our flight, -but I had a good idea of the country, and I knew that we were now -galloping directly towards Philadelphia. I trusted that if our pursuers -were aware of this fact they would abandon the chase, which threatened -soon to take them inside the British lines. But many minutes passed, and -they showed no signs of stopping. - -"We have our pistols," said Marcel. "We might use them." - -"We cannot fire on our own countrymen," I replied. - -"No," he replied, "but we can fire over their heads, and it may reduce -the infernal eagerness they show in their pursuit. A bullet properly -directed discourages overmuch enthusiasm." - -We twisted about in our saddles and discharged our weapons as Marcel had -suggested. But, unfortunately for us, our countrymen were brave and not -at all afraid of our pistols. They came on as fast as ever, while our -movement had checked our flight somewhat and caused us to lose ground -perceptibly. We began to grow discouraged. - -But in this moment of depression we saw a smudge of red across a valley, -and Marcel uttered a little shout of joy. - -"A rescue! A rescue, most noble duke!" he cried. "See, the British -troops are coming!" - -Through the valley a body of British cavalry were galloping. There were -at least fifty men in the party, and evidently they had seen us before -we saw them, for many of them held their sabres in their hands, and -presently they raised a great shout. - -Our American pursuers, seeing that they were out-numbered, turned about -and took to their heels with considerable precipitation. The next moment -we galloped into the middle of the British troop, and then, a curious -faintness overcoming me, I slid to the ground. - -Marcel, having thrown himself from his horse, was beside me in a moment, -and lifted me to my feet. - -"A little water, please, as soon as you can," he said to a fine stalwart -officer who had also dismounted and come to my aid. "The lieutenant was -wounded in a brush we had with those confounded rebels, and I fear his -strength is exhausted." - -"Then here is something much better for him than water," said the -officer, sympathetically. - -He held a canteen to my mouth, and I took a draught of as fine whiskey -as I have ever tasted. It put life back into me and I was able to stand -upon my feet without assistance. - -A half-dozen of the British had remained with the officer who gave me -the whiskey, but the others had continued the pursuit. This man, who -wore the uniform of a captain, was apparently about thirty-five, and of -prepossessing appearance. He looked at us inquiringly, and Marcel, who -guessed the nature of his unspoken question, said,-- - -"My friend here, who is so unfortunate as to be wounded, is Lieutenant -Arthur Melville, and I am Captain Charles Montague. We landed but lately -in New York, and we undertook to come across the country to -Philadelphia, for we have letters to Sir William Howe, and we wished to -see active service as soon as possible." - -"You seem to have had an adventure, at any rate," said the officer. - -"Why, it was nothing much, only a trifle," replied Marcel, airily. "If -the fellows had not been so numerous, I think we could have given a -handsome account of them. Melville here, before he got his wound, popped -one of them off his horse with a bullet through his head, and I think I -gave another a reminder in the shoulder which he will not forget very -soon. But it was lucky you came when you did, gentlemen, for they were -most persistent scoundrels, and I verily believe they would have -overtaken us." - -"It is a pleasure to have been in time to render you assistance," said -the officer. "My name is Blake, Geoffrey Blake, and I am a captain in -the Guards. I am something of a surgeon, and if Lieutenant Melville will -permit me I will examine his arm and discover the nature of his wound." - -The hurt proved to be very slight, but I readily saw how much the manner -of our entry into the British lines was in favor of our plan. We had -come up full tilt, pursued by the Americans, and an American bullet had -grazed my arm. The chase, after all, was a fortunate accident, for it -created a vast prepossession in favor of our assumed identity. - -"It was an early and rather rude welcome that the rebels gave us," said -Marcel, as we were examining the wounded arm, "but I fancy that we will -yet find an opportunity for revenge." - -"No doubt of it! No doubt of it!" said Captain Blake. "We have not been -able to bring on a general battle for some time, but their skirmishers -swarm like flies around us, and nothing is safe beyond the sight of our -army. It was very bold of you, gentlemen, to undertake a journey from -New York to Philadelphia across a rebel-infested country." - -"We thought we might have a skirmish with the rebels," said Marcel, -lightly, "and we had no great objection to such an encounter: did we, -eh, Melville?" - -"Oh, no, not at all, so long as Captain Blake and his gallant men were -at hand to rescue us," I replied. - -Captain Blake bowed and regarded us with a look of great favor. I saw -that we were fast establishing our reputation with our new British -friends as men of dashing courage and good nature. Presently the -troopers who had pursued the Americans returned and reported that they -had been unable to catch them. - -"They disappeared in the woods over there," said a lieutenant, "and we -can discover no further traces of them. And they carried all their spoil -with them, too; not a chicken, not a turkey, could we retake." - -"Let them go," replied Captain Blake. "At least we have saved our -friends here from capture." - -"Which the aforesaid friends consider to be not the least among your -achievements," said Marcel. - -Captain Blake laughed good-humoredly, and then we rode into -Philadelphia, Marcel and I bearing ourselves like conquering heroes and -guests of honor. - - - - -CHAPTER TWO--_Feeling the Way_ - - -We made a fine cavalcade when we rode through the streets of -Philadelphia. As we had stopped at the outposts in order to comply with -the usual formalities, a rumor of our adventures preceded us, and, since -it is not the habit of rumor to diminish the importance of things, it -made notable heroes of Marcel and me. Some part of it came to our ears -as we proceeded, and we found that between us we had slain at least -eight rebels and had pursued a hundred others a matter of not less than -ten miles. - -"I fear, captain," said Marcel to Blake, "that we have achieved such a -reputation for valorous conduct that we will never be able to prove the -tenth part of it." - -"Trust me, gentlemen, for thinking better of you than that," replied -Captain Blake, who seemed to have taken a fine fancy for us. "I doubt -not that both of you will be winning honors on bloody battlefields." - -"If so," said Marcel, "we trust that General Blake will be there to see -it." - -Captain Blake, who, like most men, was not inaccessible to flattery, -seemed charmed at the high promotion Marcel had conferred so readily -upon him, and certain was I that we would have a fast friend in him. - -"I am going to take you immediately to Sir William himself," said the -captain, "as you have letters of introduction to him, and I doubt not -that he will place you on his own personal staff, where you will secure -fine opportunities for conspicuous service." - -"I would like to see service first at a well-loaded table," whispered -Marcel to me. "I was hungry before I reached Philadelphia, and the sight -of all these smug and comfortable people in the streets sharpens the -pangs of famine." - -And in truth the people we saw were a well-fed lot, with fat cheeks and -double chins, very unlike our own lean and hungry fellows, who had to -fight on empty stomachs. - -We arrived in a short time at the quarters of Sir William Howe, a -two-story brick house that had once been a private residence, and I was -somewhat astonished at the luxury and display I witnessed there. There -were as many articles for ease and adornment as ever I had seen in the -mansions of our most wealthy citizens, and seeing it all I did not -wonder why this general should have been called "The Sluggard." It -contrasted strongly with the simplicity of our own commander-in-chief's -hut, and I, who had not slept under a roof in a year, felt oppressed, as -if the air were too heavy for my lungs. But it was not so with Marcel, -who loved his ease and basked in rich colors. - -"We have made a happy change, Chester," he said to me as we waited for -Sir William. "This in truth looks to be a most comfortable place, and if -we do not find much enjoyment here it will be because we are men of -small resources." - -I was thinking of the great risks we were incurring, and made no answer. -He did not notice it. He sighed in the most contented fashion, and said -it was the first moment of real enjoyment he had experienced in six -months. But his lazy pleasure was soon interrupted by the entrance of -Sir William Howe himself. The British commander was a swart, thick man, -whose plump face and figure indicated a love of good eating. His -expression was indolent, and on the whole good-natured. He received us -with kindness. It was evident that some one had blown our trumpet for us -already: I guessed that it was Blake. - -"I am delighted to see you, gentlemen," he said. "It was in truth a -daring deed to ride from New York to Philadelphia, as the rebels infest -the country between. It is fortunate that Lieutenant Melville escaped -with so slight a wound. I should like to hear more about your -adventures, gentlemen." - -Then Marcel with an air of great modesty told a most remarkable story of -our encounter, how we had driven the rebels back once, and had knocked -two of them off their horses, but at last under stress of numbers were -compelled to retreat. I took careful note of everything he said, because -if the time came for me to tell the tale alone, as most like it would, -mine must not vary from Marcel's in any particular. Sir William seemed -to be much pleased with the story. - -"That will bear retelling," he said. "I must have you two, Captain -Montague and Lieutenant Melville, at our dinner to-morrow. I am to have -a company here composed of my most distinguished officers and of some of -our loyal friends of Philadelphia. I shall be glad for you to come, -gentlemen; and do you look your best, for there will be beauty at the -banquet." - -Of course we accepted the invitation with great alacrity, but a shade -came over Marcel's face. The general observed it with keen eye. - -"What is it that you find displeasing, Captain Montague?" he asked. - -Marcel hesitated, and seemed to be in a state of perplexity. - -"I fear it would anger you, general, if I were to name the cause," he -replied. - -"Speak out! Tell me what it is. Would you rather not come? If so, have -no hesitation in declaring it," said Sir William. - -But the general did not appear at all pleased at the possibility of his -invitation to dinner being declined by a junior officer. At which I did -not wonder, for it would have savored much of disparagement, not to say -impertinence. - -"It is not that, general," replied Marcel, making a most graceful -genuflection. "We have already derived acute pleasure in anticipation -from the banquet to which you have so graciously invited us. But, -general, it is the truth that we have great need of one now. General, it -pains me to have to say it in your presence, but we are starving. We -have not eaten for a day. Perhaps we could have contained ourselves, if -you had not spoken of a feast, but that was too much for our endurance." - -The general burst into a fit of great and hearty laughter. Marcel's sly -impertinence, for such it was, seemed to please him. - -"Starving, eh?" he exclaimed. "Then I must see that my heroes who fought -the rebels so well do not perish of hunger. Britain has not yet come to -such a pass that she must deny food to her soldiers. Vivian will care -for you." - -He called an aide of about our own age and bade him take us to the -officers' mess and give us the best that was to be found. This Vivian -was a talkative and agreeable young personage. We had to tell our entire -story again to him, which perhaps was not a bad thing, as it was a kind -of rehearsal and served to fasten the matter in our minds. I was -narrator this time, and I am confident that I followed Marcel's story so -well that if the two tales had been written out a reader could have -found no difference in them. It is so easy to lie sometimes. - -"You are caught between luncheon and dinner," said Vivian, "but I think -the cook can knock up enough for you to stay the pangs of starvation." - -"I trust he may," said Marcel, devoutly, "or else he will be responsible -for our deaths, and that would be too heavy a weight for a regimental -cook to bear." - -It was evident that the cook had faced such emergencies before, as he -was nobly equal to it, and we did not restrain the expression of our -gratitude when we were seated at a table in the mess-room, with an -imposing meat pie, an abundance of bread and vegetables, and a flagon of -wine before us. - -"We can do better than this when we are warned," said Vivian. - -"This is ample and most comforting," I replied; and that was about the -first true thing said by either Marcel or me since we had entered -Philadelphia. - -There was in this mess-room the same touch of luxury and adornment, -though more restrained, that we had noticed at the headquarters of the -general. It was evident that his Britannic Majesty's officers lived well -in the good city of Philadelphia. - -"Oh, why did we not come sooner?" exclaimed Marcel, with a double -meaning that I alone understood. - -"The rebels seem to have hurried you along fast enough," said Vivian, -with a laugh. - -"We hope to reverse the case soon," replied Marcel, "and become the -pursuers ourselves. Meanwhile I take great comfort in demolishing this -pie." - -The news of our adventure had been spread very generally about -headquarters, as several officers came in while we ate. They were rather -a friendly lot, and some of them I liked. Blake, our first British -friend, was among them. - -"I wonder the rebels had the courage to pursue you," said a very callow -youth named Graves. - -"Don't the rebels fight well?" asked Marcel. - -"Oh, no, not at all," returned Graves, superciliously. "They take to -flight at the first glimpse of a British uniform." - -"Then why don't you go out and show yourself, Graves?" asked Vivian; -"for they say that bands of the rebels do come alarmingly close to -Philadelphia." - -There was a general laugh, and Graves turned almost as red as his coat. - -"There is no doubt," said an older officer, named Catron, "as to our -ability to crush these rebels if we could get them into a corner. But -they are most cursedly sly." - -"However," said I, for I was determined to defend my countrymen despite -our situation, "the rebels are the weaker, and it is the business of the -weaker party to avoid being pushed into a corner. And according to all -the accounts that have come to England, they seem to show much skill in -this particular." - -"It is true," replied Catron, "but I must persist in calling it most -unhandsome behavior on their part. They don't give us a chance to win -any laurels, and they won't let us go home. We are kept in a condition -of waiting and uncertainty which is the most unpleasant of all things." - -"Well, all that will speedily come to an end," said Marcel, "for my -friend Melville has arrived, and I tell you in strict confidence, -gentlemen, that Melville is the fiercest warrior since Marlborough. I -doubt not that the rebels, having heard of his arrival, are even now -fleeing into the wilderness across the Alleghany Mountains, that they -may forever be beyond the reach of his mighty arm." - -The laugh went around again, and this time at my expense. - -"Perhaps, if the discourteous rebels had known that I was one of the -gentlemen whom they were pursuing," I said, "it might have saved my -friend Captain Montague much exasperation of spirit and the loss of a -most elegant military cloak that he brought from England with him. I -assure you, gentlemen, that when we were compelled to take to flight the -captain's beautiful cloak trailed out behind him like a streamer, and -finally, a puff of wind catching it, left his shoulders entirely. I -doubt not that some ragged rebel is now wearing it as a trophy. Ah, -captain, it was a most beautiful cloak to lose, was it not?" - -"And it was with that very cloak upon my shoulders," said Marcel, -falling into the spirit of the matter, "that I expected to make conquest -of some of these provincial maidens of whom report speaks in such -glowing terms. Alas, what shall I do?" - -"Oh, it will be easy enough to get it back," said a young officer, whose -name, as I afterwards learned, was Reginald Belfort. "These rebels are a -poor lot. They cannot stand before us." - -Belfort was young and handsome, but his face expressed arrogance and -superciliousness. I liked him but little. - -"I know not much of the rebels from personal observation," I replied, -not relishing his sneer, "but General Burgoyne would hardly have said -that at Saratoga." - -"No," commented Vivian, "for it would be somewhat severe upon General -Burgoyne to be captured with all his veterans by such a poor lot of men -as Belfort says the rebels are." - -"You must not forget," said Catron, good-humoredly, "that Belfort thinks -the rebels are inferior in blood. Belfort, as you know, gentlemen, has a -lineage that dates back to the Conquest. He claims that these rebels are -the descendants of peasants and out-casts, and therefore should admit -their inborn and permanent inferiority." - -"And such they are," said Belfort, still sneering. "They should be ruled -by the gentlemen of England, and ruled by them they will be." - -"What were the Normans themselves in the beginning," I asked, "but -Scandinavian pirates and peasants? The ancestors of these rebels may -have been peasants, but at any rate they were not pirates." - -Belfort flushed, and for a moment could not answer. He knew that I had -spoken the truth, as any one who reads history knows also. - -"We have come to a fine pass," he said at length, "when a man who has -just escaped by the speed of his horse from the rebels sets himself up -as their defender." - -"That may be," I replied, for I was still somewhat angry; "but I do not -think it worth our while to depreciate men who have already taken an -entire army of ours, and keep all our other forces cooped up in two or -three large towns." - -"Melville does not want to diminish the glory of the victories that we -are to achieve," said Marcel, lightly. "The more valiant and the more -worthy the foe, the greater one's glory to triumph over him." - -"That is a very just observation," said Vivian, who seemed anxious to -avoid a quarrel, "and I propose that the quality of the rebels and the -amount of resistance they will offer to our conquering armies be left to -the future. Such warlike questions will keep. Milder subjects better -become the present." - -"Then would not the dinner that the general is to give to-morrow be a -fit topic?" asked young Graves. - -"Our new friends are to be there," said Vivian. "You are lucky chaps, -Montague, you and Melville, to be invited, so soon after your arrival, -to one of Sir William's entertainments. There is not a better diner in -America, or Europe either, than the commander-in-chief." - -"The banquet is to be blessed by beauty too," said Graves. "Our fair -ally and her renegade father are to be there. Oh, but Sir William keeps -a sharp eye on the old scoundrel, and well he deserves to be watched -thus." - -"I beg to avow ignorance of whom you mean," I said, my curiosity -aroused. "You must remember that Montague and I have arrived but within -the day and know not the great personages of Philadelphia." - -"By 'old renegade' we mean John Desmond, merchant and money-lender of -this city, who it is said has more wealth than any other man in all this -rich colony, ay, even enough to set up a mighty estate in England, if he -so chose," replied Vivian; "and by 'our fair ally' we mean his daughter -Mary, as fine and fair a woman as these two eyes ever gazed upon. The -old Desmond leans to the rebels, and 'tis said would help them with his -money if he dared, while the daughter is all for us, as she should be, -being a born subject of our liege King George, God bless him. And 'tis -reported that it might go hard with the old rebel, but some of his sins -are forgiven him for the sake of his loyal and lovely daughter." - -I had not heard of the daughter before, but the name of the father was -known to me. Secret assistance of money had reached our camp sometimes, -and it was said that this John Desmond had sent it. Repute had it that -he was a man of great mind and brain, who would have come in person to -join us had not his rich properties in Philadelphia demanded his care -and attention; and I could well believe that his situation was of a very -precarious nature, despite his daughter's fidelity to the king. - -"I am curious to see both the rebel and his loyal daughter," said -Marcel, unconsciously speaking my own thoughts also. - -"You may yield to the charms of the daughter," replied Vivian, "but I -warn you that if you seek to retort her conquests upon her you will have -antagonists, and our friend Belfort here would not be the least among -them." - -Belfort frowned as if he did not relish the allusion, but it was a jolly -young company of officers, and his frowns did not prevent them from -having but small mercy upon him. - -"I am told," said Catron, "that the young lady looks very high, and it -will not be an easy task to win her. I think, Belfort, that the uniform -of a colonel would be an exceeding betterment to your chances. And even -if you should achieve success with the lady, I know not how the -glowering old Desmond will look upon you." - -"It seems to me, gentlemen," said Belfort, a trifle warmly, "that you -are over personal in your discussions." - -"Then in truth it is a most serious matter with you, eh, Belfort?" -exclaimed Vivian. - -"Nevertheless the field is open to any of us who choose to enter, and I -suspect that some of us do choose," said Catron. "Belfort must not -expect to win a battle unopposed." - -I saw that Belfort liked the discussion less and less, and that he did -not fancy rivalry. Many of the British officers in America, with worldly -wisdom, were already seeking alliances with our Colonial heiresses. I -had no doubt that Belfort had such designs in his mind, and I took a -dislike to him for it. - -Our appetites had now been dulled, and Vivian, seeing it, suggested that -perhaps we might like to seek repose, adding that we would not be -assigned to any regular service for a day or two. We accepted the -invitation to rest, as we were in truth tired. Evening was at hand and -it had been a long day, filled with many adventures. The officers wished -us a hearty good-night and slumber undisturbed by dreams of pursuing -rebels, and then left us. - -"I must return to Sir William," said Vivian, as he left, "but Waters -will take you to your quarters.--Here, Waters, see that Captain Montague -and Lieutenant Melville are made comfortable." - -Waters, a large, red-headed man in the dress of a British orderly, who -had just entered, stepped forward. - -"Waters is American," said Vivian, "but no Englishman is more loyal to -the king than he. He is a good soldier and a good fellow. In fact, he -has been so useful to us in various ways that he is in some sort a -privileged character, and often comes and goes pretty nearly according -to his own liking. So you may know that he is esteemed by us all." - -When Vivian had gone, Waters led the way to our quarters. Presently this -red-headed man said to us, "The rebels are very numerous about the city, -are they not, and make travelling a matter of much danger?" - -"Why should you think them numerous?" haughtily asked Marcel, who was a -great stickler for the formalities, and thought the man presumptuous in -speaking unbidden to his superiors. - -"I meant no harm, sir," replied Waters, humbly. "I heard that they -pursued you and your friend there almost into the city itself." - -"Well, at any rate," said Marcel, shortly, "they did not overtake us; -and if you will kindly conduct us to our quarters we will undertake to -get along without any further questions from you about the rebels." - -"Of a certainty, sir," replied Waters. "I see that your honor pays small -heed to the rebels." - -This savored of fresh impertinence, but neither Marcel nor I replied. -When we had reached the room and Waters was adjusting it for us, I saw -him regarding Marcel with a pair of remarkably keen and intelligent -eyes. It was a more comprehensive gaze than that of an ordinary -attendant prompted by curiosity, and there was something in it that -struck me with alarm. Presently his gaze shifted from Marcel and fell -upon me, but the eyes, meeting mine, passed on. A moment or two later, -Waters, having finished his task, bowed to us and left the room, walking -with a light, noiseless step, although he was a large, heavy man. - -Sometimes little things stir one overmuch, and it was so with this -incident. The man had aroused my apprehensions to a strange degree, and -I showed my alarm in my face, for Marcel, turning to me, exclaimed,-- - -"Why, what ails you? What are you scared about?" - -Then I explained how I had noticed the suspicious and inquiring gaze of -the man Waters. This made Marcel look serious also. - -"Of a truth the man was over-bold in his manner," he said, "and it may -be he believes I am no more Captain Montague than you are Lieutenant -Melville. He is an American, I believe Vivian said?" - -"Yes, one of the Tories." - -"They are the worst of all." - -But presently we took a more cheerful view of the matter. We reasoned -that, situated as we were, the slightest sort of an incident was likely -to breed suspicion in our minds. - -"At any rate," said Marcel, "I shall not be unhappy just after having -eaten the first substantial and plentiful meal that I have had in a -year. That red-headed Tory shall not rest upon my mind." - -"Nor upon mine," I said. - -"That being the case," continued Marcel, "we'd better go to sleep." - -Which we did. - - - - -CHAPTER THREE--_Sir William's Revel_ - - -I had heard that Sir William Howe was of sybaritic temperament. What we -had seen on the occasion of our first interview with him indicated the -truth of this report, and the sight that burst upon us when we entered -the apartments where his banquet of state was served was indubitable -confirmation. There was such a confusion of soft carpets and silken -hangings and glittering glass and other adornments of luxury that for a -few moments both Marcel and I were quite dazzled and overpowered. - -"I would like to turn about twenty of our starving soldiers loose here -with liberty to do their will for a half-hour," Marcel whispered to me. - -I smiled at the thought of the mighty wreckage and despoiling that would -ensue. But Vivian and Blake were coming to greet us, and soon we were -strolling about with them. We rendered our respects again to Sir -William, who received us with kindly courtesy. He was in the full blaze -of his most splendid and brilliant uniform, with a gold-hilted sword -hanging by his side, and I have rarely seen a more bravely adorned -figure. - -"Suppose we get a glass of wine," said Blake, after we had performed our -duty to our host and commander-in-chief. - -We made assent, and he led the way to a smaller room, where there was -spread a fine array of bottles and glasses. An attendant hastened to -fill the glasses for us, and when he handed mine to me I recognized the -face of the man Waters. Perhaps it was my imagination again, but his -eyes seemed to dwell upon me for a moment with a look of suspicion or -knowledge. But it was only for a moment, and then his face became as -blank and stupid as that of a well-trained attendant ought to be. But -the feeling of alarm was aroused in me as it had been aroused the night -before, and I drank off the wine at a draught to steady my nerves and to -still my fears. It had the effect desired: my blood grew warm in my -veins again. Then I saw how foolish I had been. The imagination loves to -trick us, and if ever we give it any vantage it will treat us in -precisely the same way again. - -Waters was asking me in the most respectful tone for the privilege of -refilling my glass, but I declined, and passed on with my friends. I -determined to say nothing to Marcel about this second alarm that Waters -had given me, for I knew that his volatile Southern temperament had long -since thrown off the effects of what he might have felt the previous -night, and he would only laugh at me. - -Marcel and the two Englishmen said by and by that they wanted another -glass of wine, and decided to return to the room in search of it. I -wished to keep my head cool, and declined to go with them. - -"Very well," said Vivian. "Take care of yourself, and we will rejoin you -presently." - -So they left me; and I was not ill content to be alone,--that is, in so -far as one can be alone in the midst of a crowd,--as I wished to look on -and to note well, since I apprehended that in the course of our -adventure we would need a great store of knowledge as well as tact. I -was thinking such thoughts, and meanwhile failing to look about me with -the acuteness that I had intended, when I turned an angle of the hall -and barely saved myself from a collision with the most beautiful young -woman I had ever seen. Startled by my absence of mind and awkwardness, -she stepped back with a little cry, while I stammered out some sort of -an apology, though all the while I kept my eyes upon her face, which was -of that clear, fine, and expressive type that I so much admire. The -slight look of annoyance appearing at first in her eyes passed away. I -suppose it was my look of admiration that placated her, for I have heard -old men who know much of women say that no one of them is so good or so -indifferent as not to be pleased by evident admiration. A half-dozen -brilliantly uniformed officers were around her, and one of them--Catron -it was--stepped forward. - -"Miss Desmond," he said with easy grace, "permit me to introduce to you -the valiant Lieutenant Melville, who is one of the heroes of yesterday's -encounter with the rebel band, of which you perhaps have -heard.--Lieutenant Melville, make obeisance to Miss Desmond, our fairest -and most faithful ally." - -So this was the woman. As traitorous as she was fair! The apostate -daughter of a patriot father! Not all her beauty--and I was fain to -confess to myself that it was great--could prevent the anger from -rising within me. - -But I concealed my feelings and made a most lowly obeisance. - -"You are just from England, I hear, Lieutenant Melville," she said. "Ah, -that is a happy land! There the king's subjects are loyal and devoted to -his welfare, while this wretched country is rent by treason and war." - -Her words increased my anger. - -"Miss Desmond," I said, "I am a soldier of his Majesty King George, and -hope to serve him well, but I can condemn the rebels as rebels only and -not as men also. I hear that Mr. Washington and many of his officers -are, aside from their lack of loyalty, most worthy persons." - -These words had a bold sound, but I had determined to adopt such a -course, as I believed it would come nearer to allaying suspicion than -any over-warm espousal of Britain's cause. This in truth seemed to be -the case, for two or three of the officers murmured approval of my -words. - -"You seem to be as frank as you are bold," said Miss Desmond, coldly. -"But perhaps it would be wise for you to keep these opinions from Sir -William Howe." - -"He has not yet asked me for my opinions," I replied; then adding as an -apology for the rudeness, "but if any one could convert me by argument -to the belief that the morals of the rebels are as bad as their -politics, it would be Miss Desmond." - -"Then," she said, somewhat irrelevantly, "you do not believe that all -these men should be hanged when the rebellion is crushed?" - -"Miss Desmond," I replied, "you cannot hang an entire nation." - -"Fie! fie!" broke in Catron, "to talk of such a gruesome subject at such -a time! Melville, acknowledge yourself one of Miss Desmond's subjects, -and come with us." - -"I yield willingly to such overwhelming odds," I said. - -"You are just in time," said Catron, "for here comes Belfort, who is -even more fierce against the rebels than Miss Desmond." - -Belfort saluted Miss Desmond in his most courtly manner, but was chary -of politeness to the remainder of us. It was evident that he wished to -assume a certain proprietorship over Miss Desmond, but the gay crowd -around her was not willing to submit to that, and Miss Desmond herself -would not have allowed such cool appropriation. So among us we made -Belfort fight for his ground, and, though it is wrong, perhaps, to -confess it, I extracted much enjoyment from his scarce-concealed spleen. -In this pleasant exercise we were presently aided by Marcel, who saw how -matters stood as soon as he joined us, and turned all the shafts of his -sharp wit upon Belfort. - -But these passages at arms were soon broken up, as the time for the -banquet arrived. The largest room in the house was set apart for the -feasting, and the great table which ran almost its full length supported -an array of gold and silver plate of a splendor and quality that I had -never seen before. In the adjoining chambers were stationed two of the -regimental bands, the one to play while the other rested. Scores of wax -candles in magnificent candelabra shed a brilliant light over gold and -silver plate and the gorgeous uniforms of the gathering guests. Of a -truth the British army lived well. How could we blame our ragged and -starving men for leaving us sometimes? - -Sir William, as a matter of course, presided, with the general officers -on either side of him. But a seat or two away from him was a large man -in civilian's dress. This man was of a noble but worn countenance, and I -guessed at once that he was John Desmond. I soon found that I was right, -and I wondered why Sir William had brought him to the banquet, but -supposed it was for his daughter's sake. - -Miss Desmond was near the upper end of the table, with Belfort by her -side. Nor was she the only beauty at the banquet, as the wives and -daughters of our rich Philadelphians were very partial to the British, -whose triumph in America they considered certain. This fact was not a -matter of pleasure and encouragement to good patriots. - -I would have liked to be near Miss Desmond, as I wished to draw her out -further in regard to her political principles. I did not understand why -an American woman could be so bitter against the best of her countrymen, -and moreover there is a certain pleasure in opposition. We soon grow -tired of people who always agree with us. But it was not my fortune to -be near enough to converse with her. Nevertheless I could watch the -changing expression of her brilliant countenance. - -The viands and the liquors were of surpassing quality, and under their -satisfying influence the dinner proceeded smoothly. There was much talk, -mostly of the war and its progress, and everybody was in fine feather. -Despite the late successes of the Americans in the North, there seemed -to be no one present who did not anticipate the speedy and complete -triumph of the British arms. - -"Sir William expects to be made a marquis at least," said Blake, who was -one of my neighbors, to me, "and if he should take Mr. Washington he -would deserve it." - -"Of a certainty he would deserve it if he should do that," I said. - -Miss Desmond was talking with great animation to some officers of high -rank, but my attention presently wandered from her to her father, and -was held there by his square, strong, Quakerish face and moody look. -This man wore the appearance of a prisoner rather than that of a guest, -and replied but curtly to the questions addressed to him, even when Sir -William himself was the questioner. I was near enough to hear some of -these questions and replies. - -"It is a gay and festal scene, is it not, Mr. Desmond?" said Sir -William. "It seems to me that the pinched condition of the rebels, of -which we hear so much, would contrast greatly with this." - -"You speak truly, Sir William," said Mr. Desmond, "but you do not say in -whose favor the contrast would be." - -I inwardly rejoiced at the bold and blunt reply, but Sir William only -smiled. In truth I soon saw that he and some of the high officers around -him had set out to badger the old Philadelphian, which I deemed to be a -most ungallant thing, as he was wholly in their power. - -"Mr. Desmond still feels some lingering sympathy for his misguided -countrymen," said a general. "But perhaps it is as well that he does, is -it not, Sir William? they will need it." - -"It is a characteristic of my countrymen to show patience and endurance -in adversity," said Mr. Desmond, proudly. - -"Let us attribute that to their British blood," said Sir William. - -"And the bad qualities that they show," added a colonel, "we will -attribute to their American birth." - -"If you will pardon me for making the observation, gentlemen," said Mr. -Desmond, with great dignity, "it was such attempts at discrimination, -such reflections upon the American birth of British subjects, that were -among the many causes of this present unfortunate war." - -I would have applauded the stanch old merchant had I dared, and I -listened without any reproach of my conscience for more, but Sir -William's reply was lost amid a jangle of talk and the clinking of -glasses. Moreover, at that precise moment an insinuating voice at my -elbow asked me if I would have my wineglass filled again. There was a -familiar tone in the voice, and, turning my head slightly, I beheld the -leering visage of Waters. At least there seemed to me to be a leer upon -his face, though I am willing to admit that imagination may have played -a trick upon me. - -Either this man was dogging me, or it was a curious chance that put him -so often at my elbow. But I preserved my equanimity and curtly ordered -him to fill my glass again. This he did, and then passed on about his -business, leaving me much vexed, and all the more so because I had lost -the thread of the most interesting dialogue between Mr. Desmond and the -British officers. Mr. Desmond's face was flushed, and there was a -sparkle in his eye that told of much anger. - -"They're worrying the old rebel," said Blake to me, "but he has a stern -spirit, and, as he is aware that his opinions are known, it is not -likely that he will try to curry favor." - -"It seems to me to be scarce fair to treat him thus," I said. - -"Perhaps not," he replied, "but it is not so bad as it would appear, for -by my faith the old man has a sharp tongue and the spirit to use it." - -"Do you have many such events as this in Philadelphia?" I asked, meaning -the banquet. - -"We do not suffer from a lack of food and drink," replied Blake, with a -laugh, "and on the whole we manage to while away the hours in a -pleasurable manner. But we have a bit of the real military life now and -then also. For instance, the day we rescued you and Montague from the -rebels, we were out looking for that troublesome fellow Wildfoot and -his band. A loyal farmer brought us word that he was lying in the woods -within a few miles of the city." - -"Did you find him?" I asked. - -"No," said Blake, with an expression of disappointment, "but we found -where he had been, for every horse and cow of the aforesaid loyal farmer -had been carried off in his absence." - -"It was not very far from serving him right," I said. - -"From the standpoint of an American it was extremely even-handed -justice," said Blake. - -Now, this Wildfoot was a most noted partisan or ranger who had come up -from Virginia, and, though I had not seen him yet, our army--and the -British army also, I doubt not--was filled with the tale of his deeds, -such as the cutting off of British scouting and skirmishing parties and -the taking of wagons loaded with provisions, which last were worth much -more to us than the taking of prisoners; for we could not eat the -prisoners, though I have seen the time when I was sorely tempted to do -so. - -In consequence of these things, all patriotic Americans regarded -Wildfoot with pride and gratitude. But, as the tale went, I had been so -short a time in America it was not meet that I should know much about -him; so I requested Blake to enlighten my understanding on the point, -which he proceeded to do, and to my great delight, gave a most -marvellous account of the pestiferous fellow's misdeeds. - -"He is here, there, and everywhere, chiefly everywhere," said Blake; -"and I must admit that so far his ways are past finding out. He is doing -more harm to us than a big battle lost. What is most annoying is the -fellow's impertinence. One afternoon he and his band rode up to the -river within full sight of the city and stopped a barge loaded with -soldiers. They could not carry off the men, but they took their muskets -and bayonets and all their ammunition, and, what is more, they got away -without a scratch." - -I had heard of the deed. In truth, some of the muskets taken on that -occasion by Wildfoot and his men found their way to our regiment, where -they proved a most welcome and serviceable addition, for, as I have said -before, the British always arm and equip their soldiers well. - -Blake was going into some further account of Wildfoot's exploits, when -he was interrupted by the toast. Very heavy inroads had been made upon -the wine supplied by his Majesty to his officers in America, and though -the guests were not so far advanced into a state of hilarity as to -render the absence of the ladies necessary, yet it was manifest that -their spirits were rising. It was in truth fit that the toast-making -should not be put off much longer, for, though the capacity of the -British stomach is one of the wonders of the world, there is a limit to -all things. - -Sir William rose in a very stately manner, considering his deep -potations, and called for a toast to his Britannic Majesty. - -"And may he soon triumph over his rebellious subjects here and wherever -else they choose to raise their heads!" said Sir William. - -My glass had been filled before this toast by the ready Waters, as those -of all the others had been filled for them, and I was even compelled to -drink it. I looked across at Marcel and caught his eye. It twinkled with -humor. It was easy to see that he did not look at the matter in the same -serious light as I, and that reconciled me to it somewhat. But as I -swallowed the wine I changed the toast and said to myself,-- - -"Here is to the long life and success of General Washington and his -patriot army!" - -This eased my conscience still further. Then there was another toast to -the "speedy destruction of Mr. Washington and his rebels." - -I drank to this also, as drink I must, but again I said to myself,-- - -"I drink to the speedy destruction of the army of Sir William Howe and -of all the other armies of the oppressor in America, even as the army of -Burgoyne was destroyed." - -These and other toasts were accompanied by great applause; and when -there was some subsidence of the noise, Sir William, whose face, through -overmuch drinking, was now a fine mottle of red and purple, turned -towards Mr. Desmond and exclaimed,-- - -"We have had loyal and heartfelt expressions for our king and country, -but they have all come from Britain. His Majesty has other subjects who -owe him allegiance. I call upon my guest, the loyal Mr. Desmond of the -good city of Philadelphia, to propound a toast for us. Fill up your -glasses, gentlemen. We await your sentiments, Mr. Desmond." - -The noise of the talk ceased at once, for I think all were surprised at -this request from Sir William, knowing as they did that Mr. Desmond -thought not much of their cause. I wondered how the old merchant would -evade the matter, and looked at his daughter, who was watching his face -with evident anxiety. But Mr. Desmond, though the traces of anger were -still visible on his countenance, seemed to be in no state of -perplexity. He rose promptly to his feet with a full glass in his hand, -and said, in a voice that was very firm and clear,-- - -"Yes, gentlemen, you shall have a toast from a loyal American, loyal to -what is right. I drink to the health of General Washington, the best and -the greatest of men, and likewise to the health of his gallant and -devoted soldiers." - -So saying, and before a hand could be lifted to stop him, he raised the -glass to his lips and emptied it at a draught, I and many others doing -likewise, I because it was a toast that I liked, and the others because -it was the wine that they liked, and they seized the opportunity to -drink it before their dazed brains comprehended the nature of the toast. -Replacing the glass upon the table, Mr. Desmond looked defiantly about -him. For a moment there was the heavy hush which so often succeeds -impressive events, and then the company burst into a confused and angry -clamor. One officer, who had been performing most notably at the -wine-cup, leaned over, his face quite gray with passion, and would have -struck at the daring speaker, but another less heated seized him and -threw him not lightly back into his seat. Sir William turned furiously -upon the old man and exclaimed,-- - -"How dare you, sir, how dare you speak thus in my presence and in the -presence of all these gentlemen, loyal subjects of the king?" - -"Sir William," said a clear voice, "you must not forget that you asked -him for a toast. I say it with all due respect; but you knew his -principles, and perhaps you could not have expected anything else. Let -his daughter plead for his forgiveness, Sir William." - -Miss Desmond was standing. One hand rested upon the table in front of -her, the other was slightly raised. Her eyes were aflame, her attitude -was that of fearlessness. Above her white brow shone the black masses of -her hair like a coronet, and a ruby placed there gathered the light and -flashed it back in a thousand rays. Tory and traitor though she was, she -seemed to me then as noble as she was beautiful. - -"I need no defence," said Mr. Desmond, rising; "at least not from my own -daughter." - -She flushed deeply at the rebuke, but she went on nevertheless. - -"Sir William," she said, "remember that this was said at a banquet where -much wine has been drunk, and under provocation." - -"Sir William must yield to her," said Blake to me. - -"Why?" I asked. - -"Because it is as she says," he replied. "Bear in mind the place and -the incitement. Sir William brought the retort upon himself. If he -punishes the old rebel, the report of this is sure to get back to -England, and see what a reflection it would be upon the dignity and duty -of the commander-in-chief. High though his favor be, the king and the -ministers are but ill pleased with Sir William's conduct of the war, and -the tale of such an incident as this would do him much hurt in their -esteem." - -It was even as Blake said. Sir William hesitated. Moreover, I am not -loath to relate that many of the British officers were ruled by a spirit -of gallantry and fair play. They crowded around Sir William and told him -to let the matter pass as a jest. I suspect he was glad of their -interference, because he soon yielded. - -"Since the daughter pleads for the father's forgiveness, it shall even -be awarded to her," he said. "To beauty and loyalty we could forgive -greater sins." - -Miss Desmond bowed, but the frown gathered more deeply on the old -patriot's face. - -"I admire his spirit," said Blake, "but I would that it were displayed -on the right side. It is such stubborn men as he that make this country -so hard to conquer." - -"There are many such," I said, and I spoke with more knowledge than -Blake suspected. - -"I doubt it not," he replied. - -The banquet proceeded, but all the spirit and zest had gone out of it, -and very soon it ended, as in truth it was time it should. When we -withdrew from the apartment, I came near to Miss Desmond. She had -thrown a rich cloak over her shoulders in preparation for her departure, -and some traces of excitement or other emotion were still visible on her -face. Belfort was standing near. The man was always hovering about her. - -"Lieutenant Melville," said Miss Desmond, "you are only a short time in -this country, but you find that strange things happen here." - -"Not so strange, perhaps, as interesting," I replied. "However much I -may condemn your father's sentiments, Miss Desmond, I would be a churl -in truth to refuse admiration for the boldness and spirit with which -they have been expressed to-night." - -I spoke my opinion thus, knowing that she had the events of the evening -in mind. But she turned upon me sharply. - -"If it is unwise in my father to speak such sentiments so openly, it is -still more unwise in you to commend him for them, as he is an American -and may have some excuse, while you are an Englishman and can have -none," she said. - -Then she turned away with Belfort, who took her triumphantly to her -father. - -"Chester," said Marcel, when we were back in our quarters and were -sleepily going to bed, "the old Desmond hath a temper of which I -approve, and his daughter is fair, very fair." - -"But she has the tongue of a shrew," I said. - -"I am not sorry for that," he replied, "for she may exercise it on that -fellow Belfort when she is Madame Belfort." - -"Marcel," said I, after a silence of some minutes, "do you not think our -position is growing more dangerous every hour? Suppose Sir William -detects us." - -"Sir William," said Marcel, half asleep, "is not a great general, but -his wine is good, very good, and there was a noble supply of it." - - - - -CHAPTER FOUR--_On a New Service_ - - -When we awoke the next morning we found that the man who had put our -uniforms in order and attended to the other duties about the quarters -was Waters. There he was, grinning at us in the familiar way that made -my anger rise. Again I became suspicious of the fellow, although there -was nothing particular upon which I could rest my apprehensions, unless -it was the air of secret knowledge and importance I fancied I saw so -often on his face. But I reflected that such looks were as much the -characteristic of fools as of sages, and with this reflection I turned -very cheerfully to receive the morning draught which Waters handed to -me. The taste of it left no doubt that he was a noble compounder of -beverages, and when I had drunk it all I readily forgave him his wise -looks, for, as everybody knows, a cool draught in the morning is a -necessity after a revel of the night before. Moreover, in a talkative -way he volunteered us much information concerning the army and its -prospects. Suspecting that this would be useful to us, we had no -hesitancy in listening to him. - -I knew that the attendants about the quarters of the officers often came -into possession of valuable information, so I asked him, though I -pretended a very careless and indifferent manner, if anything weighty -were afoot. - -"A company of mounted dragoons are looking for Wildfoot, the American -ranger," he said, "and a wagon-train loaded with provisions gathered -from the farmers is expected in the afternoon. The general thinks the -train may draw Wildfoot and his robbers, and then the dragoons will come -down on him and put an end to him and his band." - -That Waters spoke the truth we soon had good proof, for somewhat later -both Marcel and I were ordered to join a troop commanded by Blake, which -was intended to co-operate with the body of dragoons already in search -of Wildfoot. Good horses had been secured for us, and we had no choice -but to go and serve against our own countrymen. - -"Let us trust to the luck which has never deserted us yet," said Marcel. -"We may be of service to this Wildfoot without betraying ourselves." - -That was a very reasonable and consoling way of putting the matter, and -I mounted my horse with a feeling of relief at the prospect of being out -in the country again. At least the hangman's noose was not drawn so -tightly around our necks there. We attracted attention from the populace -as we rode through the city, and in truth a fine body of men were we, -well mounted, well clothed, and well armed. Some of the people cheered -us, but I could see other faces glowering, and I liked them the better. -Though this Philadelphia, our finest city, lay under the heel of the -enemy, I knew it yet contained many faithful friends of the good cause. - -A light rain had fallen in the morning, and the beads of water still lay -on bush and blade of grass. Forest and field glowed in living green, and -the south wind, which had the odor of flowers in its breath, was fresh -as the dew upon our faces. - -"It makes one think of the mountains and lakes, and of sleep under the -trees," said Vivian, who was of our company. - -"I warn you that you will not have a chance, Vivian, to go to sleep -under a tree or anywhere else," said Blake. "We have more important -business than day-dreaming in hand. This fellow Wildfoot, who is worse -than a plague, must be trapped to-day." - -"I trust that we shall have him hanging from a strong oak bough before -nightfall," said Belfort, who also had been sent on the service. - -"I can scarce say that," continued Blake, who was a gallant fellow. "I -would rather fight these people with the sword than with the cord." - -The country seemed to be the abiding-place of peace. The district -through which we rode had not been harried, and we saw some farmers -going about their business. - -They noticed us but little; doubtless soldiers had ceased long since to -be an unaccustomed sight to them. The fresh air and the beauty of the -country acted like a tonic upon us. We broke into a gallop, our sabres -clanking at our sides. I forgot for the moment that I was with -enemies,--official enemies. - -"We should meet Barton somewhere near here," said Blake. - -Barton was the commander of the first troop that had been sent out to -trap Wildfoot. Blake had been sent along later, for fear Barton's squad -would not be strong enough for its task. Blake was to command both -detachments when they united. - -"Barton may not like to be superseded thus," said Blake, "but it is the -general's orders. He did not wish to take unnecessary risks." - -"Anyway, we will make sure of the rebels," said Belfort, "and a bit of -service like this does not come amiss, after so many weeks of feasting -and dancing in Philadelphia." - -"Those must be our friends on that distant hill-side yonder," broke in -Marcel, "for against the green of the grass there is a blur of red, -which I take to be British coats." - -Marcel was right, and the two parties soon formed a junction. Barton, a -middle-aged officer, did not seem so displeased as Blake thought he -would be at the coming of the reinforcements and his own supersession in -the command. - -"What news?" asked Blake eagerly of him. "Have you seen anything of the -rebels yet?" - -"No," replied Barton; "but if you will ride with me to the crest of this -hill, I will show you the wagon-train." - -Blake beckoned to several of us to accompany him, and we ascended the -hill, which was crowned with oak-trees. - -"See, there they are," said Barton, pointing into the valley beyond, -"and I think those wagons carry enough food to tempt the starving -rebels to almost any desperate deed." - -About thirty large Conestoga wagons, each drawn by four stout bullocks, -were moving along slowly and in single file. From where we stood we -could hear the creaking of the wagon wheels and the cracking whips of -the drivers. - -"You are right about the temptation," said Blake, "and if Wildfoot and -his men mean to make the dash upon them according to our advices, this -is the place for it. It would be a matter of great ease for them to -surround the wagons in that valley. You have been careful to leave no -evidence of your presence, Barton?" - -"Yes; this is the nearest that we have been to the wagons," replied -Barton. "If the rebels are about, they cannot suspect that the train has -other guard than the soldiers you see riding with it." - -"I think it would be wise to keep watch as long as we can from this -summit," said Blake. "It is well wooded, and will serve to conceal us -from the rebels." - -"Captain," said a soldier who had ridden up hastily, "Lieutenant Vivian -wishes your presence immediately." - -Vivian had been left in charge for the moment of the soldiers down the -hill-side; and Blake, saying to us, "Come on, gentlemen," galloped back -to him. We found the entire troop drawn up as we had left them, but all -were gazing towards the north. We looked that way too, and at once saw -the cause of this concentrated vision. Just out of musket-range and -under the boughs of a large oak-tree were three or four horsemen. Their -reins hung loose, and their attitudes were negligent and easy, but all -wore the uniforms of Continental soldiers. Their coats were ragged and -faded, as in truth were all the uniforms in our army, but enough of the -color was left to allow no room for doubt. - -"By heavens, this savors much of impertinence!" said Blake. "How came -they there?" - -"We do not know," responded Vivian. "One of the men called my attention, -and we saw them sitting there just as they are now." - -I had been examining the men with great attention. The one who was -nearest to us was large, dark, and apparently very powerful. His figure -did not appear altogether strange to me. I was vexing my brain in an -endeavor to account for the recollection, when Marcel leaned over and -whispered to me,-- - -"Behold him, Chester. It is the lively gentleman who chased us so hotly -when we fled into the arms of our friends the British." - -"What is that you say?" asked Blake, who saw Marcel whispering to me. - -"I was reminding Lieutenant Melville," replied Marcel, "that we had -unexpectedly renewed an acquaintance. The large man who sits nearest to -us is the leader of the band who chased us into the midst of your troop -the other day." - -"We failed to take him then," responded Blake, quickly, "but I do not -think he can escape us now." - -"It would be a pity to use arms on such skulkers," said Belfort. "They -should be lashed into submission with whips." - -A hot reply was rising to my lips, but Blake said lightly: "Then we will -even delegate the task of lashing them to you, Belfort. We will look on -while you ride forward and perform your duty. But wait! what does that -fellow mean?" - -The large man had taken notice of us apparently for the first time. With -deliberate action he hoisted a piece of white cloth on the muzzle of his -gun-barrel, and then began to ride slowly towards us. - -"Does he mean that they surrender?" asked Blake. - -"I think not," said Marcel. "That is a flag of truce. He wishes to -confer with you." - -"I would hold no conference with him," said Belfort. "He is a rebel and -not worthy of it. Let us ride forward and shoot them down." - -"Not so," said Blake; "we must recognize a certain degree of -belligerency in them, rebels though they be, and we will hear what he -may have to say. Let no one raise a weapon against him while he bears -that white flag. The honor of England forbids it." - -Belfort was silent under the rebuke, but I could see that it stung him. -The American continued to approach, but when he was midway between us -and his companions he stopped. - -"Come," said Blake, "we will meet him." Accompanied by a party of -officers--Marcel, Belfort, Vivian, and myself among the number--he rode -forward. We stopped within speaking-distance of the man, who waited -very composedly. Then Blake hailed him and demanded his name and his -errand. - -"I am Captain William Wildfoot, of the American army," said the man, -"and I have somewhat to say to you that may be to your profit, if you -take heed of it." - -There were some murmurs in our group when the famous ranger so boldly -announced himself, and Blake said, in an undertone, "It would in truth -be a great mischance if the fellow escaped us now." - -Then he said to Wildfoot: "We have heard of you, and I may say have been -looking for you, but did not expect that you would come to meet us. What -is your message?" - -"I demand the surrender of your command," replied the ranger. "I would -spare bloodshed, which is distasteful to me, and I pledge you my word -that I will treat you well, all of you, officers and men." - -At this marvellous effrontery Blake swore a deep oath, and a murmur -arose from the soldiers behind us, who heard the demand, as the ranger -probably intended they should. - -"You may be witty, but you are not wise, Sir Rebel," returned Blake. -"Yield yourself at once, and perhaps you may secure the pardon of Sir -William, our commander-in-chief, though your misdeeds are many." - -"Not so fast, my friend," returned Wildfoot. "What you call my misdeeds -are deeds of which I am proud. At least they have been of some service -to our cause and of some disservice to yours, and that, I take it, is -the purpose of war. My demand for your surrender you may receive in -jocular vein, but I make it again." - -The man spoke with dignity, but it made no impression upon the English -officers, some of whom angrily exclaimed, "Ride the insolent rebel -down!" But Blake again restrained them, calling their attention to the -flag of truce. - -"Rejoin your companions," he said to Wildfoot "To that much grace you -are entitled, but no more, since you choose to boast of your treason and -other misdeeds." - -"It shall be as you wish," rejoined Wildfoot, "but I will find means to -let Sir William Howe know that I gave you fair warning. He cannot say -that I took advantage of you." - -He turned his horse and rode placidly back to his companions, while -Blake sat all a-tremble with rage. The moment Wildfoot reached his -comrades, who had been waiting for him in apparent listlessness, he -pulled off his wide-brimmed hat, which had shaded his face during the -interview, waved it to us, and galloped away through the forest, while -we, with a wild shout, galloped after him. - -"He will soon bitterly rue his theatrical display," said Blake, "for I -doubt not that Sir William will show little mercy to such a marauder as -he. So ho, my lads! Yonder goes the chase! Lose not sight of them!" - -The little American band had disappeared from our view for a moment, but -as we came into an opening we saw them again galloping ahead of us just -out of range. - -"Give them a hunting call!" said Blake to a trumpeter who galloped by -his side. "We will show these fellows what we think of them." - -The man raised the trumpet to his lips, and the clear and inspiriting -strains of a hunting catch rang through the forest. It was a note of -derision, a summons for the hunter to pursue the game, and in -recognition of its meaning the troopers burst into a cheer. - -"It will be a fine hunt,--ay, finer than to pursue the fox or the deer," -said Belfort. - -The fugitives were well horsed, for the distance between them and the -pursuers did not diminish. Some scattering shots were fired at them, but -all fell short, and Blake commanded the firing to cease until the -opportunities for execution grew better. - -The flight of the Americans led us gradually towards the foot of the -slope, and we came to a broad sweep of country which was free from trees -or undergrowth. Here the British pushed their horses to the utmost, and -Blake commanded his men to spread out fan-like, in the hope of enclosing -the fugitives if they sought to turn or double like foxes. There seemed -to be wisdom in this plan, for beyond the open the stretch of ground -practicable for horsemen narrowed rapidly. The country farther on was -broken by hillocks and curtained with scrubby woods. - -"We have them now," exclaimed Blake, joyously. "So ho! So ho! my lads!" - -The trumpeter again merrily blew his hunting catch, and the men cheered -its inspiring notes. I could easily understand why Blake was so eager to -overtake Wildfoot, who in himself would be a very important capture, -while his conduct on this occasion had been most irritating. It was his -wish to get within firing range of the fugitives before they crossed the -open stretch, but it was soon evident that such effort would be in vain. -The long easy stride of the horses that Wildfoot and his men rode showed -that they had strength in reserve. - -"There is a ravine in front of that wood," exclaimed Belfort, who rode -at my left hand. "Mr. Fox and his friends have trapped themselves." - -So it seemed. But, though Wildfoot must have seen the ravine, he and his -men galloped towards it without hesitation. - -"Forward, my men," cried Blake; "we'll take them now." - -Wildfoot and his men were at the edge of the gully, which we could now -see was wide and lined with bushes. They checked their horses, spoke to -them soothingly, and the next moment the gallant animals, gathering -themselves up, leaped over the bushes into the ravine, horses and men -alike disappearing from our view. - -"'Tis but a last desperate trick to delude us," cried Blake. "On, my -lads!" - -In a wide but converging line we swept down upon the gully. We were -scarce fifty feet from it when I heard a sharp, brief cry like a -command, and from the dense wood that lined its farther bank there burst -forth a flash of flame like the gleaming edge of a sword, only many -times longer and brighter, and the next moment we went down as if -smitten by a thunderbolt. - -In war there is nothing that strikes fear to the heart like a surprise. -While the front ranks of the British force crumbled away like a wrecked -ship before the beat of the sea, cries of terror burst from those -behind, and, mingling with the groans and the terrified neighing of the -horses, produced a din that bewildered me. From this stupor I was -aroused by the plunging of my horse, which had been wounded in the neck. -I seized the reins, dropped from my hands in the first shock, and was -endeavoring to draw back the frightened animal, so that he might not -trample upon the fallen, when Marcel's face appeared through the dense -smoke, and he shouted to me,-- - -"Shelter yourself behind your horse as much as you can. It is time for -them to give us another volley!" - -I took his advice not a whit too soon, for almost as he spoke, the -withering flame flashed from the wood a second time, and once again our -command cried out under the force of it. - -But the British--I will give them credit for bravery and all soldierly -qualities--began to recover from their surprise. Blake shouted and -cursed, and the officers, with a fine display of gallantry, helped him -to restore order in the command. Thus was the column beaten at length -into some sort of shape and the fire of the ambushers returned, though -no one could see whether the counter-fire did any execution. - -After a few moments of this fusillade the British began to retreat, -which was the wisest thing to do, for one who falls into a trap must -needs try to get out of it the best he can. But we heard a loud shout -on the slope above us, and a party of horsemen led by Wildfoot himself -burst from the covert and charged down upon us. - -"Here are enemies whom we can see!" shouted Blake. "At them, my lads!" - -The whole troop turned to meet the charge, but they were ill fitted to -endure it, for their flanks were still quivering beneath the fire from -beyond the gully. The two bodies of horsemen met with a crash, and the -British line staggered back. The next moment Wildfoot and his men were -among us. - -"By all the saints, I will do for him!" exclaimed Belfort, who had a -ready pistol in his hand. Wildfoot and Blake were crossing swords in so -fierce a combat that the ring of their blades was like the beat of the -hammer upon the anvil. - -Belfort levelled his pistol point-blank at the partisan, and would have -slain him then and there, but at that moment, why I need not say, my -horse stumbled and fell almost with his full weight against Belfort's. -His pistol was knocked from his hand, and he barely kept his seat in his -saddle. - -"Damnation!" he roared. "What are--" and the rest of his words were lost -in the din. - -Just then the duel between the two leaders ended. Blake was unable to -cope with his larger and more powerful antagonist, and his blade was -dashed from his hand. Wildfoot might have shorn his head from his -shoulders with one blow of his great sabre. Instead, he thrust the -weapon into his belt, seized Blake by both shoulders, and hurled him to -the earth, where the stricken man lay, prone and still. - -Daunted by the fall of their leader, the British line bent and broke, -and the men fled towards the cover of the forest. My heart sickened at -the plight of Blake, enemy though he was. - -The Americans, much to the surprise of the British, did not pursue, but -drew off towards cover. Blake lay between the two detachments, his face -almost concealed in the grass. I could not leave him there while life -might still be in his body, to be trampled to pieces in the next charge -of the horsemen, and driven by a sudden impulse, I sprang from my -saddle, ran forward, and seized him by the shoulders, just as the great -ranger whirled his horse and galloped by me. He had his sabre in his -hand again, and I thought he was going to cut me down, as he might -easily have done, but, to my unutterable surprise and relief, he made no -motion to strike. Instead he said to me, as he galloped by,-- - -"You are a brave man, but you are a fool, a most wondrous fool!" - -I stayed not to reflect wherein I was a most wondrous fool, but, with a -strength which was a creation of the emergency and the excitement, I ran -back towards the British lines, dragging poor Blake after me. Every -moment I expected to feel an American bullet in my back, but none came, -nor did I hear the sound of shots. - -Then, after a space of time which it seemed to me would never come to an -end, I reached the trees, and strong hands seized both Blake and me, -dragging us under cover. - - - - -CHAPTER FIVE--_The Work of Wildfoot_ - - -I remained for a minute or two in a stupor, superinduced by the -excitement of the fight and my great physical exertions. From this I was -aroused by Barton, who was now in command, Blake being disabled. - -"It was gallantly done, Lieutenant Melville," he said. "You have saved -our captain's life." - -"Are you sure he is still living?" I asked. - -"He is stunned by the shock he received when that great rebel hurled him -to the ground," said Barton, "but he will be well enough in time." - -"You have saved more lives than Blake's," whispered Marcel, as Barton -turned. "You have saved yours and mine, for that villain Belfort -suspected that you threw your horse purposely against his. In face of -this he dare not declare his suspicions." - -"By the way," resumed Marcel, a moment later, "you might ask our haughty -Norman noble over there if the rebel dogs can fight." - -I did not ask the question, though, had time and place been otherwise, -it would have pleased me much to do so. - -All the troopers had dismounted and were putting themselves in posture -of defence behind the rocks, hillocks, and trees. Barton expected -another attack upon the instant, but it was not made. In fact, when he -examined with his field-glass the wood into which Wildfoot and his men -had withdrawn, he announced that he could see naught of them. - -"I see nothing among those trees over there," he said; "not a horse, not -a man. Verily the fellows have learned to perfection the art of hiding -themselves. By St. George, they need it in their dealings with us!" - -It was sometimes the temper of the British in our country to boast and -to show arrogance even when sore outwitted and outfought by us, and then -to wonder why we did not love them. Perhaps this fault was not theirs, -exclusively. - -"Likely enough this silence is some new trick," said Belfort, "some -scheme to draw us into another ambush." - -"I suspect that you speak the truth," replied Barton. "Stand close, men. -We have suffered too much already to risk another trap." - -The men were quite willing to obey his order and stand close. Thus we -waited. Blake revived by and by, and a careful examination showed that -he had no bones broken, though he was sore in every muscle and still -somewhat dazed in mind. But he was urgent in entreating his officers not -to take excessive risks. - -"I fancy that we have nothing to do but to wait here," said Barton to -him, "for the rebels will of a surety attack us again very soon." - -But in this Barton was mistaken, for the Americans seemed to have gone -away. We waited a full hour, and then, as they gave no evidence of -being anywhere near us, a small scouting-party was sent out, which -presently returned with word that they were in truth gone, and that the -woods were empty. - -"They feared to attack us when we were on our guard," said Barton, -triumphantly. "There is naught for us to do now but to go and escort the -wagon-train back to the city." - -We gathered up the wounded and rode over the ridge in search of the -wagon-train. We found with ease the tracks of the wheels and followed -them towards the city, expecting to overtake the wagons. Presently, as -we turned around a hill, we rode almost full tilt into three or four of -them lying upon the ground, too much shattered and broken ever to be of -use again. - -In his surprise Barton reined back his horse against mine, for I rode -just behind him. - -"What is this?" he exclaimed. - -"It seems that we have the wagon-train, or what is left of it," said -Marcel. "There is a placard; it may inform us." - -A pine board was stuck in a conspicuous place upon one of the wagons, -and some words had been written upon it with a piece of charcoal. We -rode forward and read,-- - - "To Sir William Howe or His Representative. - For the Wagons and their Contents - We Are Much Indebted - As we were Hungry - And You Have Fed Us. - We Give You Leave to Take Repayment - At Such Time and Place - As You May Choose. - - "WILLIAM WILDFOOT." - -Barton swore in his rage. It was easy enough to see now why the patriots -had withdrawn after the first attack. The provision-train was more -valuable than arms or prisoners to the American army, and, barring the -broken wagons, Wildfoot and his men had carried off everything. Nor were -the British in any trim to pursue, a business at which, most like, they -would have had their faces slapped. - -Barton swore with a force and fluency that I have seldom heard -surpassed, and Blake said with a melancholy smile,-- - -"It is well that I have this broken head to offer as some sort of an -excuse, or I think it would go hard with me." - -He spoke truly, for, though his expedition had been a most dire failure, -his own condition was proof that he had done valiant duty. - -The British gathered up their wounded again and began their march to the -city. The country glowed in the brilliant sunshine of a summer -afternoon, but I was in no mood to enjoy its beauty now. Our column -marched mournfully along, as sad as a funeral procession. Even though -the victory had gone where I wished it to go, yet there were others -before my eyes, and I felt sorrow for them in their wounds and defeat. - -When we approached Philadelphia, some people on horseback turned and -galloped towards us. As they came nearer, I saw that two of them were -women, one of whom I recognized as Miss Desmond. They were accompanied -by two British officers whom I had seen at the banquet, Colonel Ingram -and Major Parsons. The other young woman I learned afterwards was the -daughter of a rich Tory of Philadelphia. - -Belfort rode forward to meet them, and Marcel and I followed, though at -a somewhat slacker pace. We could take this privilege, as we were now -within the lines. I judged that the officers and the ladies had been -taking a ride for the sake of the air and the exercise, and such proved -to be the case. - -"Here comes Blake's expedition," exclaimed Ingram, as they rode up, "and -I see wounded men. Verily I believe we have taken the rebel Wildfoot at -last." - -"Is it true, Lieutenant Belfort?" asked Miss Desmond. "Has the robber -Wildfoot been taken?" - -Belfort was thrown into a state of embarrassment by this question, to -which he knew he must return an unwelcome answer; and he hesitated, -pulling uneasily at his bridle-rein. But Marcel, the readiness of whose -wit was equalled only by his lack of a sense of responsibility, spoke -up. - -"I fear, Miss Desmond," he said, "that we have but sad news. The wounded -men you see are not rebels, but our own. As for Mr. Wildfoot the robber, -we suspect that he has had fine entertainment at our expense. Of a -certainty he gave us all the sport we wanted." - -"It was a trick, a dastard American trick!" exclaimed Belfort. "They -gave us no chance." - -"Then you have not captured this Wildfoot?" asked Miss Desmond. - -"No," replied Marcel. "He came much nearer to capturing us, and in -addition he has taken off our wagon-train, provisions, bullocks, -drivers, and all, which I dare say will be welcome food to the -Americans, drivers included, for we hear that they are starving." - -"They did not stay to fight us to the end," broke in Belfort, "but ran -away with the spoil." - -"No doubt they had obtained all they wanted," said Miss Desmond, dryly. -"Do not forget, Lieutenant Belfort, that, however misguided my -countrymen may be, they are able to meet anybody in battle, Englishmen -not excepted." - -"For you to say anything makes it true," said Belfort. - -"You should also take note," said Marcel, "that Miss Desmond is more -chivalrous than some other opponents of the Americans." - -"I do not take your full meaning," said Belfort. - -"It is easy enough to understand it," said Marcel. "Miss Desmond gives -to our enemies the credit for the bravery and skill which they have -shown so plainly that they possess." - -"I think you have taken a very long journey for strange purposes," said -Belfort, "if you have come all the way from England to defend the rebels -and to insult the officers of the king." - -A fierce quarrel between them might have occurred then, for it was -breeding fast, but Miss Desmond interfered. - -"If you say any more upon this subject, gentlemen," she said, "I shall -not speak to either of you again." - -"Where no other penalty might prevent us, Miss Desmond," said Marcel, -with a low bow, "that of a surety will." - -Marcel was a graceless scamp, but I always envied his skill at saying -things which fitted the matter in hand. - -Our shot-riddled party had now come up, and while the colonel and the -major were receiving the full story from Barton, I found myself for a -few moments the only attendant upon Miss Desmond. - -"Since I can now do it without risk of sudden death, our friend -Lieutenant Belfort being absent, I assure you again that your countrymen -showed great bravery and military skill in our action with them," I -said. - -"The appearance of your column," she replied, looking pityingly at the -wounded soldiers, "is proof that you came off none too well." - -"It would be better," I said, "to avow the full truth, that we were -sadly beaten." - -"Lieutenant Melville," she said, "why are you so quick in the defence -and even the praise of the rebels? Such is not the custom of most of the -British officers. It seems strange to me." - -"Does it seem more strange," I asked, "than the fact that you, an -American, espouse the cause of the British?" - -The question appeared to cause her some embarrassment. Her lip -quivered, and an unusual though very becoming redness came into her -face. But in a moment she recovered her self-possession. - -"If you had been born an American, Lieutenant Melville," she asked, -"would you have fought with the Americans?" - -"The question is unfair," I answered hastily. - -"Then let the subject be changed," she said; and changed it was. In a -few more minutes we entered the city, where the news we brought, and the -abundant evidence of its truth that we likewise brought with us, carried -much disturbance, and I may also add joy too, for there were many good -and loyal patriots among the civilians of Philadelphia, and some who -feared not to show their feelings in the face of the whole British army. - -My rescue of Blake, more the result of impulse than of resolution, came -in for much praise, which I would rather not have had, and of which I -was in secret not a little ashamed. But there was naught for me to do -but to receive it with a good grace, in which effort I was much aided by -the knowledge that the incident formed a coat of armor against any -suspicions that Belfort might have formed. - -"Well, Lieutenant Melville," said Marcel, as we were returning to our -quarters, "you have distinguished yourself to-day and established -yourself in the esteem of your fellow-Britons." - -"And you," I said, "have almost quarrelled with one of these same -Britons, who hates us both already and would be glad to see us hanged." - -"My chief regret," replied Marcel, "is that it was not a quarrel in -fact. It would be the pleasantest task of my life to teach our haughty -Norman nobleman a lesson in manners." - -"Such lessons might prove to be very dangerous to us just now," I -remarked. - -"This one would be worth all the risk," replied he. - -I saw that he was obstinate upon the point, and so I said no more about -it. - - - - -CHAPTER SIX--_A Cousin from England_ - - -By the time we regained our quarters that afternoon I was feeling -decidedly serious. In adopting the wild suggestion of Marcel and riding -into Philadelphia in British red, I had never expected such a -complication as this. We were to do our work quickly, ride away and be -with our own again, in true colors. But the inch had become a yard, and -here we were, involved already in a perfect network of circumstances. -Some one who knew the real Melville and Montague might arrive at any -moment, and then what would become of us? Walking on bayonet points may -be well enough as a novelty, for a moment or two, but as a regular thing -I prefer solid ground. - -I know that I looked exceedingly glum, but Marcel's face was careless -and gay. In truth the situation seemed to delight him. - -"Marcel!" I exclaimed, "why did the Lord create such a rattle-brained, -South-Carolina, Irish-French American as you?" - -"Probably he did it to ease his mind after creating you," he replied, -and continued humming a dance air. His carelessness and apparent -disregard of consequences annoyed me, but I remained silent. - -"If I were you, Bob," he said presently, "I'd leave to old man Atlas the -task of carrying the earth on his back. He's been doing it a long time -and knows his business. A beginner like you might miscalculate the -weight, and think what a terrible smash up we'd have then! Moreover, I -don't see what we have to worry about!" - -"I don't see what we don't have to worry about!" I replied. - -"I'm sure that I have nothing," he continued calmly. "I know of no young -man who is better placed than my own humble self. Behold me, the -Honorable Charles Montague, heir to the noble estate of Bridgewater Hall -in England, a captain in the finest army on the planet, comfortably -quartered in the good city of Philadelphia, which is full of gallant men -and handsome women. I already have friends here in abundance, and a -reputation, too, that is not so bad. I am satisfied, and I recommend -you, Lieutenant Melville, who are equally well situated, to accept your -blessings and cease these untimely laments. - - 'The lovely Thais sits beside thee. - Take the goods the Gods provide thee!'" - -He looked at me with such an air of satisfaction and conceit that I was -compelled to laugh. Of course that was an end of all attempts to argue -with Phil Marcel, and nothing was left to me but resignation. - -"You don't complain of your company, do you?" he asked. - -"I do not," I replied; "the English officers are a jolly lot,--a fine -set, I will say,--if they are our enemies; and it's a pity we have to -fight them,--all except Belfort, who I know does not like us and who I -believe suspects us." - -Marcel looked grave for a moment. - -"Yes, Belfort's the possible thorn in our side," he said; "but your -saving Blake as I have told you once before has been a great -advertisement for us. You did that well, Bob, very well for you, though -not as gracefully as I would have done it if the chance had been mine. -Can you tell why it is, Bob, that I always have the merit and you always -have the luck?" - -"Perhaps it's because, if you had both, your conceit would set the -Delaware on fire." - -Catron and Vivian came in, a half-hour later, and urged us to spend the -evening at the former's quarters, where we would meet all the men whom -we knew, for a good time. They would accept no excuse. Marcel's -spontaneous wit and gayety made him a favorite wherever he went, and I -was a temporary hero through that happy chance of the Blake affair, and -so we were in demand. Secretly I was not unwilling, and Marcel certainly -was not. This lively, luxurious, and careless life, this companionship -of young men who knew all the ways and gossip and pleasant manners of -the great world, took instant hold of me, and I felt its charm -powerfully. Having gone so far, it seemed to me the best thing we could -now do was to do as those around us did, until our own opportunity came. - -I do not speak of the luxurious and unmilitary life of the British in -Philadelphia that season in any spirit of criticism, or with a desire to -call special attention to it as something extraordinary. If the case -had been reversed, the American army probably would have done the same -thing. Nearly all the English generals regarded the rebellion as dead or -dying, and many Americans were of the same opinion. Then why not let it -die without being helped on by slaughter? Moreover, many of the British -officers had no feeling of personal hostility whatever towards us, and -all of us know, or ought to know, and remember with gratitude, that a -powerful party in England defended us to the end. - -Marcel looked at me with his suggestive smile and drooping of the eyelid -when Catron and Vivian had gone. - -"It seems to me that we have found favor at court," he said, "and must -do as the king and courtiers do. Come, Bob, let's float with the -stream." - -Vivian, a young officer named Conant, and Vincent Moore, an Irish -lieutenant, came for us about eight o'clock in the evening, and on the -way to Catron's quarters we stopped a few moments to enjoy the fresh -air. The day had been hot, and all of us had felt it. - -"I don't think the Lord treated this country fairly in the matter of -climate," said Vivian. "He gave it too much cold in winter and too much -heat in summer." - -"Oh, that's nothing," said Marcel; "you'll soon grow used to these hot -summers." - -"Why, what do you know about them?" asked Moore, quick as lightning, -"when you've been here less than a week." - -I almost groaned at my comrade's thoughtless remark, and my heart paused -for a long time over its next beat. But Marcel was as calm as the -sphinx. - -"Why shouldn't I know a great deal about the heat here?" he replied. -"Did I not make my entry into Philadelphia at the rifle muzzles of a lot -of American rascals? Did they not make it warm enough for me then to -become an expert on the subject of heat? Don't you think that I can -endure any temperature after that?" - -"You certainly came in a hurry," said Moore, "but you have redeemed -yourselves as quickly as if you were Irishmen, and, after all, what a -pity you were not born Irishmen!" - -"Ireland is always unfortunate; she misses everything good," said -Marcel, briefly. - -The next instant we met Belfort, and I was devoutly thankful that he had -not been present when Marcel made his remark about our hot summers. Its -suggestive nature would not have been swept so quickly from his mind as -it had been swept from the minds of the others. - -But Belfort was in a good humor and was courteous, even cordial, to us. -He complimented us on our share in the skirmish, and to me especially he -hoped that further honors would soon come. Just as we reached Catron's -door he turned to Marcel and said,-- - -"I've a pleasant bit of news for you, Captain Montague. Your cousin -Harding--Sir John Harding's son, you know--arrived to-day on a frigate -that came up the Delaware, and no doubt he will be as glad to see you -as you will be to see him." - -I was thankful for the darkness, as I know I turned pale. Already I felt -piercing me those bayonet points on which we had been dancing so -recklessly. Of course, this cousin arriving in such untimely fashion -would expose us. Confound him! Why had not a merciful Providence wrecked -his ship? - -"I hope that I shall meet him soon, to-morrow or perhaps the next day, -when he has fully recovered from the long journey," said Marcel. - -"There will be no such wait as that," replied Belfort, cheerfully. "He -will be here to-night, to meet all of us. Catron invited him, and he was -glad to come. I saw him this afternoon, and as he is a good sailor, he -needed no rest." - -"So much the better," said Marcel, with unbroken calm. "We can initiate -him to-night into the mysteries of Philadelphia. But all of our family -take readily to new countries." - -We were in the anteroom now, and I thought it best to imitate Marcel's -seeming unconcern. It was impossible to withdraw, and it was more -dignified to preserve a bold manner to the last. - -A servant opened the door for us, and we passed into the rooms where the -others were gathered. I was blinded for a moment by the lights, but when -my eyes cleared I looked eagerly about me. I knew every man present, and -curiously enough the knowledge gave me a sense of relief. - -"I do not see my cousin," said Marcel, as we returned our greetings. -"Belfort told us that he would be here." - -"He will come in half an hour," replied Catron. "Remember that he landed -from the ship only this afternoon, and we are not usually in a -break-neck hurry to see cousins, unless they be of the other sex, and -very fair." - -We drank wine, and then began to play cards,--whist, picquet, and vingt -et un. Belfort was at our table, and apparently he sought to make -himself most agreeable. As it was unusual in one of his haughty and -arrogant temper, it deceived completely all except Marcel and myself. -But we understood him. We knew that he was expecting some great blow to -fall upon us, and that his good humor arose wholly from the hope and -expectation. What he suspected of us--whether he believed us to be in -false attire, or merely considered us enemies because I had been so bold -as to admire Miss Desmond, the lady of his choice--I could not say. Yet -he undoubtedly expected us to be knocked over by the arrival of this -unexpected and unknown cousin of Marcel's, and it was equally sure that -he hated us both. - -He began to talk presently of Harding,--Rupert Harding he called him; -and though he pretended to have eyes only for his cards, I believed that -he was covertly watching our faces. Marcel thought to lead him to a -pleasanter subject, but he would not follow, and the life, career, and -ambitions of Rupert Harding seemed to have become a weight upon his -mind, of which he must talk. Chills, each colder than its predecessor, -raced up and down my backbone, but my face looked calm, and I was proud -that I could keep it so. - -Marcel, unable to draw Belfort away from Rupert Harding, began by and by -to show an interest in the subject and to talk of it as volubly as -Belfort himself. But I noticed that nearly everything he said was an -indirect question, and I noticed, too, that he was steadily drawing from -Belfort a full history of this troublesome young man, for the arrival of -whom we were now looking every moment. - -Marcel dropped a card presently, and when he leaned over to pick it up, -he whispered,-- - -"You are keeping a splendid face, old comrade. Let it never be said that -we flinched." - -A certain spirit of recklessness now took possession of me. We were past -all helping, we had suffered the torments of anticipated detection, and -having paid the penalty, we might endure the short shrift that was left -to us. I laughed with the loudest and grew reckless with the cards. Luck -having deserted me at all other points, now, as an atonement, made me a -favorite at the gaming-table, and I won rapidly. The arrival of Harding -was long delayed, and I hoped it would be further postponed, at least -long enough for me to win ten more pounds. Then my ambition would be -satisfied. - -"It has been a long time since you have seen Harding, has it not?" asked -Belfort of Marcel. - -By pure chance all the players happened to be quiet then, but it seemed -as if they were silent merely to hear his answer. - -"It has been such a while since I have held a good hand of cards," -replied Marcel, with a comic gesture of despair, "that my mind can hold -no other measurements of time." - -"Don't be downcast, Montague," said Catron, laughing; "your luck will -change if you only play long enough." - -"Unless the bottom of my pocket is reached first," said Marcel, with -another rueful face. - -Only he and I knew how little was in that pocket. - -"Why is that cousin of mine such a laggard?" asked Marcel, presently. -"We have been at the cards nearly an hour and he has not come." - -"He will be here," said Belfort. "Does he play a good game?" - -"If he doesn't play better than I do," replied Marcel, "he ought to be -banished forever from such good company as this." - -"Come, come, Montague!" said Catron, "a soldier like you, who can look -into the angry face of an enemy, should show more courage before the -painted face of a card." - -I saw that no suspicion had entered the mind of any save Belfort, and he -pressed his lips together a little in his anger at the way in which his -questions were turned aside. But he was too wise to make a direct -accusation, for all the others would have taken it as absurd, and would -have credited his feelings immediately to the jealousy which he had -shown of me. - -The door opened, and a tall young man of our own age in the uniform of a -British officer entered, and stood for a moment looking at us. His face -was unknown to me, and this I felt sure must be Marcel's cursed cousin -Rupert. I saw Marcel's lip moving as if he would greet the stranger but -he remained silent, and I, resolving to keep a bold face throughout, -played the card that I held in my hand. - -"You are late, Richmond," said Catron, "but your welcome is the greater. -There are some present whom you do not know. Come, let me introduce you. -This is Lieutenant Moore, and this is Captain Montague, and this, -Lieutenant Melville; the last two just arrived from England, and of -whose adventures you perhaps have heard. Gentlemen, Lieutenant Henry -Richmond of Pennsylvania, one of his Majesty's most loyal and gallant -officers." - -So it was not the cousin after all, but a Tory, and my heart sprang up -with a strange sense of relief. A place was made for him at one of the -tables, and the game, or rather games, went on. - -"It is warm to-night," said Belfort to me. He called one of the -servants, who opened another window. With Marcel's blunder fresh before -me, I was not likely to repeat it, and I continued to play the cards in -silence. - -"Do you not regard the insurrection as dead?" he asked. - -"I have been too short a time in America," I replied in a judicial tone, -"to be an authority, but I should say no." - -"What do they think at home?" he asked. - -"Some one way and some another," I replied. "Fox and Burke and their -followers think, or pretend to think, that the rebels will yet win, and -the loyal servants of the king, who are in the great majority, God bless -him! think that if the insurrection is not dead it soon will be. But why -speak of politics to-night, Lieutenant Belfort, when we are here for -pleasure?" - -I was afraid that he would lead me into treacherous fields. He listened, -and then turned back to the subject of Harding. - -"He is unusually late," he said, "but I suppose that Captain Montague -can stand it." - -"Undoubtedly," I replied. "Cousins are usually superfluous, any way." - -I had made up my mind that we would maintain the illusion until the -actual exposure and my nerves had become steady. - -The door opened once more, and another young man entered. His features -were unmistakably English. He looked around with the air of a stranger, -and Marcel and I again were silent, just waiting. - -"Harding!" exclaimed Catron. "You have found us at last. I was afraid -that you had lost your way." - -"So I did," said Harding, "but some one was kind enough to set me on the -right road." - -His eyes went from one to another of us, lingered for a moment on -Marcel, and passed on without the slightest sign of recognition. Then I -noticed that the card I held was wet with the sweat of my hand. Catron -began to introduce us, beginning with Vivian. I believed that Belfort -was watching Marcel and me, but I did not dare to look at him and see. - -"I have a cousin here, have I not?" broke in Harding,--"Charlie Montague -of Yorkshire? At least I was told that I would find him here, and as we -have never seen each other, I am curious to meet him. Strange, isn't it, -that one should have to come to America to meet one's English kin who -live in the next county." - -He laughed a hearty resonant laugh, and a painful weight rolled off my -brain. He had never seen his cousin Montague before! Then he might look -upon his cousin Marcel with safety,--safety to us. My own face remained -impassive, but I saw Belfort's fall a little, and as for Marcel, the -volatile and daring Marcel, he was already metaphorically falling into -his cousin's arms and weeping with joy at the sight of him. Moreover I -knew Marcel well enough to be sure that he could take care of the -conversation and guide it into far-away channels, if Cousin Rupert -wished to lead it upon the subject of their mutual interests and ties in -England. - - - - -CHAPTER SEVEN--_The Quarrel_ - - -Harding was the last arrival, and in his honor the card games were -discontinued for a little, while we talked about home. Marcel justified -my confidence in him; he discoursed so brilliantly upon England that one -would have fancied he knew more about the old country than all the -remainder of us combined. But Marcel has at times a large, generous way, -and he talked wholly of extensive generalities, never condescending to -particulars. This period of conversation was brought to a successful end -by glasses of wine all around, and then we settled again to the more -serious business of cards. Belfort had been very quiet after his failure -with Harding, and he looked both mortified and thoughtful. I was -inclined to the belief that his suspicions about our identity had been -dissipated, and that he would seek a quarrel with at least one of us on -other grounds. - -The game proceeded, and I won steadily. My luck was remarkable. If I -ever succeeded in escaping from Philadelphia with a sound neck, my stay -there was likely to prove of profit. - -The night advanced, but we played on, although it was far past twelve -o'clock, and probably we would have played with equal zest had the -daylight been coming in at the windows. The room was hot and close; but -we paid no attention to such trifles, having eyes only for the cards and -the money, and the shifting chances of the game. My luck held, and the -little heap of shining gold coins gathered at my elbow was growing fast. - -"Evidently the Goddess, fickle to others, favors you," said Belfort, at -last. He regarded me with no pleasant eye. Much of his money had gone to -swell my yellow hoard. Doubtless it seemed to the man that I was -destined always to come in his way, to be to him a sort of evil genius. -I was in an exultant mood, my winnings and my release from the great -fear that had fallen upon me lifting me up, and I had no wish to soothe -him. - -"If the Goddess favors me, it is not for me to criticise her taste," I -replied. - -"No; that can safely be left to others," said Belfort. - -He had been drinking much wine, and while all of us were hot and -flushed, he seemed to have felt the effects of the night, the gaming, -and the liquors more than anybody else. But despite our condition, his -remark created surprise. - -"Pshaw, Belfort, you jest badly!" said Vivian. - -Belfort flushed a deeper red, but did not reply. Neither did I say -anything. I have heard that the card-table is more prolific in quarrels -than any other place in the world, and I saw the need of prudence. I had -concluded that it would be very unwise to quarrel with Belfort, and my -reckless mood abating, I determined not to lead him on. But a chance -remark of Moore's set flame to the fuel again. - -"I would pursue my luck, if I were you, Melville," he said. "Any -Irishman would, and an Englishman ought not to be slack." - -"How?" I asked. - -"In the two accompaniments of cards, war and love. You have shown what -you can do in cards and in a measure in war. Now, to be the complete -gentleman, you must be successful in love." - -"Melville has proved already that he has a correct eye for beauty," said -Vivian. - -"You mean Miss Desmond," said Catron, "but his eye has been neither -quicker nor surer than those of others. There are enough officers at her -feet to make a regiment." - -I was sorry that they had brought up Miss Desmond's name, yet these -young officers meant no disrespect to her. In our time all beautiful -women were discussed by the men over cards and wine, and it was -considered no familiarity, but a compliment. - -"I wish you would not speak so often and with such little excuse of Miss -Desmond," exclaimed Belfort, angrily. - -"Why not?" I asked, replying for Vivian. His manner of appropriating -Miss Desmond, a manner that I had noticed before, was excessively -haughty and presumptuous, and it irritated every nerve in me. - -"If you speak for yourself," he replied, turning a hot face upon me, "it -is because you have known her only a few days and you have assumed an -air which impresses me particularly as being impertinent." - -It seemed as if there could be no end to his arrogance. He even made -himself the sole judge of my manners, dismissing all the others as -incompetent. Yet I was able to control my temper in face of such an -insult in a way that surprised me. - -"Your opinion of impertinence, Mr. Belfort, appears to differ from that -of other people, and I fear you are not an authority on the subject," I -replied, and I think there was no break in my voice, "yet I am willing -to discuss the subject in any fashion you wish until we shall have -reached some sort of a conclusion." - -I knew he was bent upon forcing a quarrel upon me, and I did not see how -I could honorably make further attempts to avoid it. - -"Nonsense!" exclaimed Catron. "You shall not quarrel. I am your host, -and I forbid it. You have both taken too much wine, and the code does -not demand that hot words spoken at three o'clock in the morning shall -breed sparks the next day." - -Now, I had drank very little wine, and Catron knew it, but he included -me in his indictment in order to ease Belfort, and I did not object. I -waited, willing, even after what had been said, that peace should be -made between us, but Belfort shook his head. - -"Lieutenant Melville's words amounted to a challenge," he said, "and I -would deem myself but the small part of a man if I refused it." - -"I have nothing to withdraw," I interrupted. It seemed best to me to -have it out with Belfort. I had been willing to smooth over all -differences with him until he made Mary Desmond the issue between us. -Somehow I could not pass that by, although she might never be anything -to either him or me. Even in that moment when the quarrel was hot upon -me, I wondered at the hold this Tory girl had taken upon my mind,--a -girl whom I had seen but two or three times, and from whom I had -received nothing but haughtiness. - -"So be it, then," said Catron, impatiently, "but I trust that both of -you will permit me to say what I think of you." - -"Certainly! Tell us!" I said. - -"Then I think you are both confounded fools to push a quarrel and cut -each other up with pistol bullets or sword blades when you might dwell -together in peace and friendship. Moreover, you have disturbed the -game." - -"We can go on with the cards," I suggested, "and Lieutenant Belfort and -I will settle our affairs later." - -"Of course," replied Catron. "You cannot fight at night, and we will -meet here to-morrow in the afternoon to arrange for this business that -you and Belfort seem bent on transacting. Meanwhile we will make the -most of the night's remainder." - -A few moments later we were absorbed in the cards, and the subject of -the duel seemed to be banished from the minds of all, save those most -concerned. - -"What do you think of it?" I asked Marcel, when I was first able to -speak to him, unheard by others. - -"It is unfortunate, on the whole, though you are not to blame," he -replied, pursing up his lips. "If you were to run him through with your -sword, his inquisitive tongue would be silenced and his suspicious eyes -shut forever. And yet I would not wish you to do that." - -"Nor I," I said with deep conviction. - -The gray in the east soon grew, and the world slid into the daylight. I -looked at my comrades, and they were all haggard, their features drawn -and great black streaks showing under their eyes. I shoved my gold into -my pockets and said that we must go. - -"And all the rest of us, too," said Moore. "Heavens! suppose that Sir -William should have some active duty for us to-day! What would he think -that we had been doing?" - -His query was certainly pertinent, and the little gathering hastily -dissolved, Marcel bidding his new-found cousin an affectionate -good-night or rather good-morning. - -As Marcel and I were about to pass out of the room, Waters appeared -before us with a hot glass of mixed spirits in either hand. - -"Better drink these before you go," he said. "They will freshen you." - -The presence of this man with his evil eyes and significant glance -coming upon us like an apparition was startling and decidedly -unpleasant. I disliked him almost as much as I did Belfort, and in my -soul I feared him more. I saw that self-same look of smirking -satisfaction on his face, and I trembled not only with anger, but -because I feared that the man possessed our secret and was playing with -us for his own malicious sport. However we accepted his invitation and -drank. - -"When do you fight Lieutenant Belfort?" he asked, looking me straight in -the eye as I handed back to him the empty glass. - -"Is it any business of yours?" I said, flushing with anger. - -"No, but I wondered why you and Lieutenant Belfort were so eager to -quarrel," he replied, his eyes showing no fear of me. - -"What damned impertinence is this!" broke out Marcel. "How dare you, a -servant, speak in such a manner?" - -"I beg your pardon, sir, I spoke hastily, I meant no harm," said the -man, suddenly becoming humble, as if frightened by Marcel's heat. - -"Then see that hereafter your actions conform better with your -intentions," continued Marcel, as we passed out. - -"That man is more to be feared than Belfort," I said a little later, -speaking the thought that was in my mind. - -"Yes, I think so, too," replied Marcel. "Confound him! Those eyes of his -look me through, and I have the fancy that he is all the time laughing -at us." - -But Marcel's ill humor and suspicion lasted less than half a hour, and -he was cheerfully humming a love song when he finally jumped into bed. - - - - -CHAPTER EIGHT--_A File of Prisoners_ - - -We rose at noon the next day, and after the fashion of those times -strolled toward the centre of the city to meet our friends and hear -whatever news might chance to be going. Twenty-four hours earlier I -would have escaped from Philadelphia if possible, but now I felt that my -engagement with Belfort held me there. It was singular how circumstances -combined to prevent our flight. "_Our_ flight," I said, and yet I did -not know that Marcel would go with me even if I fled. "_My_ flight," I -should say, and that, too, was impossible until I met Belfort. Then? -Suppose I should slay him! - -We met Vivian and Moore looking as fresh as if they had slept all the -preceding night instead of playing cards, which, though perhaps not -surprising in an Irishman, is somewhat beyond the power of most other -people. A few moments later we met Belfort also, and he and I saluted -gravely as became men who were to meet in another fashion soon. - -"Come and see the American prisoners," said Moore. "The light cavalry -took more than twenty yesterday, and they are just passing down the -street to the prison, where I suspect that they will get better fare, -bad as it is, than they have had for a long time." - -The prisoners filed past, a lean and ragged band, and my heart was -filled with sympathy. - -"What a deuced shame that we should have to fight them!" said Moore. -"Why couldn't they go back to their farms like peaceable men and obey -King George like the loyal subjects they ought to be? That would end the -trouble at once, and how simple! What a logician I am!" - -"But the Irish don't obey King George," I said, "and they are his -subjects too." - -"That's different," rejoined Moore, quickly. "The Irish don't obey -anybody, and never will." - -Marcel suddenly pulled my arm, and when I looked around at him his face -was pale. The fourth man in the line of prisoners was gazing intently at -us, and his eyes expressed two emotions,--first recognition and then -deep, bitter hatred. All soldiers detest traitors, and this man was one -of the four whom Sergeant Pritchard had commanded. He knew us well, as -we stood there in the gay uniforms of the enemy, and while he could not -divine what we intended when we rode away in our borrowed plumage, he -could believe but one thing now. His lips moved as if he were about to -speak and denounce us; but I shook my head, gave him the most -significant look I could, and then putting my hand on Marcel's shoulder -to indicate clearly that I was speaking to him, said in a loud voice,-- - -"Captain Montague, look at the fourth man in the line; does he not look -wonderfully like one of the villains who chased us into the city?" - -Thank heaven the man--Alloway was his name--was as quick as a flash. He -heard me call Marcel Montague, and everything else may have been obscure -to him, but he knew that we were not there under our right names, and -that that probably meant something else other than treason. He dropped -his head, looked no more at us, and walked on as impassive as the rest. - -Two others had seen and taken notice, the two whom we dreaded most. They -were Belfort and the scoundrel Waters, whom I now for the first time saw -standing behind us, his red head towering above those around him. He -seemed to have made it his special business to follow Marcel and me and -to spy upon our doings. That hateful look of cunning was in his eyes, -while Belfort's blazed with triumph. But both quickly dismissed all -unusual expression, and Belfort was silent until the last man in the -file had passed. Then he said,-- - -"I propose that we go to the prison and talk to those men. They are -broken down and starving, and would gladly tell their woes to those who -bring them food. We may acquire wonderful information concerning Mr. -Washington and his army." - -"It would be but a useless annoyance of prisoners," I said, seeing the -drift of his mind. - -"Not so," he replied. "It is a worthy object and is in the service of -the king. I can easily get the necessary permission from the commandant -of the prison." - -Unluckily enough, Moore was greatly taken with the idea, and Vivian too -liked it. They were all for talking with the prisoners, and Marcel and I -were compelled to yield. We could have refused to go, but that, I felt -sure, would be our undoing. I preferred that the questions Belfort -wished to ask should be asked in our presence. - -Belfort called Waters and sent him to the commandant with a request for -the necessary permission, and we proceeded with our stroll until his -return. - -"This man Belfort is bound to catch us, if not by one method then by -another," whispered Marcel to me. "You should not have looked with such -admiring eyes upon the lady whom he has chosen for his own." - -"But she has not chosen him, so far as you know," I replied, "and Mr. -Belfort is not to be the master of my inclinations." - -"Oh, well, don't pick a quarrel with me about it," he replied, with a -wry face and then a smile. He did not seem to feel any apprehension, and -I wondered if fear for the future was ever a quality that entered into -his mental constitution. I had begun to believe that it did not, and -that he was not to be held accountable for it. - -Belfort burst suddenly into smiles and began to bow with great energy. -Miss Desmond was approaching, and with her was Miss Rankin, a Tory's -daughter. Miss Desmond was very simply dressed in light gray, and wore a -single pink rose in her corsage. Her bearing was full of dignity, and -she looked very beautiful, but, as always, cold and distant. We began to -speak of the usual topics, for in our little pent-up city news soon -became common; but at that moment Waters arrived with the necessary -permission. - -"The prisoners are sulky, sir," said Waters, with a respectful bow to -Belfort, "and are not disposed to talk to anybody, but the commandant -says that you may try." - -I wondered if he had some sort of an understanding with Belfort. It did -not seem wholly unlikely. - -"At any rate it will be a novelty to talk to them," said Belfort, "and -to see the inside of a prison, knowing that you can leave it whenever -you wish. But I think that at least one of them will talk." - -It was impossible for Marcel or me to mistake the significance of his -last sentence or his intentions. Nothing else could account for this -sudden desire to visit the prisoners, which looked to an ordinary -observer like the freak of some one who had more time than occupation. -Yet I could see purpose, determined purpose, in it. - -"We are going to ask some American prisoners, just taken, why they are -so foolish and wicked as to fight against the king," said Belfort, -looking at Miss Desmond. "Will you not, Miss Desmond, and you, Miss -Rankin, go with us and hear what they have to say? I assure you that it -will be both interesting and instructive." - -The man's effrontery amazed me, but I fathomed the depth of his malice -and his proposed method. His defeat the night before had lulled his -suspicions, but the look and manner of the prisoners had caused them to -flame afresh. Now he hoped to expose us in the presence of our friends, -and above all in the presence of Miss Desmond. Fortune seemed at last to -have put all the chances in his favor. - -"Oh, do let's go!" spoke up Miss Rankin, a young woman whose mind was -not too important. "I have never been in a prison, and I should like to -see how they live there." - -"Believe me it is not a joyous sight, Miss Rankin," I said, hoping to -keep the ladies away. - -"Are you fully acquainted with it?" asked Belfort, in a low voice. - -"Not as well, perhaps, as some others ought to be," I said in the same -tone. - -"Come, Miss Desmond, will you not go?" repeated Belfort. "It will be a -valuable experience, one worth remembering." - -Her eyes wandered over us, but I could not read the expression in them. -They dwelt for a moment on Waters, as if wondering why a man of his -condition was with us; and then she said that she would go, a flush of -interest showing in her face. So we walked together toward the city -prison, Belfort and Vivian escorting Miss Desmond, while the others -devoted themselves to Miss Rankin. Marcel and I dropped a little behind. - -"Phil," I said, "the gauntlet is nicely prepared for us." - -"But we may run it," he replied cheerfully. "There's always a chance." - -We were soon at the prison, and the commandant made no difficulties. In -truth, Belfort seemed to have much influence with him, and five minutes -later we were in the presence of the new prisoners, all of whom sat in -one room where the dirt and cobwebs had gathered against the low -ceiling, and where the light came dimly in at the narrow and -iron-barred window. It was a gloomy place and its influence was visible -at once upon us all. Even Miss Rankin ceased her chatter. The prisoners -had just taken their food, and were making themselves as comfortable as -they could, some upon two old wooden benches against the stone wall and -some upon the floor. It suddenly occurred to me that they would send us -here before they hung us, and the idea was not cheerful. - -I wondered what the prisoners thought of us and our presence there, but -they showed no curiosity. The man Alloway was sitting on the floor in a -slouching attitude and took no notice. - -"Here sit up, you!" exclaimed Waters, taking him roughly by the -shoulders and jerking him up. "Do you not see that there are ladies -present?" - -"I can't imagine that they have come to this place for bright company," -said Alloway, grimly. - -Then Belfort began to talk to one of the men, purposely delaying his -examination of Alloway as if he would linger over a choice morsel. I -paid little attention to his questions, which seemed to elicit no -satisfactory answer, but kept my eyes on Miss Desmond. Could a woman, -young and beautiful, a Tory even, be without sympathy in the presence of -her unfortunate countrymen, locked thus in a prison for no crime save -fighting in defence of their own land, if that can be called a crime? -Could she have so little heart? I did not believe it. In spite of her -coldness and pride there was some charm about her which had drawn me to -her, and I would not believe that a woman without heart could influence -me so. Therefore I watched her closely, and at last I saw the light -appear in the impassive eyes. When the others were not looking, she bent -over the youngest of the prisoners and slipped something in his hand. I -saw the flash of the golden guinea and the look of deep human feeling, -and I knew that my lady had a heart. But she said nothing either to the -prisoners or to us, and I believed that in her Tory soul she still -condemned while for the moment she pitied. - -I wished to speak to the man Alloway, to give him some hint, while -Belfort was examining the others but I could find no opportunity. Always -Belfort was watching me out of the corner of his eye, and Waters had the -gaze of both eyes, full and square, upon me and Marcel. It was -impossible for either of us to speak to Alloway without being seen or -heard. - -"Suppose we try this hulking fellow here, colonel," said Belfort to the -commandant, pointing to Alloway. - -"Would you like to ask him some questions, Captain Montague?" said -Belfort, politely, to Marcel. - -"No," replied Marcel, "it is no part of a British officer's duty." - -Belfort flushed at the reply, and so did the commandant, who was an -accessory to this proceeding. I saw that Marcel had made a new enemy. - -"Come, my man, won't you give us some information?" said Belfort to -Alloway. - -Alloway's face settled into a defiant frown, but his eyes met mine once, -and the swift look he gave me was full of curiosity. Nor did I read any -threat there. - -"We are all friends of yours; that is, all of us want to be your -friends," said Belfort. - -"Is that so? Then do your people have a habit of locking up in prison -those of whom you think most?" returned Alloway, ironically. - -"While we are all friends," resumed Belfort, "some of us are perhaps -better friends than others, or better acquaintances. Are you sure there -are not several of us whom you knew before to-day?" - -"Why, what a strange examination, Lieutenant Belfort!" exclaimed Miss -Desmond. Others, too, were looking at him in surprise. Belfort reddened, -but it was not in him to be daunted. - -"I asked for an excellent reason," he said politely to the commandant. -"When these prisoners were passing through the street, this man seemed -to recognize one of us and I wished to know which it was." - -"What of that?" asked the commandant. - -"It may lead to something else that I have in mind," replied Belfort, -with tenacity. - -"Proceed then," said the commandant, wonderingly. - -"Do you not know some one of us?" asked Belfort of Alloway. His face -showed the eagerness with which he put the question. - -"Yes," replied Alloway. - -Perhaps I had no right to expect anything else, but the answer came like -a thunderbolt, and my heart fell. Alloway would betray us, and after all -there was no reason why he should not. - -Belfort's eyes flashed with triumph, and his hopes overran his caution. - -"Who is it? who is it?" he cried. "Is it not he?" and he pointed his -finger straight at me. - -Alloway examined me critically, and then said, "No, I never saw him -before in my life. There's the man I meant!" He pointed at Moore and -continued: "He was a prisoner with us for a while after White Plains, -and I was one of the escort that took him to the British lines when we -exchanged him and others." - -"It's true! It's true!" said Moore. "I remember you very well since you -have spoken of it; and polite you were to me, for which I thank you. -Right sorry am I to see you here." - -It was another release from the hangman's rope, and Belfort was defeated -for the second time. He recognized the fact and fell back, looking at me -in a puzzled and mortified way. I believe he was convinced then that his -suspicions were wrong. Why Alloway denied me I could not guess, for -surely the look from me in the street was not sufficient to disclose -such a complicated situation as ours. But it had happened so, and it was -not for Marcel or me to complain. - -"Have you finished, Lieutenant Belfort?" asked the commandant. "I -understood that something important was to follow these questions or I -would not have consented to such an irregularity." - -"It is a mistake! I was upon the wrong path! I will explain another -time!" said Belfort, hurriedly. - -Marcel tapped his forehead suggestively, and all looked curiously at -Belfort. They seemed to think that there was something in Marcel's idea. -Of course, Belfort might have accused us openly, but he had no proof -whatever, and the chances seemed at least a hundred to one that he would -make himself ridiculous by such a declaration. No, I was not afraid of -that, unless something else to arouse his smouldering suspicions should -occur. - -As we left the prison, Miss Desmond said to me, "I wish to ask -Lieutenant Melville about Staffordshire." - -"Ah, Miss Desmond," spoke up Moore, "if you want to know the truth about -any part of England, you should ask an Irishman." - -So saying, he placed his hand upon his heart and bowed. - -"An Irishman always talks best about the thing of which he knows least," -said Vivian. - -But all walked on, and Miss Desmond and I were the last of the company. -I wondered why she had chosen me thus. There was very little that I -could tell her about Staffordshire, and in truth, it seemed a poor -subject for conversation just then. - -"Lieutenant Melville," she said, "why are you and Lieutenant Belfort to -fight a duel?" - -Her question was so sudden and direct that it startled me. I had not -suspected that she knew of our quarrel. - -"It is because we could not agree upon a point of honor," I said. - -"Do you think that it is a proper business for two of the king's -officers?" she asked. - -"Since you wish me to be frank, I do not," I replied, "but it was -impossible for me to avoid it, and perhaps my antagonist will say the -same concerning himself." - -"Why do you fight?" she asked. Then I knew that she had not heard the -full tale, the cause of our quarrel, and I reflected for a moment while -she looked at me with bright eyes. I felt like a little boy called up -for punishment and seeking excuse. - -"It was over the cards," I said. "There was some talk about the measures -that should be taken against the rebels. Lieutenant Belfort advocated -more severity, I more mildness. I do not think the opinion of either -would have had any influence on the policy of the Government, but that -did not restrain our heat. We quarrelled like cabinet ministers at odds. -There was a blow, I think, a demand for an apology, which was refused; -and what followed is to be left to the seconds, who have not yet been -named." - -"I do not believe you," she said, still holding me with her calm, bright -eyes. - -I felt the hot blood flushing my face, but neither in her tone nor -manner did she condemn me or speak as one who despised a man caught in a -falsehood. Rather she was reproachful. - -"There is some other reason," she said, "and you will not tell it to me, -but I shall not ask you again." - -I was silent, and she resumed,-- - -"Promise me that you will not fight this duel, Lieutenant Melville." - -I was as much surprised at the request as I had been when she asked me -why Belfort and I were to meet. It was my first thought that she was in -fear for him, and I asked with a little malice,-- - -"Do you make the same request of Lieutenant Belfort?" - -When I saw the faint flush of color rising in her face, I was sorry that -I had asked the question. - -"No," she replied, "I would not make such a request of him, although I -have known him longer than I have you." - -I was pleased, greatly pleased; but she reminded me that I had not -answered her question. - -"The challenge has been issued," I said, "and if I withdraw at so late a -moment I should be called a coward. Would you have me bear such a name -in Philadelphia?" - -"No; but is there no other way?" - -"None that I know of." - -A look of sadness replaced the flush on her face. - -"It is a barbarous custom, I think," she said, "and belongs to a -barbarous age. It is merely the better swordsman or marksman who wins, -and not of necessity the better man. It decides no more than the hot -ploughshare of the Middle Ages, and of the two customs I think the trial -by hot iron was the saner." - -I was silent, again not knowing what to answer, and she too said no -more. I believe that at the last, and after weighing my evasions, she -began to guess why Belfort and I had quarrelled. In a few moments we -joined the others, and we bore the ladies company to their houses. -Belfort was silent and moody over his failure, and bade us a brief -adieu. It was ten o'clock then, and soon we were due at Catron's rooms -to arrange for the duel. But before the time had elapsed the man Waters -came to our quarters, his evil eyes peering under his shock of red hair. - -"Confound it," I cried, "your company is an honor that I can well do -without!" - -"I would not intrude," he said, "but I am sent by the -commander-in-chief, Sir William Howe, himself, who wishes you to come at -once to his headquarters." - -I was startled. The detection of our identity, or punishment for -preparing to fight a duel were the ideas that sprang up in my head. But -the first disappeared quickly. If Sir William had discovered who we -were, he would have sent a file of soldiers for both of us, and not an -order to me alone to come to his headquarters. - -"You have no choice but to go," said Marcel, "and if you do not return -in time I will report to Catron what has happened. I will see that -Belfort does not make any charges against you." - - - - -CHAPTER NINE--_With the Commander-in-Chief_ - - -I knew that my honor was safe in Marcel's hands, and I followed Waters -to Sir William Howe, whom I found dictating to his secretary. He gave me -a little nod and said,-- - -"I have sent my aide, Vivian, away on other duty and I wish you to take -his place. You will find a chair there and you can wait." - -I sat down, and he paid no further attention to me for a long time. Then -he relieved the secretary, who looked worn out, and put me in his place. -I write a fair round hand with a goose quill, and Sir William seemed -pleased with my work. The letters were on official business, mostly to -cabinet ministers in London, and to this day I often wonder if the -British archives still contain documents written by that most disloyal -rebel Robert Chester. - -Evidently it was a busy day with Sir William Howe, as we wrote on hour -after hour, long past four o'clock, the time for arranging the duel, -though my work did not keep me from noticing more than once the luxury -of Sir William's quarters, and the abundant proof that this man was made -for a life of easy good-nature and not for stern war. How well the -British served us with most of their generals! I inferred that busy days -such as this were rare with Sir William Howe. - -Orderlies came in with reports and went directly out again. The night -darkened through the windows at last, and supper was brought to us, -which I had the honor of sharing with Sir William. - -It was full ten o'clock when he sat down in a chair and ceased to -dictate, while I opened and shut my cramped fingers to be sure that I -still had over them the power of motion. - -"You are tired, Melville," said Sir William, "and you have honestly -earned your weariness." - -"I hope that I have served you well, Sir William," I replied. I was -thoroughly sincere when I said this. God knows that I had cause only to -like Sir William Howe, and in truth I did like him. I thought of him as -a good man in the wrong place. - -"Yes, you have done well," he said, "but I did not send for you merely -to help me in this work. I wished to break up the plans for that silly -duel that you and Lieutenant Belfort are trying to arrange. Do not -flush; none of your friends have betrayed you. I heard of it through a -proper channel. I could have arrested and punished you both, but I -preferred a milder method. I liked you from the first, Lieutenant -Melville, and I do not wish my young officers to kill one another. You -cannot serve either the king, me, or one another by sharpening your -swords on the bones of your comrades. No protestations, but understand -that I forbid this! Do I wish either you or Lieutenant Belfort to come -to me with British blood on his hands? Is it not bad enough when the -Englishmen of the Old World and the New are cutting one another's -throats?" - -It was a time when silence became me, and in truth no answer was needed. -Sir William seemed to be excited. He walked hurriedly back and forth, -and apparently forgot the lowness of my rank when he continued,-- - -"I have been blamed by a numerous and powerful party in England because -I have not pushed the campaign more vigorously, because I have not used -more severity. I say this to you, a young man, because every one knows -it. A wasted country, burning towns, and slaughtered people do not look -so bad when they are thousands of miles away. But put yourself in my -place, in the place of the general-in-chief. Did I wish to kill the sons -and grandsons of Englishmen? Did I wish to waste this English domain, -greater than England herself? I hoped, when leaving England, that the -quarrel would be made up, that all Englishmen would remain brethren. My -brother and I made offers, and I still hoped, even after the battle of -Long Island and our capture of New York, that the rebels would come back -to us. But they have not, and those who remain loyal, like the rich of -this city and New York, do not seem to know the temper and resources of -their own countrymen who oppose us. How could I fight well with the -torch of peace in one hand and the torch of war in the other? There must -be either peace or war. A country cannot have both at the same time." - -"It is certain," I said, "that if any other country possessed these -colonies it would not have treated them as well as England has done." - -In making that assertion I was thoroughly sincere. While convinced that -we had ample cause for rebellion, I had always felt that the cause would -have been much greater had our mother nation been any other than -England. She ruled us mildly or rather let us rule ourselves until we -grew strong and proud, and then suddenly and against the wishes of many -of her best, sought to give us a master when we had never known one. - -"It is true, or at least I hope so," said Sir William, "but that does -not end the war. How are we to achieve the conquest of a country six or -seven times as large as England, and inhabited by a people of our own -race and spirit? If we beat an army in one place, another appears -elsewhere; if we hold a city, it is merely an island in a sea of rebels, -and we cannot convert the whole thirteen colonies into one huge camp!" - -As I have said before, Sir William seemed much agitated. I noticed a -letter with the royal seal lying upon the table, to which his eyes -frequently turned and which he took in his hand several times, though he -did not reopen it in my presence. I judged that its contents were -unpleasant to him, though I could not guess their nature. That and his -agitation would account for the extraordinary freedom with which he -spoke to me, a comparative stranger. And I was sincerely sorry for him, -knowing his unfitness for the task in which he had failed, and believing -too that he bore my countrymen no ill will. He continued his uneasy walk -for a few minutes, and then sitting down endeavoured to compose -himself. - -"Do not repeat any of the things that I have said to you, Melville; see -that you do not," he said to me; but he added in a lower tone, as if to -himself, "But I know of no good reason why my opinions should not be -heard." - -I assured him that nothing he had said would be repeated by me, and in -truth I had no thought of doing so, even before he gave his caution. - -"Melville," he said, "you are tired and sleepy, and so am I. I shall not -send you to your quarters, but there is a lounge in the anteroom upon -which Vivian sleeps. You may take his place there to-night, and consider -yourself the commander of my guard. Merely see that the sentinels are on -duty at the door and have received proper instructions. Then you may go -to sleep." - -I bade him good-night, found that all was right with the sentinels, and -lay down in my clothes on the lounge. I was worn out with the long work, -but I did not go to sleep. I was compelled to reflect upon the extreme -singularity of my position. I, Robert Chester, a lieutenant in the rebel -army and most loyal to the Congress, was on watch at the door of Sir -William Howe, the British commander-in-chief, as commander of his guard. -And moreover I meant to be faithful to my trust. Upon these points my -conscience gave me no twinge, but it urged with increasing force the -necessity of our speedy flight from Philadelphia. Our errand had been a -fruitless one. Honor called us away and danger hurried us on. Only the -duel with Belfort stood in the way of an attempt to escape. It is true -that Sir William Howe had forbidden the meeting, but I did not feel -that I could withdraw from it despite his command. I was too deeply -involved. - -Shortly after I lay down I heard loud voices, and two men who gave the -countersign passed the sentinel and entered the room where I lay. I had -not put out the light, and I saw their faces distinctly. They were -Hessians, and colonels, as I judged by their uniform. Now I always hated -the sight of a Hessian, and when they told me that they wished to see -Sir William Howe on important business, I examined them long and -critically, from their flushed faces down to their great jackboots, -before I condescended to answer. - -"Don't you hear us?" exclaimed the younger with an oath and in bad -English. "We wish to see Sir William Howe!" - -"Yes, I hear you," I said, "but I do not know that Sir William wishes to -see you." - -"He himself is to be the judge of that," replied the elder, "and do you -tell him that we are here." - -Their faces were sure proof that both men had been drinking, but -evidently the potations of the younger had been the deeper. Otherwise -even a Hessian would scarcely have dared to be so violent in manner. I -told them that Sir William probably had retired, and on no account could -they disturb him. They insisted in angry tones, but I would have stood -by my refusal had not Sir William himself, who had heard the -altercation, appeared, fully dressed, at the door, and bade them enter. -I was about to retire, but Sir William signed to me to stay, and I sat -down in a chair near the window. - -It was merely a matter concerning the Hessian troops,--a claim of the -colonels that they had received an over-share of danger and an -under-share of rations, while the British had been petted; and I would -not put down the narration of it here had it not produced an event that -advanced me still further in the good graces of Sir William. - -Hessian soldiers in those days even ordinarily had but few manners, but -when in liquor none at all. They seemed to presume, too, upon the widely -reported fact that Sir William Howe was fast losing credit with his -government and might be supplanted at any time. They were accusing, even -violent in their claims; and the red flush appeared more than once upon -the swarthy skin of Sir William's face. I wondered how he could restrain -his anger, but he was essentially self-restrained, and though he was -their commander he did not reply to them in kind. At last the younger -man, Schwarzfelder was his name, denied outright and in an insulting -manner some statement made by Sir William, and I rose at once. Sir -William's eye met mine, and his look was in the affirmative. I took the -Hessian colonel, who in truth was staggering with drink, dragged him -through the anteroom, and threw him into the street. This brought his -comrade to his senses, and he apologized hastily both for himself and -Colonel Schwarzfelder. - -"Deem yourself fortunate," said Sir William, sternly and with much -dignity, "that you and Colonel Schwarzfelder do not hear more of this. -I am yet the commander-in-chief of his Majesty's forces in America, and -I am not to be insulted by any of my subordinates, either here or -elsewhere. Go back, sir, to your quarters at once and take your drunken -comrade with you. Lieutenant Melville, I thank you again for your -services." - -The officer retired in great confusion, and Sir William sent me back to -the anteroom. I left him sitting at his table, looking thoughtful and -gloomy. - - - - -CHAPTER TEN--_The Fine Finish of a Play_ - - -When I reached our room the next morning, I found Marcel just rising, -though there were black lines under his eyes, from which I judged that -his sleep had not been adequate to the demands of nature. Yet he seemed -happy and contented. There was upon his face no shadow, either of -troubles past, present, or to come. - -"Ah, Philadelphia is a pleasant place, Robert my bold knight!" he said. -"I would that I could stay here long enough to exhaust its pleasures. It -is seldom that I have met fellows of such wit, fancy and resource as -Moore, Vivian, and the others. They have an abundance to eat here, cards -without limit, beautiful women to look upon and admire and dance with; a -theatre where they say the plays are not bad, and upon the stage of -which the beautiful Mary Desmond herself is to appear with honor and -distinction, for she could not appear otherwise. Now tell me, out of the -truth that is in your soul, Robert Chester, can life at Valley Forge -compare with life in Philadelphia?" - -The mention of Mary Desmond's name in such a connection of course caught -my attention, but I deferred all question about it until I could draw -from Marcel the narration of what had occurred at Catron's room when I -did not come to arrange the duel. - -"We had a game, a most beautiful game," said Marcel, in reply. "Vincent -Moore and I were partners, and we won everything that the others could -transfer from their pockets to the table. Upon my soul, Bob, I love that -Irishman almost as much as I do you!" - -"But the duel?" I said; "what explanation did you make for me?" - -"By my faith," he cried, "Vivian and Belfort and Catron wanted us to -explain how we could win so handsomely and so continuously. They said -that Old Nick was surely at our elbow, and if you consider the invisible -character of the gentleman aforesaid, I cannot deny that he was or -wasn't." - -"But the duel, the duel?" I said. "Marcel, be serious for two -consecutive minutes!" - -"Oh, that little affair of yours and Belfort's! I had forgotten about it -in the midst of more important subjects. Why do you bother so much over -trifles, Chester? It's that confounded Quakerish sense of responsibility -you have. Get rid of it. It will never do you any good in this world or -the next, and will spoil many otherwise pleasant moments. But your -little affair? I see that you are growing red in the face with -impatience or annoyance, and are not to be satisfied without a -narration. Well, I arrived at Catron's room on time, and explained that -you had been summoned by Sir William Howe, and would communicate with us -as soon as you could escape from the honor conferred upon you by the -commander-in-chief. All of which I spoke in most stately and proper -fashion, and the result seemed extremely satisfactory to every gentleman -present, saving his High Mightiness, Lieutenant Reginald Belfort, who -was disposed to impugn your courage or at least your zeal for a trial at -arms, whereupon I offered to fight him myself, without delay, in that -very room and at that very minute. Moore was eager for it, saying that -the proposition was most becoming to a gentleman like myself (I gave him -my best bow) and was in the highest interest of true sport, but the -others lacked his fine perceptions and just appreciation of a situation -and would not allow it. Then Moore proposed cards, and we sat down to -the game at exactly ten minutes past four o'clock by my watch, and we -did not rise until ten minutes past four o'clock this morning by the -same watch, rounding out the twelve hours most handsomely. At some point -in those twelve hours,--I do not remember just when, for I held a most -beautiful hand at that moment,--Sir William's secretary came in with a -report that you had been installed for the night in his place, which, of -course, checked any further aspersion on your honor that Belfort might -have had in store for you." - -Then I told him that Sir William Howe knew of the projected duel and had -forbidden it. - -"What do you say now, Marcel?" I asked. - -"Why, it was a pretty affair before," he exclaimed, and his face -expressed supreme satisfaction, "but it is famous now. A duel is a duel -at any time, but a forbidden duel is best of all. You and Belfort are -bound to fight since the commander-in-chief has forbidden it. I can -conceive of no possible set of circumstances able to drive us away from -Philadelphia until the edges of your swords shall have met." - -"But how?" I asked helplessly. - -"Don't worry," he said with confidence. "Moore and I will arrange it. -With that man to help me, I would agree to arrange anything. Now, Bob, -you just be calm and trust me. Don't bother yourself at all about this -duel until you get your sword in your hand and Belfort before you; then -do your best." - -It is the truth that I had no wish to fight a duel, but I did not intend -that I alone should appear unwilling; so I left the affair in Marcel's -hands, meanwhile seeming to look forward to the meeting as a man does to -his wedding. Then I asked Marcel what he meant by the appearance of Miss -Desmond in the play. - -"I was going to tell you of that," he said. "You know the little theatre -in South Street. It has been the scene of some famous plays during the -past winter. They have officers here who write them and act them too. -There's 'The Mock Doctor,' and 'The Devil is in it,' and 'The -Wonder,'--the wonder of which last is a woman who kept a secret,--and -maybe a dozen more. Well, they are going to give one to-night that has -in it many parts for gallant knights and beautiful ladies. The British -officers are, of course, the gallant knights, and our Tory maidens are -the beautiful ladies. They asked Miss Desmond to take a leading part. -She objected to appearing on the stage, and her father, the crusty old -merchant, sustained her in the refusal. But they tacked about and poured -in a broadside from another quarter,--it was a naval officer who told me -about it. They said that she was the most conspicuous of the Tory young -ladies in Philadelphia, and she would seem lacking in zeal if she -refused to share in an affair devised, given, and patronized by the most -loyal. Whereupon she withdrew her refusal, and I suppose has prevailed -upon her father to withdraw his also,--at least he has made no further -objection. You will go, of course, Robert, and see her act." - -Yes, I would go, but I was conscious in my heart of a secret dislike to -the appearance of Mary Desmond upon the stage. It was an affair for -ladies and gentlemen, and but few of the general public would be -present; still it was not a time when play acting was regarded with very -favorable eyes, especially in America. Yet I was conscious that my -objection was not founded upon that feeling. I did not wish to see Mary -Desmond, to whom I was naught, seeking the applause of a crowd, and -above all, I was not willing to hear these men from England discussing -her as they would discuss some stage queen of their own London. - -Belfort, who was a fine actor, so Marcel told me, was to have the hero's -part, and he was to make love to Miss Desmond. - -"But I promise you it's all in the play, Bob," said Phil, looking at me -from under his eyebrows. - -I was not so sure of that, but this additional news increased my -distaste for the play, and I would have changed my mind and stayed away -if Marcel had not assured me that it could not be done. - -"You are to go with us behind the scenes, Bob," he said. "We have -already arranged for that. Moore is one of the managers, and he has made -me his assistant. Behold, how invaluable I have become to the British -army in the few days that we have been in Philadelphia! We may need your -help, too. You are to be held in reserve, and Moore will never forgive -you if you do not come." - -I was a little surprised at his eagerness on the point, but at the -appointed time I went with him to the theatre. It had never lacked for -attendance when the plays were given in the course of the winter, and -to-night, as usual, it was crowded with British and Hessian officers, -and Philadelphia Tories with their wives and daughters. I peeped at the -audience from my place behind the curtain, and it had been a longtime -since I had seen so much white powder and rose-pink and silk ribbon and -golden epaulet. - -I do not remember much about the play or even its name, only that it had -in it a large proportion of love-making, and fighting with swords, all -after the approved fashion. I might have taken more careful note, had -not Reginald Belfort and Mary Desmond filled the principal parts, and my -eyes and ears were for them in particular rather than for the play in -general. There was a great chorus of "Bravos," and a mighty clapping of -hands when she appeared upon the stage as the oppressed and distressed -daughter of a mediæval English Lord whom the brave knight, Lieutenant -Reginald Belfort, was to win, sword in hand, and to whom he was to make -the most ardent love. Belfort did his part well. I give him full credit -for that. He did not miss a sigh or vow of passion, and his voice, his -looks, his gestures were so true, so earnest, that the audience -thundered its applause. - -"Doesn't he play it splendidly?" said Marcel, in an ecstasy to me. - -"Yes, damn him!" I growled. - -And she! she merely walked through the part for a long time, but she -gradually caught the spirit of the lines--perhaps in spite of herself, I -hoped--and became the persecuted and distressed maiden that the play -would have her. Then her acting was real and sincere, and, with her -wondrous beauty to aid her, the audience gave her an applause even -exceeding that they had yielded to Belfort. - -"It's a dazzling success!" said Marcel to me, with continued enthusiasm -at the end of the second act. - -I was bound to own that it was. - -"But the best scene is to come yet," said Marcel, as he hurried away. -"It will close the play." - -The curtain soon fell on the last act and the distressed maiden and the -gallant knight who had rescued her, drawn sword yet in hand, had been -united forever amid the applause of all. This I supposed was the best -scene, though I could not see why Marcel should say so, and I was about -to leave, when he reappeared again and seemed to be in great haste. - -"Come this way, Bob!" he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "If you -go in that direction, you will lose yourself among the scenes and stage -trappings." - -I let him lead me as he wished, and in a few moments we came out, not -into the street as I had expected, but in an open space at the rear of -the theatre, where the moonlight was shining upon five men who were -standing there. They were Vivian, Catron, Moore, Harding, and two others -in plain dress who looked like surgeons. Marcel put a sword in my hand. - -"This is to be that last, the best scene, of which I told you," he said -gleefully. - -At that moment Belfort appeared escorted by Moore. Belfort still held in -his hand the sword that he had carried on the stage. - -There was no time for either of us to take thought; perhaps we would not -have taken it if there had been. The love-making scenes of the play were -fresh in my memory, and as for Belfort he hated me with sincerity and -persistency. We faced each other, sword in hand. - -"Isn't it glorious?" I heard Marcel say behind me. "Moore and I arranged -it. Could we have conceived of a prettier situation? And as the -finishing act, the last perfect touch to the play!" - -Belfort's eye was upon mine, and it was full of malice. He seemed glad -that this opportunity had come. I was only a fair swordsman, but I was -cool and felt confident. We raised our swords and the blades clashed -together. - -But the duel was not destined to be. The fine erection of circumstance -which Marcel and Moore--fit spirits well matched--had raised with so -much care and of which they were so proud, crumbled at a stroke to the -ground. - -Mary Desmond, still in her costume of the play, but changed from the -distressed maiden to an indignant goddess, rushed amongst us. - -"For shame!" she cried. "How dare you fight when Sir William Howe has -forbidden this duel! Are you so eager to kill each other that you must -slip from a stage at midnight to do it?" - -I have always remembered the look of comic dismay on the faces of Marcel -and Moore at this unhappy interference with their plans, but Marcel -spoke up promptly. - -"So far as time and place are concerned, Miss Desmond," he said, -"Lieutenant Melville and Lieutenant Belfort are not to blame. Moore and -I arranged it." (Moore bowed in assent.) - -She paid no attention to them, but reminded Belfort and me of our -obligations to obey the orders of the commander-in-chief. She looked -very beautiful in her indignation, the high color rising in her cheeks, -and, even with a fear of the charge that I dreaded the combat, I was -inclined to promise her that I would not fight Lieutenant Belfort. - -"Lieutenant Melville, will you not escort me back to the dressing-room -in the theatre?" she asked suddenly of me. - -I bowed, handed my sword to Marcel, and went with her, happy that she -had chosen me, though hardly knowing why. - -"I have no wish to hurt Lieutenant Belfort, and certainly none to be -hurt by him," I said, as we passed between stage scenery. "If it grieves -you to think that perchance he should be wounded by me, I will not fight -him at all." - -Perhaps I was not wholly sincere in that, but I said it. - -"I saw him to-night in the play," I continued, "and he was most earnest -and successful." - -"But it was a play, and a play only. Do not forget that," she said, and -was gone. - -When I returned to the court, I found no one there, save Waters, who had -helped that night in moving the scenery. - -"You are disappointed, Lieutenant Melville," he said, leering at me with -his cunning eyes. "You cannot have your duel. I came up just as you left -with Miss Desmond; there was an alarm that the provost guard was at -hand, and they all ran away, carrying Lieutenant Belfort with them. It -may have been part of Miss Desmond's plan." - -I did not even thank the man for his information, so much did I resent -his familiarity, and I resented, too, the fear which I felt of him and -which I could not dismiss despite myself. I went to my room, and found -Marcel waiting for me. - -"We have concluded to abandon the duel, Bob," he said. "Fate is -apparently against it. But 'tis a great pity that 'tis so. The finest -situation that I ever knew spoiled when it seemed to be most successful. -But don't think, Bob, that I wanted the life of you, my best friend, put -in risk merely for sport. Since I could not get the chance, I hoped -that you would give the insolent fellow some punishment, and I can tell -you in confidence, too, that Moore and the others had the same wish." - -I needed no apology from Marcel, as I knew that if necessary he would go -through fire for me; and I told him so. - - - - -CHAPTER ELEVEN--_A Man Hunt_ - - -The next day was dull, and the night began the same way, but it was not -destined to remain so. Great results accrue from small causes, and it -seemed that the arrival of Marcel and myself had given a fillip to the -quiet city and the lazy army reposing there. At least it flattered our -vanity to think so. - -Having nothing to do in the evening, our footsteps inevitably took us -toward Catron's quarters. I had not intended to go there, but the way of -amusement and luxury is easy, and I went. Moreover it was policy, I -persuaded myself, for us in our situation to live this rapid life, as it -would divert suspicion, and I found my conscience somewhat eased by the -thought. - -Catron had most comfortable quarters, and he was rarely troubled with -useless messages about military duty. So it had become a habit with the -others to gather there, and when we arrived we found Moore, Blake, who -was now quite well, and several others already present. Vivian was on -duty at Sir William's headquarters and could not come. They received us -warmly. Moore and Marcel indulged in some laments over their upset plans -of the night before, told each other how much better the affair would -have terminated had they been the principals instead of the seconds, and -then forgot it. Belfort came in promptly, and nodded to us in a manner -that indicated neither friendship nor hostility. I believed that he had -given up, unwilling to risk more failures, or perhaps convinced that we -were really what we claimed to be, but I decided to remain wary and -watch him. - -The night was dark, the clouds making threats of rain, and we felt it -was a good time to be indoors. Taking advantage of this feeling, Catron -and Moore began to urge cards. I feared the fascination of gaming, and -would have avoided the challenge, but I knew that I should have thought -of that before coming. Being there, it was not permitted me to escape, -and I sat down to picquet with the others. About the beginning of the -second hour of the play we heard a musket-shot, and in a moment or so, -several others, fired in a scattering volley. - -We threw down the cards and ran to the door. The night had darkened -further, and rain had begun to fall in a fine drizzle. Just as we -reached the door, we saw the flash of another musket-shot and the dim -forms of men running. - -"What is it?" we cried, stirred by the flash and the report and the beat -of flying feet. - -"The American prisoners have broken from the jail and the guards are -pursuing them!" some one replied. - -"A chase! a chase!" cried Moore and Catron, at once. "Come, lads, and -help the guards!" - -Hastily buckling on our swords, we rushed into the street and joined in -the pursuit. It was far from the thoughts of either Marcel or me to aid -in the seizure of any countrymen of ours who might be in the way of -escape, but in truth we were compelled to take up the chase with the -others. It was our duty as British officers, and I reflected with some -degree of pleasure that it was easy to pretend zeal and have it not. - -Brief as was my stay in Philadelphia, I had often looked at the gloomy -building on Washington Square, the Walnut Street jail, where so many of -my countrymen were confined and where so many of them suffered so -grievously. Once, in truth, I had been inside of it, at the harrying of -Alloway, and that visit did not increase my love for the place. It was -of such strength, and guarded with such care, that the report of all the -prisoners breaking from it seemed past belief. In truth, we soon found -that only a score had escaped, the score the next minute became a dozen, -then three or four, and, at last, only one. - -We rushed through the square brandishing our swords, firing two or three -shots from our pistols, and showing great enthusiasm. Belfort suddenly -caught sight of a fugitive form, fired a shot at it, and gave chase, -shouting that it was the escaped prisoner. He was right, for as we -followed, the man turned suddenly, discharged a pistol at his pursuers, -the bullet breaking a private's leg, and then ran toward the encampment -of the Hessian grenadiers between Fifth and Seventh Streets. - -On we sped through the dim light after him, and I began to revolve in -my mind some plan for helping the desperate fugitive. The very numbers -of the pursuers were an advantage, as we got in one another's way, and -moreover, a pursuer was sometimes mistaken for the prisoners, the -mistake not being discerned until he was overtaken with great violence. -Some of the people joined in the hunt, and I was heartily ashamed of -them. Presently a spacious citizen and myself collided with excessive -force. He sank to the ground, gasping, but I, who had some expectation -of the event, ran on, sure that I had done a good deed. Yet, in spite of -myself, I felt the enthusiasm of the chase rising in me. I suppose that -it does not matter what a man hunts so long as he hunts. But the -fugitive winding among streets and alleys led us a long chase and proved -himself to be noble game. Presently I heard Moore panting at my elbow. - -"The fellow runs well!" he exclaimed to me. "I'd like to capture him, -but I hope he'll escape!" - -Moore, it is to be remembered, was an Irishman. - -We lost sight of the fugitive a little later, but in a few moments saw -him again, his figure wavering as if he were approaching exhaustion. I -felt deep pity for him, and anger for myself because I had found no way -to help him in his desperate plight. He had succeeded in shaking off, -for the time being, all except our own party, which I now noticed had -been reinforced by Waters. Where he came from, I do not know, but he -seemed to be watching Marcel and me more than the fugitive. - -It was now hare and hounds, and the hare suddenly dashed into an alley, -which cut the middle of a city square. The others followed at once, but, -unnoticed, I left them and took a different direction, intending to -curve about the square and meet the fugitive on the other side, as I -thought it likely that he would turn when we came out of the alley and -run toward the north, which presented the best side for escape. It was a -chance, but I was determined to take it and it served me well. - -The rain was whipped into my face by the wind, and it half blinded me at -times, but I ran on, and presently the sounds of the pursuit up the -alley died. I was much bent upon helping the fugitive, and great was my -pleasure when I reached the parallel street to see a dim figure running -towards me. Even at a distance the figure showed great signs of -weariness, and I was sure that it was our man. - -I do not think that he saw me until he was very near, and then he threw -up his hands as if in despair. But he recovered himself in a moment, and -coming on quite fiercely struck at me with his unloaded pistol. Then I -saw, to my infinite surprise, that it was Alloway. I held my sword in my -hand, but I did not raise it against him or make any hostile movement, -and the fact made him look at me more closely. Then he saw my face and -knew me. - -"What are you going to do?" he asked. - -"Don't you hear the shouts of men before you?" I said. "The way is -closed there, and you know that others are hot behind you! You must -hide, and escape when the pursuit dies! See that house, the one with the -lawn in front and the gardens behind! Run! hide yourself there! It's -the house of John Desmond, a friend!" - -Without my noticing it until then, the windings of the chase had brought -us before John Desmond's home, and I saw no chance for Alloway unless he -could hide for the time in the house or gardens. - -"Quick," I cried, "over the fence! See, there is a light appearing in -the house now! It may be John Desmond himself! If it is an old man of -noble appearance, trust him, but put yourself in the hands of no woman, -and say nothing of me!" - -He obeyed, leaped the fence, and disappeared instantly in the shrubbery -just as the hue and cry emerged from the alley and swept up the street -towards me. - -I was in the shadow of the buildings, and I ran forward with great -energy, plunging violently into the arms of somebody who went down under -the shock of the collision. But he held tightly to me and shouted,-- - -"I have him! I have him! It's my capture!" - -I displayed a similar fierce zeal, and clung to him, exclaiming,-- - -"I thought that I would cut you off, and I have done it! Yield -yourself!" - -I reinforced my victory by sundry sound blows on the side of my -antagonist's head, but in a few moments the crowd surrounded and then -separated us, disclosing the bedraggled features of Moore, my captive. - -"Thunder and lightning!" exclaimed the Irishman, a broad smile -overspreading his face. "I thought you were a fool as you came straight -towards me, and you must have thought I was a fool coming straight -towards you; and sure both of us were right!" - -"Didn't you see him?" I cried, affecting the greatest impatience. "He -turned and ran back this way! He must have passed, as one of the crowd!" - -"Aye, yonder he goes, that must be he!" cried Moore, pointing in a -direction that led far away from Mr. Desmond's house. I think that Moore -saw double through the violence of his meeting with me, or perhaps he -mistook the dim figure of some one else for the fugitive. But as it was, -we followed the wrong trail at good speed. Belfort in the lead and I -last, wondering at the escape of Alloway and its singular timeliness, -for however well disposed he might be toward us, he might let slip at -any time, and without intending it, a word or two that would betray us. - -I knew that Belfort had no suspicions of my intervention in this case, -but the man Waters was there, and I believed that he was watching me -always. He dropped back presently to my side and said,-- - -"Do you think that the man will escape, lieutenant?" - -"I have no thoughts upon the subject," I said roughly, "and if I had I -certainly would not confide them to you." - -"I meant no harm, sir," he replied, "but one sometimes feels a little -sympathy for such poor hunted fellows." - -But I was not to be betrayed by such dangerous admissions. I would not -allow a man of his humble rank to question me, and I did not answer -him. - -The chase died presently. You cannot keep a fire going without fuel, and -since there was no longer a fugitive, we were no longer able to maintain -a pursuit. At last we gave up entirely and returned slowly and wearily -to Catron's quarters. I was sure that Alloway had been concealed by John -Desmond, and later on would slip out of the city. On the whole I felt -extreme satisfaction with the evening's work. My old wonder about the -timeliness of Alloway's escape returned, but there was no solution. What -Belfort thought of it he did not care to say, being silent like myself. - - - - -CHAPTER TWELVE--_A Delicate Search_ - - -I was aroused early the next morning by Marcel, who stood at my bedside -shaking me vigorously. - -"Get up, Bob," he said, "there is work for you to do." - -He was dressed already, and regarding me curiously, his gaze containing -a faint suggestion of humor. - -"What is it?" I asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes sleepily. - -"Your particular friend, Mr. Waters, is here with orders," he replied, -stepping to the door and giving a signal. - -The big, red-headed orderly entered and handed me a letter, gazing the -while respectfully at the wall, although I was sure that in his inmost -heart he suspected us and enjoyed our danger. I took the paper and held -it a moment between thumb and finger, fearing to read its contents, but -in a moment I dismissed my alarm as unworthy of a man and broke the -seal. - - Lieutenant Melville is ordered to take a file of men at - once and search the house of John Desmond for one Alloway, - an American soldier who escaped from the prison last night - and is believed to have hidden himself there. The search is - to be conducted with all the courtesy consistent with - thoroughness. - - HOWE, Commander-in-chief. - -I felt a rush of blood from the heart to the head when I read this -order. Who had betrayed Alloway? Marcel's fate and mine were in a way -bound up with his, and whoever had seen him entering the Desmond house -might too have seen me advising him to hide there. I looked fixedly at -Waters, but he was still gazing at the same spot on the wall and his -face was without expression. I studied his profile, the heavy -cheek-bones, the massive projecting jaw, and the steady black eyes, the -whole forming a countenance of unusual strength and boldness, and I felt -that he would dare anything. This was a man who could use his power over -Marcel and me merely for his own sport, torturing us until he chose to -crush us. - -And then another thought, even more unpleasant, came into my mind. -Perhaps it was Mary Desmond herself who had betrayed Alloway! It was -altogether likely that she would discover him in her father's house. But -I rejected the thought the next instant, since, Tory though she was, she -could not have stooped to such an act. - -"You can go," I said to Waters; and he left, first saluting both Marcel -and me, his face remaining a complete mask. - -Then I showed the order to Marcel. - -"I trust that you will find nothing," he said significantly, "but you -know, Lieutenant Arthur Melville of Newton-on-the-hill, Staffordshire, -England, that there is naught for you to do but go and do it." - -"I know it," I replied, "and I shall not hesitate." - -"Take care that you search properly," said Marcel, looking me straight -in the eye. I believed that he understood, but he said no more now, and -I went forth to do my distasteful duty. I took ten men and proceeded -towards the Desmond house. We attracted no attention in the street, as -soldiers had long since grown to be a common sight in Philadelphia, but -on the way we met Belfort and the Hessian Colonel Schwarzfelder, whom I -had thrown out of General Howe's room. They seemed to be acquainted and -on good terms, and I did not like this alliance of two men whom I knew -to be my enemies. I liked still less the question that Belfort asked me. - -"On duty, eh, Melville?" he said jauntily, as if he knew what I was -about, but preferred that I should tell it. - -I glanced at Schwarzfelder too, and noticed a sneering look on his face -as if he were prepared to enjoy a triumph over me. Perhaps it was -Belfort, after all, who was the cause of the proposed search. But I did -not hesitate to tell them the truth. - -"I am going to search John Desmond's house for the man who escaped from -the prison last night," I replied calmly. "It is the order of General -Howe." - -"And the beautiful Miss Desmond such a good Royalist!" said Belfort. "I -do not envy you." - -"I do not envy myself," I replied frankly, and walked on with my men, -arriving presently at Mr. Desmond's house, which looked as if all its -occupants were yet asleep. And in truth they might well be, since the -sun was just showing his red rim above the eastern hills, and in the -west the mists of early dawn yet lingered. - -I ordered my men to stand ready, and then I struck the door a -resounding blow with the great brass knocker. I listened a minute or -two, but no one answered, nor could I hear anything within the house to -indicate life and movement. I knocked a second and a third time, and -presently there was a sound on the inside as of some one moving a bar -from the door, which was opened the next moment by John Desmond himself. -He was fully dressed in sober Quaker gray, and regarded us with the -greatest sternness. I own that I was much embarrassed and felt extremely -uncomfortable. John Desmond was a man of imposing appearance and severe -countenance, and when he was angry, such being his present state of -mind, as any one could easily see, not even the most brazen subaltern -could be flippant in his presence. - -"What is it?" he asked; "why am I summoned at such an hour by an armed -guard? May I ask if his Majesty's officers have begun a systematic -persecution of all those who are friendly to the Congress?" - -"I am ordered to search your house, Mr. Desmond, for an American soldier -who escaped from the prison last night," I replied, "and who may have -hidden here. It is the order of General Howe." - -The old man's eyes flashed with anger. - -"I know nothing of this soldier," he said, "and there is nobody -concealed in my house, nor has there been." - -I said to myself that he was a good actor, but I also saw Belfort and -Schwarzfelder standing on the other side of the street and I knew they -were watching me. Every consideration demanded that I do my duty -promptly. - -"My orders are to search your house, Mr. Desmond," I said respectfully, -but in decided tones, "and surely you have seen enough of armies -recently to know what orders are. I shall have to enter and perform my -task." - -"He speaks the truth, father, and we should not resist," said a voice -that I knew behind him, and Miss Desmond appeared in the hall, composed -and as beautiful as ever. My suspicion returned. Could it be possible -that this girl in her zeal for Britain would give up Alloway, and -thereby destroy both Marcel and me? But she could know nothing of our -false attire, and I quickly absolved her of that intention. - -"Conduct your search," said Mr. Desmond; and placing six of my men about -the house as guards, I took the remaining four and entered. One, -Sergeant Blathwayt, an especially zealous man in the British cause, I -kept beside me in order that he might see how well I performed my trust, -as I knew not what consequences might arise from the incident. - -Mr. Desmond, haughtily indignant, withdrew to his own room, saying that -the search was an outrage upon the rights of a peaceable citizen, and if -the British could find no better way of making war, they should not make -it at all. I took his rebuke in silence, feeling the truth of his words -and my own inability to resent them. Miss Desmond, too, was silent until -her father disappeared, and I watched her, wondering at the strength, -calmness, and courage that this young girl always showed. Did she ever -feel fear? In truth she must feel it, but never before had I seen a -woman who could so well conceal all emotion. - -"Kindly continue the search, Lieutenant Melville," she said, in even -cold tones, "but I assure you in advance that my father tells you the -exact truth." - -She added the last sentence proudly and with another uplift of her high -head. - -"I trust, Miss Desmond, that for your father's sake the search will -prove fruitless," I said; "no one could wish a vain result of my task -more than I." - -She did not acknowledge my courtesy, and I proceeded with the work. -Blathwayt, in his eagerness, was already poking among the rooms, looking -behind curtains, opening the clothes-closets, and seeking in all manner -of possible and impossible places for the hidden man. I did not rebuke -his zeal, but began to pretend also to a similar enthusiasm, although I -remained in constant fear lest we should discover Alloway. I was sure -that he was in the house somewhere, and I did not see how we could avoid -finding him, to the consequent ruin of Marcel and myself. Mine was a -most peculiar position, and the chills coursed down my spine. Yet Mary -Desmond's cold eye was upon me, and I would rather have died than shown -apprehension while she looked so at me. The strange mingling of motives -in her character and conduct, her loyalty to the Royal cause and her -equal loyalty to her father, impressed me even then in that moment of -danger. - -We continued the search with vigor, going through all the rooms on the -lower floors, and then into the cellars. It was a large and fine house, -with spacious rooms, well stocked with furniture of mahogany and brass, -and we saw in the cellars so many bottles of Madeira and port and old -Spanish wines that the eyes of my English comrades began to glitter. -"'Ow I would like to 'elp loot this 'ouse," said a good-natured private -to me. I did not doubt the sincerity of his statement, but I saw no -chance for him. - -Miss Desmond accompanied us into the cellars, and as far as she showed -any feeling at all, apparently wished to facilitate my task. The cellars -were so extensive, and contained so many dark recesses, that the search -there lasted a full half-hour. We were about to return to the upper -floors, when I noticed a small door painted the color of the stone wall, -and fitting into it so neatly that we might well have passed over it at -a first look. Blathwayt himself had not seen it, but my eyes lingered -there, and when I looked up Miss Desmond was gazing at me. My heart -began to beat more rapidly. Alloway was behind that little gray door. I -divined it at once. But what were Miss Desmond's feelings? What would -she wish me to do? Was her loyalty to her father overcoming her loyalty -to the king? And then another question intervened. I alone had passed it -by; would she call attention to it? - -I hesitated a little, and then walked unnoticing past the door, but I -could not refrain from giving her a look of understanding, to tell her -that I had seen it but would save her father. Her eye glittered, whether -with scorn I could not say. - -"You are overlooking the alcove, Lieutenant Melville," she said. - -I paused, astounded, and I looked reproachfully at her, but her -expression did not change. Then I walked a little farther, as if I had -not heard, and she repeated,-- - -"You are overlooking the alcove, Lieutenant Melville." - -The others were at the far end of the cellar and could not hear her. - -"Miss Desmond," I said, "I have more regard than you for your father's -safety." - -Her eyes flashed. - -"Lieutenant Melville," she said, "I demand that you search the alcove." - -I hesitated, murmuring that I did not think it worth while; no one could -lie concealed in such a small, close place. - -"I shall report you to the commander-in-chief himself unless you search -it," she said, looking at me steadily. - -There could be no mistake; her manner and her tone alike indicated -decision, and that I must obey. Yet I did not withhold these words,-- - -"I know that you are a Tory, Miss Desmond, but I did not think that you -would go to such extremes." - -She made no reply, and surrendering all hope for Marcel and myself, I -turned the bolt and threw open the little door of the alcove. - -It was empty! - -I stood still, too much surprised to speak; relief, at that moment, not -having any part in my emotions, although it came later. - -"You know now, Lieutenant Melville, that your belief is as false as it -was unjust," said Miss Desmond, proudly. "You have wronged my father." - -"It is true," I confessed; and I confessed too, though not aloud, that -perhaps I had wronged some one else yet more. Then I called to Blathwayt -and censured him for overlooking the alcove. - -"The fugitive might have lain there safely hidden from all of us," I -said, "but I saw the place, and perhaps we may find others like it." - -He admitted his error humbly, and we passed to the other floors. Here -the feeling of relief disappeared from my mind, as we would surely find -Alloway near the roof since he was not in the cellar. We searched three -rooms, and then I put my hand upon the bolt fastening the door of the -third. - -"It is my bedroom," said Miss Desmond. - -"I regret to say that I am compelled to search it too," I replied. - -She bowed, making no further opposition, and, turning the key, I -entered. It was a large, light apartment. In a corner the high bed stood -within its white curtains, there were heavy rugs on the floor, a little -round table of ebony, and at the far end of the room, tongs and shovel -of brass hung beside the grate, in which two brazen fire dogs upheld -haughty heads. It was a handsome room, worthy of its mistress, and yet I -could not spare it. I looked everywhere,--behind the curtains, under -the bed, and in the clothes-closets,--but I did not find Alloway. - -When I finished Miss Desmond said to me,-- - -"I hope you believe that no man is concealed in my room." - -The color had risen in her cheeks, and I replied in great haste,-- - -"I have not believed it any time, Miss Desmond, and only my duty -compelled me to look here." - -What a consoling word those four little letters, "d-u-t-y," sometimes -spell! Blathwayt came to me the next moment, and reported that he had -searched the upper rooms and the garret without finding the lost -soldier. "But what a house it would be to loot!" he added in a whisper -to me, showing, like his comrade, those predatory instincts which the -British soldier often loves to indulge. - -I pretended to a belief that he had not searched well the top of the -house, and to show my zeal insisted upon conducting a hunt in those -regions myself. But I thought, as I ascended the last stairway, that it -would be rather a grim joke on me, if I found Alloway there after -Blathwayt had failed to do so. But no such bad luck happened, and ten -minutes later I announced with great but secret joy that his Britannic -Majesty's army in Philadelphia had done Mr. Desmond an injustice; no -soldier was concealed in his house, and I was sure that none ever had -been. But while I said this I was wondering what had become of Alloway; -he had entered the Desmond house, I knew beyond a doubt, and he must be -in it yet, hidden in some secret recess. Well, at any rate, the luck -which Marcel claimed was watching over us was still on guard. - -"I shall be pleased to tell your father how vain our search has been," I -said to Miss Desmond. But Mr. Desmond was yet in his own room and would -not come forth. The haughty old Quaker, as was evident to us all, -considered this search of his house a piece of gross insolence. - -"I trust that I shall never again be sent on such an errand," I said to -Miss Desmond as we prepared to go. - -She made the formal reply that she hoped so too, and I could read -nothing in her eyes. I was sure now that she had never known of -Alloway's presence in the house. Then I took my soldiers and went into -the street. - - - - -CHAPTER THIRTEEN--_Hessian Wrath_ - - -There was a narrow lawn in front of Mr. Desmond's house, and between -that and the street an ornate iron fence. As I opened the gate that -permitted egress, I saw Belfort and Schwarzfelder leaning upon the -fence, while Waters hovered near. The two officers were twirling their -mustaches after the most approved style of Old World dandies, and were -looking at me in a manner that I could interpret only as insolent. I -inferred at once that they and the Frenchman Waters were responsible for -the search, and had gone there to enjoy a triumph containing the -sweetest of flavor, my exposure and disgrace compelled by my own act. I -became sure of it when I saw the look of triumph on the faces of Belfort -and Schwarzfelder give way to one of surprise and disappointment. - -"Where is your prisoner, Lieutenant Melville?" exclaimed Belfort, unable -to control himself. - -I gave him a stare as haughty as I knew how to make it. - -"Did I understand you to ask where my prisoner was, Lieutenant Belfort?" -I asked. - -Both he and Schwarzfelder nodded. - -"Permit me to remark that this is very extraordinary," I said, -continuing my haughty manner, which suited my state of mind. "I am sent -on a secret errand of great importance by Sir William Howe, and before I -can report to him I am called to account concerning it in the streets of -Philadelphia by one of his Majesty's sub-lieutenants. Or perhaps I have -made a mistake, and General Howe has resigned in your favor. Do I have -the pleasure of addressing General Belfort, and not Lieutenant Belfort?" - -I gave him an extremely polite bow as I added the last sentence, and my -tone grew most humble. But he did not seem to appreciate my homage. His -face turned red. - -"Lieutenant Melville," he said, "I shall have satisfaction for this -insolence." - -"Don't make a fuss about it," I said lightly. "I was merely speaking for -your good, because if I had reported to you earlier than to Sir William -he might have resented it. Still, I don't mind telling you, lieutenant, -that we did not find the man, although we searched the house most -thoroughly." - -I was now happy, feeling my triumph somewhat, which may account for my -levity; but the mention of the prisoner again set Belfort on fire. - -"Did you look everywhere?" he asked eagerly. "It is certain that he took -refuge there." - -"Oh yes, sir!" interrupted Blathwayt, touching his cap, "we searched -every square inch of the house, and it was impossible for a man to be -hid there, and us not find him." - -It was disrespectful of Blathwayt to interrupt when his superiors were -talking, but for obvious reasons I did not correct him. - -"He must have been there! he must have been there!" repeated Belfort, in -disappointed tones. "Schwarzfelder says that he saw him dart among the -shrubbery around the house, and he did not come out of it again last -night." - -So it was Schwarzfelder who had played the spy! But even so, he had not -seen me give Alloway the warning or he would have betrayed me at once. I -began to bear towards Schwarzfelder a feeling akin to that I felt for -Belfort. - -"I think that Colonel Schwarzfelder must have been mistaken," I said. -"It is well known that our valiant Hessian officers often see double, -especially when it is so late at night. Forward, march, men!" - -I gave the order in a loud, peremptory tone, and my soldiers marched at -once in their stiffest and most precise manner. Schwarzfelder was -standing in the middle of the pavement, and they would have walked into -him had he not skipped to one side in the most undignified way. I think -that they would have been glad to do it, as generally the English -soldiers hated the Hessians. - -Schwarzfelder glowered at me, first because I had taunted him with his -German drunkenness and the memory of his ejection from Sir William's -headquarters, and secondly because in a metaphorical sense I had thrown -him off the sidewalk. But he said nothing. He was choking too badly over -his German wrath to enunciate words. I marched on with my men, leaving -him and Belfort to concoct whatever mischief they would. - -The man Waters, whom in truth I dreaded more than either Belfort or -Schwarzfelder, had drawn somewhat nearer and was gazing steadily at me. - -"Are you too looking for this American soldier, Waters?" I asked. "It -seems that the commander-in-chief is receiving a great deal of voluntary -assistance." - -"Your pardon, sir," said Waters, with respect, or the assumption of it, -"but I could not help hearing what the search was about, and I was -merely wondering if that old rebel John Desmond was caught at last." - -"Mr. Desmond may be a rebel," I replied angrily, "but it is not for you -to speak of him in such a manner." - -"I beg your pardon, sir, if I was presumptuous," he said meekly, -dropping his eyes. Yet I was sure that he was deriding me, and I walked -off, feeling an unpleasant chill again. I reported duly to Sir William -that the search had brought forth nothing, and he expressed -disappointment. - -"I cannot understand how the man escaped," he said thoughtfully. "It was -told to me that he was in the Desmond house, and I should have been glad -to find him there, because it would give me a power over this rebellious -old Quaker which I should be glad to use. I chose you for the task -because I felt sure of your loyalty and devotion to the king, and also I -know that you are a good friend of mine. There might have been promotion -in it for you." - -I thanked him humbly for his consideration, and I began to feel that the -well-meant friendship of Sir William Howe would prove troublesome. Yet I -was able to preserve a thankful countenance. Then he excused me, saying, -as I departed, that I might look for further rewards at his hands, even -in the short time left to him. Again I gave him thanks, and went out -into the street, where I knew that I should find some of my new comrades -ogling the pretty Philadelphia maids. The first that I beheld were -Marcel and Vincent Moore, walking arm in arm. Marcel was in a splendid -new uniform that fairly glittered with gold lace,--where he got it he -has never told me, although I suppose that promptly after its arrival -from England he won it at cards from some brother officer, perhaps from -Harding, the new cousin, as they were about of a size and the uniform -fitted Marcel beautifully. Moore also had achieved his utmost splendor, -looking almost as fine as Marcel, and I saw clearly that the two were -out to "kill" whatever beauty came their way. - -"And you did not find the man, Melville?" exclaimed Marcel, seizing me -by the arm; I was sure that he had heard the vain result of the search. - -"If the bird was ever there, it had flown before our arrival," I -replied, putting as much regret into my tones as I could. - -"Then let war go! Come with us and look for the smiles of beauty," said -Marcel, in his high flown manner. In truth, after inviting me, they gave -me no choice, for Marcel took me by one arm and Moore by the other, and -I could not escape swaggering on with them. I felt such relief from the -situation of the morning, and the sunshine was so brilliant and -inspiring, that I began to share their exultant views of life. We -presently met Miss Rankin and another girl whom we knew, and, turning in -our course, we walked beside them, exchanging the courtesies of the day, -pouring out extravagant compliments, and otherwise behaving in a manner -not unusual to masculine youth on such occasions. - -Marcel, with incredible effrontery, began to tell some of the latest -news about people of fashion in London, speaking as if he knew them -intimately. I supposed that he had picked up the gossip, like the -uniform, from Harding. This lasted a full ten minutes, and then we met -Miss Desmond and her father, also walking in the sunshine. We gave them -most ornate salutations, but their reply was not in kind. Miss Desmond's -slight bow was accompanied by a look of surprise and disdain directed -towards me. I know that I reddened under the glance, for, in truth, I -became suddenly ashamed of myself, being fully aware that I had been -behaving like a Jack o' dandy with more youth than brains. But there was -no escape for me, and I walked on with my chattering companions, -suddenly become silent, although they did not notice it, since they were -making so much noise themselves. The ladies left us in another ten -minutes, and then I would have excused myself from Marcel and Moore, but -they would not hear of it. - -"If we don't keep you, you will get into mischief," said Marcel, with a -significance that Moore did not see, and they retained hold of my arms. -Shortly after, our party was increased by Vivian and Catron, and we -filled the sidewalk from edge to edge, all talking in lively fashion -except myself, Marcel being in his element. In truth, there was no need -that I should talk, since Marcel and Moore were doing enough and to -spare for us all. They continued to twirl their mustaches and look for -the pretty maids, but our next acquaintances who approached us were men -not maids, being, in truth, Belfort, Schwarzfelder, and Graves, arm in -arm, with the German in the centre. They walked straight towards us, and -I saw that unless either they or we turned aside, a most unpleasant -collision would occur, as the sidewalk was narrow. I observed no -evidence of an intent on the part of either my comrades or Belfort and -his friends to change their course, and I was annoyed excessively at the -prospect of a collision and a quarrel. In fact, I have never felt any -desire to be a swaggerer, and I began to wonder how I could get out of -the difficulty. If the others insisted upon trouble for themselves, they -might have it. - -I saw no solution of the difficulty; but, to my great amazement, my -friends suddenly stepped to one side when we were within a half-dozen -paces of our antagonists, forming a line at the edge of the sidewalk, as -if we were a guard of honor stationed there to give distinction to the -passage of Belfort and his companions; furthermore, they strengthened -the idea by taking off their caps and giving the others a bow of -astonishing sweep and depth, which Graves returned in kind, Belfort -slightly, and Schwarzfelder not at all. Not a word was said, the three -stalking solemnly past us, and then disappearing down the street, while -we returned to our natural place on the sidewalk, and walked on in the -way that we had been going. - -"Gentlemen," I said gravely, when we had gone about twenty yards, "I did -not think this of you." - -"And why not?" replied Marcel. "Could we have done otherwise after the -delicate attentions that you have received from Colonel Schwarzfelder. -We were the larger party, and therefore it was our duty, under the -circumstances, to give way to the smaller. Is that not so, Moore?" - -"Certainly," replied Moore. "We did our duty." - -I looked at them questioningly, and Marcel's eye began to twinkle. - -"Oh, you have not heard of the billet-doux that Schwarzfelder has -written you?" he asked. - -"What are you talking about?" I replied. - -"It was done in the most perfect manner," said Moore; "I wish that it -had come for me." - -"I refuse to go a step farther unless you tell me what you are talking -about," I said, and I stopped short. They could have carried me on only -by dragging me, and that would have looked undignified. - -"Suppose we let him have the letter,--Schwarzfelder's masterly -production," said Marcel. - -"Yes, let him see it," said Vivian. - -Marcel accordingly took from his waistcoat pocket, an envelope with a -broken seal, superscribed in a large heavy hand, "To Captain, the -Honorable Charles Montague." I put it to my nose, and it smelled of both -tobacco and wine. - -"But think of its contents," said Marcel. - -I opened it, and stared at the writing, of which I could not read a -word. It was in German. The others burst into laughter. - -"That billet-doux," said Marcel, "is a challenge from your dear friend, -Schwarzfelder. It seems that you did him a wrong this morning, or at -least he thinks so, and off he rushed to his headquarters so blindingly -angry that he must challenge you at once. He thinks of me as your best -friend, and, still mad with anger, he forgets himself so far as to write -the body of the letter in German, and also to ignore the use of a second -for himself. But Belfort has set all of that right. Now it seems that -fate won't let you fight Belfort; but I don't see how you can keep from -meeting Schwarzfelder. Lieutenant Melville, if I had your quarrelsome -disposition, I certainly should expect to die on the field of honor -before I was turned twenty-five." - -Then they laughed again, enjoying my plight and vexation. - -"Belfort is at any rate a gentleman," I said; "but Schwarzfelder is at -least three-fourths ruffian, and I think that it would be a disgrace to -meet him." - -"But you cannot refuse on that account," said Catron, gravely, "these -men seem bent upon persecuting you, Melville, and you will have to put a -stop to it with either sword or pistol. Suppose that we go to your -quarters and discuss it." - -I was willing, and ten minutes later we were around a table in our room, -talking over the situation. Marcel had ordered wine from the -commissariat, and the glasses were filled by the orderly, Waters, who -was silent, and, as usual, apparently respectful. - -"It is obvious that our friend Melville must meet Schwarzfelder," said -Marcel, at length. "This Hessian is a drunkard and a bravo; but he is an -officer of rank, even of much higher rank than Melville. Our man, -therefore, must teach him a lesson. Do you say so, gentlemen?" - -"We do say so," replied Catron, Moore, and Vivian together. - -I saw that they were right, according to the code of the day, and I -began, in spite of myself, to feel a willingness for the combat. Catron -said that they were persecuting me, and that word "Persecute" began to -inflame my anger. I would show them that persecuting had its risks. - -"I am not much of a swordsman," I said; "but I am a good shot, and so I -choose pistols at twenty paces." - -"Then pistols it is," said Catron; "and now for a letter to Belfort, who -is to be Schwarzfelder's second, which will show that we know how to -manage such an affair as this in the most courteous manner." - -Then we set ourselves to the task of writing the letter,--a labor that -was by no means small,--and while we were hard-set at it, Waters came -into the room again and saluted. - -"Well?" said Catron, impatiently. - -"Your honor," said Waters, apologetically, "there is some news of -interest in the city, and I thought that you would pardon me for telling -it to you." - -"Wait! Do you not see that we are busy? You should not interrupt!" -replied Marcel. - -"But this is a most extraordinary affair, and the whole town is ringing -with it," rejoined the man. - -I saw now that his eyes were sparkling after the manner of one who has a -budget of good gossip to tell and is anxious to tell it. The others -noticed it too, and our own curiosity began to rise. - -"What is it, Waters?" I asked. - -He opened his hands, showing a piece of white paper about a foot long -and perhaps half as wide. - -"There is writing upon it; I ask your honor to read it," he said. - -I took it and read: - - To SIR WILLIAM HOWE, _Commander-in-chief of His Britannic - Majesty's forces in Philadelphia_:-- - - I beg to present to you my compliments, and to notify you - that I shall pay a visit to the City of Philadelphia one - night this week, in order that you may prepare a reception - worthy of yourself and me. - - Yours faithfully, - - WILLIAM WILDFOOT, - _Captain in the Continental Army_. - -"It is said that over twenty of these have been found in the city -to-day," said Waters, "all exactly alike, and written in the same hand." - -The penmanship was large, rough, and angular, evidently that of a man -more accustomed to grasping the sword than the goose quill. - -Catron swore a tremendous oath. - -"Well, of all unmitigated impertinences this is the greatest!" he -exclaimed. - -"It's mere bravado," said Vivian. "Of course the man will not think of -venturing into Philadelphia." - -"They say that he surely will come," said Waters; "it is the gossip of -the city." - -"If he does," added Vivian, scornfully, "he will come only to be -hanged." - -I was not so sure, but I said nothing. I remembered our former encounter -with Wildfoot, and the singular words that he shouted to me as he dashed -past. The others discussed the insolent placards with some degree of -heat. - -"Have you heard what Sir William says about this piece of presumption?" -asked Vivian of Waters, letting his curiosity overcome his dignity. - -"I have heard only, sir, that he was extremely angry," replied Waters. - -"An entirely natural emotion under the circumstances," added Marcel. - -Then we returned to the discussion of my own affair, and shortly after -the important letter was finished, notifying Belfort that I accepted -Schwarzfelder's challenge, naming pistols as the weapons, and stating -that Captain Montague would call upon him as soon as possible to make -arrangements as to time and place. - -"There," said Marcel, his face flushing with satisfaction, as he looked -at the completed letter, "I think that's as pretty a piece of work as -any one of us has done in many a day. I don't want you to kill that -Hessian fellow, Melville; but if you could let a lot of blood from him -with a bullet, say in his shoulder, it would improve both his appearance -and his manners." - -Waters was deputed to bear the letter to Belfort, and then we went out -to enjoy the small portion of the day and the sunshine that was left to -us. This was Tuesday, and Marcel and Moore began to calculate when they -could have the duel, the two undertaking to manage it, just as they had -managed my abortive affair with Belfort. Marcel was of the opinion that -the meeting could be held within two or three days, the time to be just -at dawn, and the place to be a spot in the Northern suburbs, barely -within the line of the British pickets, but where they could not see us. - -We were not permitted to think long of the proposed duel. Wildfoot's -placard was making a great buzz in the city, and many of the British -officers who believed that he would keep his promise thought that the -time to catch him had come. - - - - -CHAPTER FOURTEEN--_According to Promise_ - - -I was at mess when an orderly arrived from Sir William, bidding my -immediate presence at his quarters, a command that I could not think of -disobeying, however reluctant I might be to go. It was in truth somewhat -unpleasant to leave the brilliantly lighted room with its glittering -china and silver, its abundant wines, and the talk and laughter of the -good comrades who were there, for the loneliness and work of the -commander-in-chief's house. I like to be popular with my superior -officers, but now and then popularity is burdensome, and I leave it to -anybody if Sir William's favor was not extremely embarrassing to one in -my position. So I rose and apologized with reluctance for my departure, -which I said I must take at once, and at the same time naming the cause. - -"Farewell, Melville," they shouted with mock solemnity. "He goes to sure -promotion, and this is another good man lost to those who love him." - -I found Sir William at the table in his workroom, and the heap of papers -that lay before him was larger than the one which had been there the -first night that I had helped him. These were the closing days of his -command, and much remained to be done. He was, as I have said before, -and as all the world knows, an easy, sluggish, good-natured man, fond of -pleasure, and his work always came last. Vivian was there helping him, -and not looking over-happy. I was sure that he, like myself, was -thinking longingly of the mess and its lights and the good company. But -his face brightened a bit when he saw me, knowing now that he would have -a companion in misery. - -Sir William turned to me a face upon which annoyance was plainly -written, and I saw in his hand a placard like that which Waters had -shown to us. - -"Melville, have you heard of this?" he asked, holding up the placard. - -"Yes, sir, I have heard of it." - -"This placard, or paper, or whatever it may be, is the most unexampled -impertinence," he said, the red flushing into his swarthy face. "I think -that it is intended as a personal insult to me. This outlaw Wildfoot -must know of my forthcoming departure for England, and he is seeking to -taunt me. But he shall not do it! I tell you, he shall not do it!" - -He struck his fist upon the table to give emphasis to his statement that -he would not allow a rebel partisan to upset his dignity, but it was -entirely obvious that it _was_ very much upset. - -"If the man is so foolish and reckless as to enter Philadelphia," -continued Sir William, "he will never get out again. I shall at least -have the satisfaction of disposing of this troublesome fellow before I -go to England." - -The thought gave him consolation, and he began to dictate to us orders -about the watch for Wildfoot, doubling the sentries, cautioning them to -increase their vigilance, and making new dispositions of the pickets -which he thought would guard the city better. Many of these movements -could not be executed before the next morning; but Sir William did not -look for Wildfoot for two or three nights, provided he came at all, and -his countenance and voice began, by and by, to express satisfaction. - -"We shall have our trap set," he said, "and the outlaw will walk into it -just as we wish." - -The time passed slowly, and we were reinforced presently by another -secretary, who proved to be young Graves, a man who was the friend of -Belfort and Schwarzfelder, and more or less hostile to me. But he was in -a good humor, thinking of the prospective duel, in which he was to have -a part as one of the managers,--a circumstance which flattered his -pride, and he was very courteous to me. He exchanged a word occasionally -with me about it in a whisper, and informed me, by and by, that he was -not sure Schwarzfelder would win. - -In a short while, Graves was sent to the anteroom to copy some documents -there. He sat at a table near the wall, and once, when I went to take -him some papers, I saw the sentinel, loaded gun on shoulder, walking -back and forth in front of the door. I heard the sound of footsteps -outside and, looking through the window, beheld a company of troops -marching past. It was evident that Sir William's anger over Wildfoot's -impertinence was producing activity. Then I went back to the -commander-in-chief's table and resumed my work there. - -I think it was about 10 o'clock when Sir William told me to go and help -Graves, who seemed to be falling behind in his task. I drew up a chair -and sat down at the table facing Graves, and with my back to the door. -He, feeling his importance, wanted to exchange with me more whispered -comments on the duel; but I wished to avoid the subject, and worked so -industriously that he gave up the attempt. - -We heard nothing during the next quarter of an hour but the scratching -of our goose quills and the occasional words of Sir William in the next -room as he gave an order. Then, chancing to look up, I beheld a most -extraordinary expression on the face of Graves. His eyes were distended -to a great width, and the white in them was shot with little specks of -red, the muscles of his face were drawn, and his whole look was that of -a man suffering from the most alarmed surprise. - -"Why, what under the sun is the matter, Graves?" I exclaimed. - -He did not say a word, but pointed behind me. I wheeled around to see; -but powerful hands grasped me by the throat, while other hands thrust -the muzzle of a pistol into my face. It was not necessary for anybody to -say to me: "Move a foot, or say a word, and you shall be a dead man!" I -knew it perfectly well without the telling, and I neither moved nor -spoke. Graves, who at the same instant had been served as I was, showed -a similar wisdom. Something soft, but very filling, was thrust into my -mouth, and, with an expedition as unpleasant as it was astonishing, I -was bound tightly to the table. Then the strong hands slipped off me, -and I was at liberty to gaze as much as I wished into the eyes of -Graves, who sat opposite me just as he had sat when we were at work, and -who was as securely bound and gagged as I. I always fancy that we made a -pretty pair, trussed up there like two turkeys ready for the spit. I -would have given much for a few words to express my feelings, but my -mouth was too full. I merely read the various looks in the eyes of -Graves, all of which expressed anger. - -The men, four in number, who had performed this impolite deed, brushed -past me, and I saw only their backs, which were large and powerful. The -door between our room and Sir William's was shut; but they opened it, -leaving it so, and entered. I faced the apartment, and I saw distinctly -all that passed. Thus it was my fortune, while listening to the most -amazing conversation that I ever heard, to see also those who talked, -though only the back of one of the most important. - -Sir William and Vivian were writing busily at the large table in the -centre of the room, when the intruders entered. Sir William sat at the -side of the table facing us, and Vivian was at the end. I saw the faces -of both clearly by the light of wax candles. Sir William had begun to -wear his usual placid look. I inferred that he was pleased at what he -was writing just then, and I think that it was instructions which he -felt soon would cause the capture of Wildfoot. The largest man of the -four put his hand on a chair, and drawing it up to the table sat down -opposite to Sir William and with his back to me. Neither Sir William nor -Vivian noticed their entrance until then, as they had walked with -extreme lightness. But when Sir William looked up and beheld the -stranger sitting uninvited and so calmly before him, his face flamed -into anger. I could see the rush of blood to his head. - -"Who are you, and how dare you come here?" he cried, springing to his -feet. - -"Be seated, Sir William, be seated," replied the man, in a strong, -clear, and soothing voice. "There is no occasion for surprise or wrath. -I am not an intruder. I sent you word in writing that I would call." - -I saw Sir William's face turn quite black, and he began to choke. - -"You are--you are--" he gasped. - -"You have divined it, Sir William," replied the man. "I am Captain -William Wildfoot, captain of rangers in the Continental service. Your -guest, if you please, and I must warn you and your assistant not to -shout for help, or my men will shoot you instantly. The young -lieutenants in the front room, as you can see for yourself, will keep -very quiet." - -What I wished most of all at that moment was to see the man's face. His -effrontery, his astonishing recklessness, inspired me with the deepest -curiosity. I thought that Marcel and I had shown considerable -presumption, but we were children, raw beginners, compared with this -man. - -"What do you want?" asked Sir William, at last. - -"First, that you and your assistant put your hands upon the table, or -else I shall have to bind you," replied Wildfoot. - -Sir William frowned and choked again; but there was no recourse, and he -and Vivian both laid their empty hands upon the table. - -"That is better," said Wildfoot, in a pleased tone; "I know that it is -undignified in you, but the good of our service demands it. And now for -serious talk. I came to show you, Sir William, the insecurity of your -position, and the great resources of the patriots." - -"I must say," replied Sir William, "that I never before saw a man so -anxious to give his side of the argument." - -"Yes," replied Wildfoot, "I have been at some trouble and risk to do -so." - -I saw a faint gleam of humor appear in the eyes of Sir William, and I -inferred that the quality of geniality or good fellowship in him, which -perhaps made him such a poor soldier, was rising to the surface. He -seemed to appreciate, to a slight degree at least, the humor of the -situation. His eye suddenly sought mine, and then I distinctly saw a -trace of amusement mingling with his perplexed and annoyed expression. - -"You seem to have made sure of the attention of Lieutenant Melville and -Lieutenant Graves," he said. - -"I have no doubt that they can maintain their interest," replied -Wildfoot, "and their present position is only temporary." - -"You say that you came to show me the strength and resources of the -colonists. Will you tell me how this is so?" asked Sir William. - -"That I am here is the proof of it." - -"It is true that you are here, but I have an idea, Captain Wildfoot, -that you will not go away again." - -"Why not?" - -"I am hospitable. We need you. Philadelphia needs you." - -"I know it, and so I shall come back again." - -"No, we wish you to stay with us now." - -I should have laughed at this point had not the gag been in my mouth, -not at the conversation of Sir William and Wildfoot, but at the funny -look on the face of Graves. He had a great sense of dignity and -aristocratic importance, and it was hurt by the sudden intrusion of -Wildfoot. I said: "Never mind, Graves, it will soon be over," but the -words stopped short against that gag, and he did not hear them. I did -not even hear them myself. Vivian, on the contrary, was bearing himself -like a gentleman. He sat perfectly still, with his eyes either on Sir -William or Wildfoot, and so far as I could see, his face was without -expression. The three men who accompanied Wildfoot remained standing, -but motionless, each with a cocked pistol in his hand. One stood with -his face turned towards me, but every feature was hidden by a thick, -bushy, black beard. - -"So I take it, that you have done this thing merely in a spirit of -bravado," said Sir William, "and I wish you to understand, Captain -Wildfoot, that I thoroughly appreciate your daring. I could wish that -you were one of us; in the king's service you would be a colonel at -least, and not a mere rebel captain; moreover, your neck would be in no -danger." - -"But I would be colonel in a losing cause," replied Wildfoot, "and to -tell the truth, Sir William, I enjoy my captaincy among the rebels, as -you call them, much more than any man enjoys his colonelcy among the -king's men. No, Sir William, I am happy where I am; then why seek -unhappiness elsewhere?" - -"Are you quite sure that you are happy where you are?" - -"Quite sure." - -"Then it is not worth while to attempt persuasion; but to return to -another point, Captain Wildfoot, we value men of your spirit and daring -too much to give them up when they come once among us. We must even -detain you by other means than persuasion." - -"I thank you for the honor, Sir William," said Wildfoot, with a grateful -inflection, "but I had formed another plan, somewhat different in manner -but similar in the result that you mention." - -"May I ask just what you mean?" - -"It is not necessary for us to be separated under my plan." - -"I do not understand yet." - -"I had thought, Sir William, of taking you with me when I left -Philadelphia." - -The deep red flushed Sir William's swarthy face again. My amazement at -Wildfoot's presumption increased, but I remembered the case of the -English general Prescott, who had been kidnapped in Rhode Island by the -daring American captain, Barton. - -"Do you mean that you would carry me off as a prisoner?" asked Sir -William. - -"Such was my intention, if you will pardon the rudeness," replied -Wildfoot, humbly. "And if you will excuse me again, Sir William, we must -hurry." - -I saw Vivian suddenly lean over in his chair, throw out his arms, and -sweep from the table the candles, extinguishing them instantly, while -Graves, with a single strong puff of his breath, blew out the one in -front of us. The rooms were plunged into darkness, and what had seemed -comedy before, became tragedy, especially for Graves and me, bound as we -were to the table and powerless to cry out. I heard the quick, heavy -tread of feet, and the crack of a pistol shot, the flash of the powder -casting for a moment a fantastic light by which I saw rapidly moving -figures, and then the sound of shattering glass and another shot. - -I do not think that I breathed for a minute or two. The next room, with -the darkness, the pistol shots, the occasional flashes of light and the -trampling feet, furnished every evidence of a deadly struggle, and at -any moment a pistol ball might take me in the breast, while I sat there -bound to the table, powerless to help myself, and unable even to make -myself heard. - -A man brushed suddenly past me, threw open the outer door, and shouted -to the guards, who were already crowding into the room. But the sounds -in the inner chamber ceased with great suddenness, and in a moment, a -flame flared up. It was Vivian relighting a candle. He was very pale, -and the blood was dripping from his left arm, which was limp by his -side. Save for himself, the room was empty. Broken glass from both -windows lay on the floor. Near the table was a large spot of blood. - -"They escaped through the windows, Sir William," said Vivian, "but I -think that one has carried with him the mark of my bullet." - -"And you have the mark of his," replied Sir William, who was at the -outer door. "One of you men run for a surgeon at once. I owe too much to -you, Vivian, to forget this." - -Then he began to give hasty orders for the pursuit of Wildfoot and his -men. All the anger and chagrin which he had concealed so well in their -presence surged up. - -"They shall be caught! They shall be caught!" he cried. "I will give a -hundred guineas myself to the man who first lays hands on this Wildfoot. -Send the alarm to all the pickets, and permit nobody to leave -Philadelphia on any pretext whatever!" - -He continued his orders, and messengers rushed with them to the -outposts, impressed by the anger and emphasis of the commander-in-chief -which would permit no delay. Two or three minutes passed thus, and the -fierce mental exertion seemed to calm Sir William. More candles had been -lighted, and looking about the room, he saw Graves and me still -motionless and confronting each other across the table, as silent as -sphinxes. - -"What, are you bound?" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you call for help?" - -And we were yet silent. - -He stared at us in surprise, and then he burst into laughter. I think it -was partly relief from the nervous strain that made him laugh. - -"I have heard often," he said, "that silence is a virtue, but this seems -to me to be carrying it to an extreme point." - -He promptly gave orders to have the gags and thongs removed, and I -stretched my muscles with a feeling of deep relief. Wildfoot might be a -great partisan commander, but there was such a thing as pernicious -activity. I was a good American, and it was a grievous insult to be -bound and gagged by another good American. - -"How did this happen?" asked Sir William. - -"I do not know," I replied, glad to be able to speak again. "We were -bent over the table, busy with our writing, when we were seized from -behind. I cannot understand how they passed the sentinel unnoticed." - -Sir William swore a frightful oath. - -"The sentinel has disappeared," he said. "Undoubtedly he was in league -with them, perhaps an American whom we took to be a faithful Tory. We -will capture this Wildfoot before morning, and you shall help." - -I exchanged a word or two with Vivian, and found that he was not badly -hurt. A small bone in his left arm was broken by the bullet, but it -would heal perfectly in a week or two. Then I hurried out with Sir -William and Graves. - - - - -CHAPTER FIFTEEN--_The Pursuit of Wildfoot_ - - -The general was so eager that Graves and I were several yards behind him -when we emerged from the house into the midst of a great tumult, -orderlies galloping from the door with despatches, and others returning -for more, while lights were increasing rapidly in the city, and soldiers -were gathering for duty. It was evident that Sir William was thoroughly -aroused, and intended to capture Wildfoot if it were possible to do such -a thing. My first feeling of anger against the ranger because of his -treatment of me passed, as I reflected that he naturally took me for a -British officer, and could not have done otherwise, even had he known -the difference. Now I began to fear for him. I did not wish this bold -man, so valuable to our cause, to be captured, possibly to be hanged -upon some pretext or other. But Sir William did not give me much time to -think. - -"Be sure you follow me, Melville," he said. - -He was already on horseback, and, mounting a horse that an orderly held -for me, I galloped after him. He had gathered several other aides in his -rapid pursuit, and we made quite a cavalcade, the hoofs of our horses -thundering upon the hard street. The whole city was awake now; -night-capped heads were thrust from windows, and trembling voices asked -what was the matter. But we paid no heed, galloping on. - -Catron was among the officers who had joined us, and pointing towards -Germantown, he said:-- - -"They ran this way; I saw four men with pistols in their hands dash down -the street. One was very large." - -"That was Wildfoot! It was he! Sound the call!" Sir William shouted -joyfully to a trumpeter. - -The man put the instrument to his lips and blew the hunting call. -Merrily rose the notes, and Sir William's spirits rose with them. He -felt sure that already he held Wildfoot in the hollow of his hand. - -Our rapid ride was bringing us near the outskirts of the city, where the -British intrenchments and fortifications lay, and I imagined that it was -Sir William's plan to establish first a thorough picket line, and then -to search every house in Philadelphia for Wildfoot and his comrades. -But, turning my eyes to the southward, I saw a sudden rosy glow under -the dark horizon which deepened in a moment into pink and then into red, -rising in a lofty pyramid. Sparks shot from it. I pointed it out to Sir -William at once. He paused, perplexed. - -"It is a fire, clearly enough," he said; "but I wonder what it can be!" - -His doubt lasted only a moment. An aide, much excited, galloped up and -informed us that the cantonments of the troops to the southward had been -set on fire, and were now burning fiercely. - -"An accident?" asked Sir William, deeply annoyed. - -"The men are sure that it was caused by the rebels," replied the aide. - -"There is nothing to be done but to put it out as best you can," replied -Sir William, and he began to give instructions; but even as he spoke the -report of rifle-shots came from a point a little farther to the north, -distant yet distinct, sounding so far away like the popping of a hickory -log under the flames. There were red sparks too, no bigger than -fire-flies, and both the cracking noises and the sparks increased. Sir -William stopped his horse and gazed anxiously at the little red flashes. - -"An attack by the rebels, and at this of all times," he said in tones of -great annoyance, but to himself rather than to us. It was not likely -that our ragged little army could storm fortified Philadelphia and -defeat the powerful and far more numerous force that defended it; but -Sir William was so much engrossed with the pursuit of Wildfoot that he -resented any interference demanding his attention. He swore again in his -wrath. - -"Catron," he said, "you must go at once to that point. If the force -there is not sufficient, hurry forward these." - -He began to name regiments that would be available. - -Catron galloped away, and before the sound of his horse's hoofs had -died, more rifle-shots were heard still farther to the northward, coming -from a point entirely new. The fire quickly blazed up there like a -flame in a tinder dry forest, indicating another attack, heavier perhaps -than the first. We paused, uncertain which way to go; and while we -hesitated, the attack developed at a fourth point far to the southward, -some of the ships in the river replying, the deep boom of the cannon -rising like the notes of a funeral bell above the crackle of the -musketry. A hum sprang up too from Philadelphia, the alarm of the people -deepening as the firing seemed to spread and ring them around. They -feared another battle fought almost at their doors, like that of -Germantown. The cantonments, mostly light wooden structures, burned -brightly, adding to the alarm, and casting a glow over the hurrying -regiments. I confess, American as I was, and much as I should have -enjoyed the doubts of the British, that I, too, was in a daze. My own -peculiar position was assuming most perplexing phases. - -"If I only knew what this meant!" exclaimed Sir William. "Perhaps, after -all, I can leave my men to brush off those rebels while I continue my -search for Wildfoot." - -His eagerness to capture the partisan seemed to increase, and I did not -wonder at it. I should have felt the same way in his place. We were -joined at this moment by more officers, among whom I saw Belfort and -Schwarzfelder. The German's face was inflamed by drink, and his talk was -full of warlike fury. It died, however, when Sir William looked towards -him, although it was Belfort's hand on his arm that warned him to make -less noise. - -Another light flamed up at the central point of attack, and one of the -officers stated that it was a farmhouse occupied as quarters by the -troops, evidently set on fire, like the other cantonments, by the -rebels. The rapid br-r-r of the rifle-shots there indicated that it was -the heaviest point of attack. - -This seemed to decide Sir William, and he rode towards the farmhouse, -ordering us to follow. I looked back and saw the lights of the city -twinkling behind us, and I felt sure that Wildfoot and his comrades lay -hidden there, perhaps in the houses of trusty patriots. The attack at -this particular time was either a lucky chance, or part of a clever -scheme, and my admiration of the man, always great, increased. We -approached the scene of the combat, and the volume of the firing swelled -rapidly, the shouts of the combatants coming to our ears; yet we could -see but little of the battle. The night was dark, and the assailing -force which had driven back the pickets was sheltered by a rail fence -standing within the original British lines. The little jets of flame ran -along the fence for some hundreds of yards, but the Americans remained -invisible. None could even make a guess at their numbers. - -"Stop, Sir William!" exclaimed Belfort, suddenly. "Let us dispose of -these skirmishers before you advance." - -Belfort never lacked courage, and his remark was well-timed. I heard the -br-r-r of a bullet over our heads, and then another, and then many -others. Two men were struck the next instant, and a horse was killed. It -was obviously not the place of the commander-in-chief to ride into such -a hornet's nest, and he drew off a bit. An unusually heavy volley burst -from the fence, and the British pickets were driven back. The officers -with us gathered up the fugitives, and led them in a charge. - -"Stay with me, Melville," said Sir William to me. "I shall want you for -despatches." - -I was devoutly thankful for his order, not being willing to join in a -charge against my own countrymen, and I sat willingly on my horse beside -him. I was of the opinion that the attack of the British would fail, as -they were in too small force, and should have waited for the regiments -which were coming up rapidly. - -All the officers were on horseback save the one whose mount had been -shot from beneath him, and a bulky figure which I recognized even in the -dark as Schwarzfelder's led the van. The German, for all I knew, was a -brave man; but the wine that he had been drinking was now more potent in -bringing him on and putting him in the foremost place. - -The attacking force of English numbered about a hundred, and, despite -their scanty numbers, they rushed forward with the greatest gallantry, -shouting to each other and uttering a hearty cheer. The top of the fence -burst into a long streak of flame, and the crack of many rifles together -made a heavy crash, followed by an irregular crackle, as more rifles -were fired. All but a few in the front ranks of the attacking column -were cut down, and those in the rear still pushing on, dropped fast -before the deliberate fire of the concealed sharpshooters. - -"It's a trap," I said to Sir William; "the English are sure to be -beaten." - -We heard a rapid drum behind us, and the footsteps of an advancing -regiment; but they would be too late to save the forlorn hope charging -the fence. The crackling fire swelled again into a volley, and the red -blur made by the uniforms of the advancing English became dimmer. I -heard a groan beside me. It was Vivian, pale and weak, with a limply -hanging arm, who had ridden up. - -"They will all be killed," he said. - -The charging force was now approaching the fence, and always in the van -was the bulky figure of Schwarzfelder, bestriding his horse, man and -beast apparently alike untouched, the German brandishing a huge sword, -and shouting as if he were possessed by a demon. - -"Certainly Schwarzfelder is brave," muttered Sir William, who perhaps -remembered the night that I had cast the German out of his quarters. The -forlorn hope was almost at the fence, and then the fire of the riflemen -increased rapidly. Many of the English fell, and the few who were left, -unable to stand such a leaden sleet, turned and ran, as they should have -done long before, all except Schwarzfelder, who rode straight at the -fence. - -Then I saw an unusual thing. Two men, evidently large and powerful, and -at the distance the first looked to me remarkably like Wildfoot, sprang -over the fence and seized Schwarzfelder from either side. Then, while -one tore the sword from his hand, the other, the one who looked like -Wildfoot, sprang up behind him, and, holding him around the waist, -jumped the horse over the low fence. Then we heard the distant thud of -hoofs as they disappeared in the darkness. - -"What an insult to Hessian dignity!" said Vivian beside me. Then he -added in a low voice, that Sir William might not hear: "There's an end -to your duel, Melville. The gods are surely unwilling for you to fight." - -When the regiment advancing to the relief reached the fence, the -Americans were gone and no one could discover where. The attack at the -other points ceased almost simultaneously, and the fires burned out -slowly. The search for Wildfoot in the city was continued, but no trace -of him could be found, and, eating his heart out in his anger, Sir -William returned to his quarters. - - - - -CHAPTER SIXTEEN--_A Rebuke for Waters_ - - -The next day was a gloomy one in Philadelphia, which was then largely a -British town, not only because of the army of occupation, but because -most of the patriot population had gone away, leaving the Tories in -possession. The feelings of all were hurt by Wildfoot's extraordinary -daring, his easy disappearance with his men, and the utter lack of -respect he had shown for the commander-in-chief. Men said: "What if he -had really carried off Sir William! What an irregular mode of warfare!" -They repeated that they did not fear the American armies, but that they -did object to an antagonist who appeared at such unexpected moments and -in such an unexpected manner; the irregularity of the thing was what -they especially disliked. - -A number of us visited Vivian at his quarters as soon as we could obtain -leave, and condoled with him over his wound. But he was suffering little -pain, and reckoned the bandage upon his arm a badge of distinction. So -we gave him our congratulations instead of our condolences. - -"I should have been glad to have had the other arm broken, if thereby we -could have captured Wildfoot," he said. The words were spoken without -affectation, and we knew that he meant them. - -Belfort was there too, and he was gloomy, despite the fact that he had -been commended by Sir William for gallantry in action. Vivian rallied -him on his looks. - -"It is because our luck is bad," replied Belfort. "That prisoner who -might have told things of importance has disappeared completely, and -Wildfoot seems to be able to enter the city, do what he pleases, and -then disappear with impunity. I am of the opinion that there are -traitors in Philadelphia." - -"If you mean rebels, of course there are," said Vivian; "all of us know -that, but they are in a great minority." - -"I don't mean rebels precisely, at least not self-confessed rebels," -replied Belfort. - -"Then whom do you mean?" said the sprightly Marcel; "if you mean Sir -William, or Vivian there, who has a rebel bullet through his arm, or my -chum Melville and myself, who arrived in Philadelphia amidst a leaden -shower, or our lamented friend Schwarzfelder, who rode his own horse -among the rebels, and a truly gallant sight he was--why speak out in the -name of justice and the king." - -Belfort flushed with vexation. There was no adequate reply that he could -make, whatever his thoughts might be. But after some hesitation he -said,-- - -"I am glad that you mentioned Schwarzfelder. Why should he disappear at -such a time, literally kidnapped, as that bandit wished to kidnap Sir -William?" - -"It seems to me that Schwarzfelder is irrelevant," interrupted Vivian. -"At least he has no connection with these rebel disappearances. He was -to fight a duel with Melville, and scarcely can you charge that Melville -bribed Wildfoot to come here and carry him off, in order to escape the -duel, especially when Wildfoot treated Melville with excessive -discourtesy, binding him to a table and thrusting an unfeeling gag into -his mouth." - -"I don't mean to impeach Melville's courage," said Belfort, hastily. "I -spoke merely of the singularity of these events." - -Our little party was broken up presently by orders from Sir William -which gave us all work to do. It seemed that he was seized with another -spasm of energy, and he resumed the search of the city for both Wildfoot -and Alloway. He was not at all sure that Wildfoot had succeeded in -joining the rebels who made the attack the night before, and fancied he -might still be hidden in the city. So there was a great hunt for him, -and my part of it was of an exceedingly unpleasant nature. I was to go -to the Desmond house, search it again, and address various penetrating -interrogations to the owner thereof. - -I acquitted myself in the best style of which I was capable. I found -both John Desmond and his daughter in the house, and, much to my -surprise, he answered all my questions quite readily and politely. I -thought that his courtesy was due, perhaps, to the presence of his -daughter at his elbow, but both search and examination, as before, -revealed nothing. - -As I was returning to Sir William's quarters to report the fruitless -task, I met Waters. I would have passed him without notice, but he -said,-- - -"I take it that it was again a fruitless search at Mr. Desmond's house, -was it not, sir?" - -This savored most strongly of impertinence in one of his rank, and I -felt anger. I disliked his incessant watch of Marcel and me, and in -spite of my belief that he either knew or suspected us, caution was -swallowed up in wrath. - -"Waters," I said, "your question was impertinent and your tone -insolent." - -He did not apologize as he had done before, but held up his head and his -bold eyes looked steadily into mine. - -"All the city, sir, is talking of this Wildfoot, and every loyal man -wants him captured. The wish is as strong among us of a lower rank as it -is among those of a higher." - -I thought that I saw a peculiar significance in his words, and I would -have given much to keep down the flush that reddened my face. - -"What do you mean to intimate, Waters?" I asked. - -"Nothing," he replied. "You are pleased, sir, to dislike me, although I -do not know why, and to become angry because I ask you about the search -of Mr. Desmond's house, a task which I felt sure was most unwelcome to -you." - -His eyes did not flinch as he said these bold words, and manner and -words alike confirmed my long felt fear that he knew me to be an -impostor. I hesitated a little, uncertain what course to take, and then, -turning scornfully from him, marched on with my men. - - - - -CHAPTER SEVENTEEN--_Great News_ - - -As neither Marcel nor I was assigned to any duty for the remainder of -the day, we thought to while away a portion of the time by strolling -about Philadelphia. - -"We need not make spies of ourselves," said Marcel; "but I know no -military law against the gratification of our own personal curiosity." - -Guided by such worthy motives, we spent some time that was to our -amusement and perhaps to our profit also. Barring the presence of the -soldiery, Philadelphia showed few evidences that war was encamped upon -its threshold. I have seldom witnessed a scene of such bustle and -animation, and even of gayety too, as the good Quaker City presented. A -stranger would have thought there was no war, and that this was merely a -great garrison town. - -The presence of fifteen or twenty thousand soldiers was good for trade, -and gold clinked with much freedom and merriment. Though wagon-trains of -provisions were taken sometimes by the Americans, yet many others came -safely into Philadelphia, and the profits were so large that the worthy -Pennsylvania farmers could not resist the temptation to take the risks, -though most of them would have preferred to sell to the patriots, had -the latter possessed something better than Continental paper to offer -them. - -"The British boast much of their bayonets," said Marcel; "but they fight -better with their gold." - -"And we have neither," said I. - -"Which merely means," said Marcel, "not that we shall not win, but that -we will be longer in the winning." - -Our conversation was diverted from this topic by my observance of a -peculiar circumstance. Often I would see four or five men, gathered at a -street corner or in front of a doorway, talking with an appearance of -great earnestness. Whenever Marcel and I, who were in full uniform, and -thus were known to be British officers as far as we could be seen, -approached, they would lower their tone or cease to talk. This had not -happened on any day before, and was not what we would have expected from -citizens who had grown used to the presence of the British army. I asked -Marcel to take note of it. - -"Something unusual that they do not wish to tell us of has happened," he -said. "I propose that we find out what it is." - -"How?" I said. - -"I know no better way than to ask," he replied. "Suppose we seize the -very next opportunity, and interrogate our Quaker friends concerning the -cause of their strange and mysterious behavior." - -Presently we saw four men engaged in one of these discussions. Three -appeared to be citizens of Philadelphia, or at least we so judged from -the smartness of their dress; the fourth had the heavy, unkempt look of -a countryman. We approached; on the instant they became silent, and -there was a look of embarrassment upon their faces. - -"Friends," said Marcel, in his courtly manner, "we wish not to interrupt -your most pleasant discourse, but we would ask what news of importance -you have, if there be no harm in the telling of it." - -"It rained last night," said the countryman, "and it is good for the -spring planting." - -"Yet one might have news more interesting, though not perhaps more -important, than that," replied Marcel; "for it has rained before, and -the crops have been planted and reaped likewise before." - -"Even so," said the countryman, "but its importance increases when there -are twenty thousand red-coats in Philadelphia to be fed." - -"But is that the whole burden of your news?" asked Marcel. "We have seen -others talk together as you four talk together, and we do not think it -accords with nature for all Philadelphia to be agog because it rained -the night before." - -"Some heads hold strange opinions," said the countryman, curtly; "but -why should I be held to account for them?" - -So saying, he walked off with his companions. - -"You can't draw blood from a turnip," said Marcel, "nor the truth from a -man who has decided not to tell it." - -"Not since the torture-chamber was abolished," I said, "and I would even -guess that this countryman is no very warm friend to the British, from -the insolent tone that he adopted towards us." - -"And I would guess also that his news, whatever it may be, is something -that will not be to the taste of the British, or he would tell it to -us," said Marcel. - -But we were not daunted by one repulse, and we decided to try elsewhere. -From another little group to which we addressed ourselves we received -treatment perhaps not quite so discourteous, but as unproductive of the -desired result. All this we took as further proof that there was in -reality something of importance afoot. At last we went into a little -eating-house where strong liquors also were sold. - -"Perhaps if we moisten their throats for them," said Marcel, "they may -become less secretive. It is a cure I have rarely known to fail." - -There were eight or ten men in this place, some citizens of the town and -some countrymen. - -"What news?" I asked of one who leaned against the counter. "There seems -to be a stir about the town, and we ask its cause." - -"You are British officers," he replied. "The British hold this town. You -should know more than we." - -"But this town has a population of such high intelligence," I said, -thinking to flatter him, "that it learns many things before we do." - -"If you admit that," he said, "then I can tell you something." - -"Ah! what is it?" I asked, showing eagerness. - -"Perhaps you may not like to hear it," he said, "but Sir William Howe -was nearly carried off last night by Wildfoot." - -Then all of them laughed in sneering fashion. - -"I was afraid you would not like my news," said the man, pretending of a -sudden to be very humble; "but you would not be satisfied until I told -it, and so I had to tell it." - -"We must even try elsewhere," said Marcel. - -Marcel was a jester, but, like most other jesters, he did not like a -jest put upon himself. So we left the eating-house, and as we went out -we saw the man Waters coming towards us. As I have often said, I did not -like this fellow, and moreover I feared we had reason to dread him, but -I thought he could tell us what we wished to know, as he had such a -prying temper. - -He saluted us with much politeness, and stopped when I beckoned to him. -The men in the eating-house had all come to the door. - -"Good-morning, Waters," I said. "Can you tell us what interests the -people of this city so much, the news that we have been seeking in vain -to learn? Here are gentlemen who have something that they would cherish -and keep to themselves like a lady's favor." - -"It would scarce be proper for me, who am but an orderly, to announce -weighty matters to your honors," said the man, with a most aggravating -look of humility. The loungers who had come to the door laughed. - -"We will overlook that," said Marcel, who kept his temper marvellously -well. "But tell us, is not the town really in a stir as it seems to be?" - -"It is, your honors," said Waters, "and it has cause for it." - -The loungers laughed again; but I did not mind it now, as I was eager to -hear what Waters had to say. - -"Let us have this mighty secret," I said. - -"I fear your honors will not like it," replied Waters. - -"Never mind about that," I said, impatiently. "I do not believe that it -amounts to anything at all." - -"It is only that the King of France has joined the Americans and -declared war on the English," said Waters. - -For a moment I could scarce restrain a shout of joy. There had been talk -for some time about a French alliance, but we had been disappointed so -often that we had given up hope of it. Now the news had come with the -suddenness of a thunder-clap. I believe that Marcel felt as I did, but -it was of high importance that we should keep our countenances. - -"Whence did you get such a report as that?" I asked, affecting to treat -it with contempt and unbelief. - -"From the people of the city," replied Waters. - -"Where did they get it?" asked Marcel. - -"I think it was brought in from the American army," replied the man, -"and if your honor will pardon me for saying it, there is no doubt -whatever about its truth." - -"King George will now have two enemies to fight instead of one, and he -has not whipped the first," said one of the loungers. - -"Fear not that his armies will not be equal to the emergency," said I, -thinking it needful to preserve my character as a British officer. - -"Then they will have to do something more than feast and dance in this -city," said the bold fellow. The others murmured their approval and -applause, and Marcel and I, bidding them to beware how they talked -treason, strolled on. - -"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news," said Waters, humbly. - -"King Louis and the Americans are responsible for the news, not you," -said Marcel. "Still, we thank you for narrating it to us." - -His tone was that of curt dismissal, and Waters, accepting it, left us. -Marcel and I looked at each other, and Marcel said:-- - -"If we were able, half-armed, untrained, and unaided, to take one -British army at Saratoga, what ought we not to do now with King Louis's -regulars to help us, and King Louis's arsenals to arm us?" - -"The alliance suggests many things," I said, "and one in particular to -you and me." - -"What is that?" asked Marcel. - -"That we leave Philadelphia at once, or at least as soon as we can find -an opportunity," I replied, "and rejoin our army. This should portend -great events, perhaps a decisive campaign, and if that be true we ought -to share it with our comrades." - -"Without denying the truth of what you say," replied Marcel, "we -nevertheless cannot leave the city to-day, so we might as well enjoy the -leisure the gods have allotted to us. The counting-house of our rich -patriot, old John Desmond, is on this street. Perhaps he has not heard -the news, and if we were the first to tell it to him he might forgive -our apparent British character, though I fear it would be but small -recommendation to his handsome Tory daughter." - -We entered the counting-house, where Mr. Desmond still contrived to earn -fair profits despite the British occupation. Our British uniforms -procured for us a certain amount of respect and deference from the -clerks and attendants, but the stern old man, who would not bend to Sir -William Howe himself, only glowered at us when we came into his -presence. - -"I fear I can give you but little time to-day, gentlemen," he said, with -asperity, "though I acknowledge the honor of your visit." - -"We are not in search of a loan," said Marcel, lightly, "but came merely -to ask you if you had any further particulars of the great news which -must be so pleasing to you, though I admit that it is less welcome to -us." - -"The news? the great news? I have no news, either great or small," said -Mr. Desmond, not departing from his curt and stiff manner. - -"Haven't you heard it?" said Marcel, with affected surprise. "All the -people in the city are talking about it, and we poor Britons expect to -begin hard service again immediately." - -"Your meaning is still strange to me," said Mr. Desmond. - -"It's the French alliance that I mean," said Marcel. "We have received -positive news this morning that King Louis of France and Mr. Washington -of America, in virtue of a formal treaty to that effect, propose to -chastise our master, poor King George." - -I had watched Mr. Desmond's face closely, that I might see how he took -the news. But not a feature changed. Perhaps he was sorry that he had -yielded to his feelings at the recent banquet, and was now undergoing -penance. But, whatever the cause, he asked merely, in a quiet voice,-- - -"Then you know that the King of France has espoused the American cause -and will help General Washington with his armies and fleets?" - -"Undoubtedly," replied Marcel. - -"Then this will be interesting news for my daughter, though she will not -like it," he said. He opened the door of an inner room, called, and Miss -Desmond came forth. - -She looked inquiringly at us, and then spoke with much courtesy. We -returned the compliments of the day in a manner that we thought -befitting highborn Britons and conquerors in the presence of sympathetic -beauty. I took pride to myself too, because my affair with Belfort had -ended as she wished. It seemed to give me a claim upon her. But I -observed with some chagrin that neither our manners nor our appearance -seemed to make much impression upon Miss Desmond. - -"Daughter," said Mr. Desmond, in the same expressionless tone that he -had used throughout the interview, "these young gentlemen have been -kind enough to bring us the news that France and the colonies have -signed a formal treaty of alliance for offensive and defensive purposes. -The information reached Philadelphia but this morning. I thought it -would interest you." - -I watched her face closely, as I had watched that of her father, -expecting to see joy on the father's, sorrow on the daughter's. But they -could not have been freer from the appearance of emotion if they had -planned it all before. - -"This will complicate the struggle, I should think," she said, dryly, -"and it will increase your chances, Captain Montague and Lieutenant -Melville, to win the epaulets of a colonel." - -"We had expected," I said, "that Miss Desmond, a sincere friend of our -cause, would express sorrow at this coalition which is like to prove so -dangerous to us." - -"My respect to my father, who does not believe as I do, forbids it," she -said. "But I think the king's troops and his officers, all of them, will -be equal to every emergency." - -We bowed to the compliment, and, there being no further excuse for -lingering, departed, patriot father and Tory daughter alike thanking us -for our consideration in bringing them the news. - -"The lady is very beautiful," said Marcel, when we had left the -counting-house, "but she sits in the shadow of the North Pole." - -"Self-restraint," I said, "is a good quality in woman as well as in -man." - -"I see," said Marcel. "It is not very hard to forgive treason when the -traitor is a woman and beautiful." - -"I do not know what you mean," I said, with frigidity. - -"It does not matter," he replied. "I know." - - - - -CHAPTER EIGHTEEN--_The Silent Sentinel_ - - -I doubted not that the news of the French alliance would incite Sir -William Howe to activity, for any fool could see that, with his splendid -army, splendidly equipped, he had allowed his chances to go to ruin. -There was increasing talk, and of a very definite nature too, about his -removal from the chief command. So far as the subalterns knew, his -successor might have been appointed already, and this would be an -additional inducement to Sir William to attempt some sudden blow which -would shed glory over the close of his career in America, and leave -about him the odor of success and not of failure. - -My surmise was correct in all particulars, for both Marcel and I were -ordered to report for immediate duty, and though this cut off all chance -of escape for that day, we had no choice but to obey. We found an -unusually large detachment gathered under the command of a general -officer. Belfort, Barton, Moore, and others whom we knew were there; -but, inquire as we would, we could not ascertain the nature of the -service for which we were designed. In truth, no one seemed to know -except the general himself, and he was in no communicative mood. But -there was a great overhauling of arms and a very careful examination of -the ammunition supply. So I foresaw that the expedition was to be of -much importance. - -"Perhaps it will be another such as the attempt to capture our -brother-in-arms Mr. Wildfoot," said Marcel. - -"If we come out of this as well as we did out of that," I replied, "we -will have a right to think that Fortune has us in her especial keeping." - -"Dame Fortune is kindest to those who woo her with assiduity," said -Marcel, "and she cannot complain of us on that point." - -But I knew how fickle the lady is, even towards those who woo her -without ceasing, and I was uneasy. - -The detachment had gathered in the suburbs, and we were subjected to a -long period of waiting there. I also learned that no one was to be -allowed to pass from the city during the day, and from this circumstance -I inferred that Sir William was building great hopes upon the matter -which he had in hand, and which he had placed under the direction of one -of his ablest generals. I would have given much to know what it was, but -I was as ignorant as the drummer-boy who stood near me. It was not until -dusk that we marched, and then we started forth, a fine body, four -thousand strong,--a thousand horse and three thousand foot. - -"If there is a time for it to-night," I said to Marcel, when the -opportunity came for us to speak together in secrecy, "I shall leave -these people with whom we have no business, and return to those to whom -we belong." - -"And I," said Marcel, with one of his provoking grins, "shall watch over -you with paternal care, come what may." - -The night was half day. A full silver moon turned the earth--forests, -fields, and houses--into that peculiar shimmering gray color which makes -one feel as if one were dwelling in a ghost-world that may dissolve into -mist at any moment. Our long column was colored the same ghostly gray by -the moon. There were no sounds, save the steady tramp of the men and the -horses, and the occasional clank of the bayonets together. - -I did not like this preternatural silence, this evidence of supreme -caution. It warned me of danger to my countrymen, and again I wished in -my soul that I knew what business we were about. But there was naught to -do save to keep my mouth shut and my eyes open. - -We followed one of the main roads out of Philadelphia for some distance, -and then turned into a narrower path, along which the detachment had -much difficulty in preserving its formation. This part of the country -was strange to me, and I did not believe that we were proceeding in the -direction of the American encampment. Still, it was obvious that a heavy -blow against the Americans was intended. - -As the hours passed, clouds came before the moon, and the light waned. -The long line of men ahead of me sank into the night so gradually that I -could not tell where life ended and darkness began, and still there was -no sound but the regular tread of man and beast and the clanking of -arms. My sense of foreboding increased. How heartily I wished that I had -never come into Philadelphia! I silently cursed Marcel for leading me -into the adventure. Then I cursed myself for attempting to throw all the -blame on Marcel. - -The night was advancing, when we came to a long, narrow valley, thickly -wooded at one end. We halted there, and the general selected about three -hundred men and posted them in the woods at the head of the valley. I -was among the number, but I observed with regret that Marcel was not. A -colonel was placed in command. Then the main army followed a curving -road up the hill-side and went out of sight over the heights. I watched -them for some time before they disappeared, horse and foot, steadily -tramping on, blended into a long, continuous, swaying mass by the gray -moonlight; sometimes a moonbeam would tip the end of a bayonet with -silver and gleam for a moment like a falling star. At last the column -wound over the slope and left the night to us. - -About one-third of our little force were cavalrymen; but, under the -instructions of our colonel, we dismounted and gave our horses into the -care of a few troopers; then all of us moved into the thick woods at the -head of the pass, and sat down there, with orders to keep as quiet as -possible. - -I soon saw that the rising ground and the woods which crowned it merely -formed a break between the valley which we had entered at first and -another valley beyond it. The latter we were now facing. I had not been -a soldier for two years and more for nothing, and I guessed readily that -we were to keep this pass clear, while the main force was to perform the -more important operation, which I now doubted not was to be the -entrapping of some large body of Americans. Perhaps in this number was -to be included the general-in-chief himself, the heart and soul of our -cause. I shuddered at the thought, and again cursed the reckless spirit -that had placed me in such a position. - -At first we had the second valley in view; but our colonel, fearing that -we might expose ourselves, drew us farther back into the woods, and then -we could see nothing but the trees and the dim forms of each other. - -I looked up at the moon, and hoped to see the clouds gathering more -thickly before her face. I had confirmed my resolution. If the chance -came to me, I would steal away from the English and enter the valley -beyond. I doubted not that I would find my own people there. I would -warn them of the danger, and remain with them in the future, unless fate -should decree that I become a prisoner. - -But Dame Fortune was in no such willing humor. The clouds did not gather -in quantities, and, besides, the English were numerous around me. -Belfort himself sat on the grass only a few feet from me, and, with more -friendliness than he had shown hitherto, undertook to talk to me in -whispers. - -"Do you know what we are going to do to-night, Melville?" he asked. - -"It seems," I said, "that we are to sit here in the woods until morning, -and then to be too hoarse with cold to talk." - -Then I added, having the after-thought that I might secure some -information from him,-- - -"I suppose we are after important game to-night. The size of our force -and the care and secrecy of our movements indicate it, do they not?" - -"There is no doubt of it," he replied, "and I hope we shall secure a -royal revenge upon the rebels for that Wildfoot affair." - -Our conversation was interrupted here by an order from the colonel for -me to move farther towards the front, from which point I was to report -to him at once anything unusual that I might see or hear. The men near -me were common soldiers. They squatted against the trees with their -muskets between their knees, and waited in what seemed to me to be a -fair degree of content. - -An hour, a very long hour, of such waiting passed, and the colonel -approached me, asking if all was quiet. I supplemented my affirmative -reply with some apparently innocent questions which I thought would draw -from him the nature of his expectations. But he said nothing that -satisfied me. As he was about to turn away, I thought I heard a movement -in the woods in front of us. It was faint, but it resembled a footfall. - -"Colonel," I said, in a hurried whisper, "there is some movement out -there." - -At the same moment one of the soldiers sprang to his feet and -exclaimed,-- - -"There is somebody coming down on us!" - -"Be quiet, men," said the colonel. "Whoever it is, he stops here." - -Scarce had he spoken the words when we heard the rush of many feet. The -woods leaped into flame; the bullets whistled like hailstones around our -ears. By the flash I saw the head of one of the soldiers who was still -sitting down fall over against a tree, and a red streak appear upon his -forehead. He uttered no cry, and I knew that he was dead. - -For a few moments I stood quite still, as cold and stiff as if I had -turned to ice. There is nothing, as I have said before, that chills the -heart and stops its flow like a sudden surprise. That is why veterans -when fired upon in the dark will turn and run sometimes as if pursued by -ghosts. - -Then my faculties returned, and I shouted,-- - -"Back on the main body! Fall back for help!" - -The colonel and the men, who like me had been seized by surprise, sprang -back. Almost in a breath I had formed my resolution, and I ran, neither -forward nor back, but to one side. When I had taken a dozen quick steps, -I flung myself upon my face. As I did so, the second volley crashed over -my head, and was succeeded by yells of wrath and pain. - -"At them, boys! At them!" shouted a loud voice that was not the English -colonel's. "Drive the bloody scoundrels off the earth!" - -I doubted not that the voice belonged to the leader of the attacking -party. I arose and continued my flight. Behind me I heard the British -replying to the fire of the assailants, and the other noises of the -struggle. The shots and the shouts rose high. I knew that I was -following no noble course just then, that I was flying alike from the -force to which I pretended to belong, and from the force to which I -belonged in reality; but I saw nothing else to do, and I ran, while the -combat raged behind. I was in constant fear lest some sharpshooter of -either party should pick me off, but my luck was better than my hopes, -and no bullet pursued me in my flight. - -When I thought myself well beyond the vortex of the combat, I dropped -among the bushes for breath and to see what was going on behind me. I -could not hear the cries so well now, but the rapid flashing of the guns -was proof enough that the attack was fierce and the resistance the same. - -As I watched, my sense of shame increased. I ought to be there with the -Americans who were fighting so bravely. For a moment I was tempted to -steal around and endeavor to join them. But how could I fire upon the -men with whom I had been so friendly and who had looked upon me as one -of their own but ten minutes ago? I was no crawling spy. Then, again, I -was in full British uniform, and of course the patriots would shoot me -the moment they caught sight of me. Richly, too, would I deserve the -bullet. Again there was naught for me to do but to resort to that -patient waiting which I sometimes think is more effective in this world -than the hardest kind of work. And well it may be, too, for it is a more -trying task. - -I could not tell how the battle was going. So far as the firing was -concerned, neither side seemed to advance or retreat. The flashes and -the shots increased in rapidity, and then both seemed to converge -rapidly towards a common centre. Of a sudden, at the very core of the -combat there was a tremendous burst of sound, a great stream of light -leaped up and then sank. The firing died away in a feeble crackle, and -then I knew that the battle was over. But which side had won was a -question made all the more perplexing to me by my inability to decide -upon a course of conduct until I could learn just what had happened. - -As I listened, I heard a single shot off in the direction from which the -Americans had come. Then they had been beaten, after all. But at the -very moment my mind formed the conclusion, I heard another shot in the -neck of the valley up which the British had marched. Then the British -had been beaten. But my mind again corrected itself. The two shots -offset each other, and I returned to my original state of ignorance and -uncertainty. - -My covert seemed secure, and, resorting again to patience, I determined -to lie there for a while and await the course of events. Perhaps I would -hear more shots, which would serve as a guide to me. But another -half-hour passed away, and I heard nothing. All the clouds had fled from -the face of the moon, and the night grew brighter. The world turned from -gray to silver, and the light slanted through the leaves. A lizard -rattled over a fallen trunk near me, and, saving his light motion, the -big earth seemed to be asleep. Readily could I have imagined that I was -some lone hunter in the peaceful woods, and that no sound of anger or -strife had ever been heard there. The silence and the silver light of -the moon falling over the forest, and even throwing streaks across my -own hands overpowered me. Though knowing full well that it was the -truth, I had to make an effort of the will to convince myself that the -attack, my flight, and the battle were facts. Then the rustling of the -lizard, though I could not see him, was company to me, and I hoped he -would not go away and leave me alone in that vast and heavy silence. - -At last I fell to reasoning with myself. I called myself a coward, a -child, to be frightened thus of the dark, when I had faced guns; and by -and by this logic brought courage back. I knew I must take action of -some kind, and not die there until the day found me cowering like a fox -in the shelter of the woods. I had my sword at my side, and a loaded -pistol was thrust in my belt. In the hands of a brave man they should be -potent for defence. - -Without further ado, I began my cautious journey. It was my purpose to -proceed through the pass into the second valley and find the Americans, -if still they were there. Then, if not too late, I would warn them of -the plan against them, that this was not merely the raid of a few -skirmishers, but a final attempt. Success looked doubtful. It depended -upon the fulfilment of two conditions: first, that the Americans had not -been entrapped already, and, second, that I should find them. Still, I -would try. I stopped and listened intently for the booming of guns and -other noises of conflict in the valley below, but no sound assailed my -ears. I renewed my advance, and practised a precaution which was of the -utmost necessity. For the present I scarce knew whether to consider -myself English or American, and in the event of falling in with either I -felt that I would like to make explanations before any action was taken -concerning me. I stood up under the shadow of the big trees and looked -around me. But there was naught that I could see. Englishmen and -Americans alike seemed to have vanished like a wisp of smoke before the -wind. Then with my hand on my pistol, I passed on from tree to tree, -stopping ofttimes to listen and to search the wood with my eyes for -sight of a skulking sharpshooter. Thus I proceeded towards the highest -point of the gorge. The crest once reached, I expected that I would -obtain a good view of the valley beyond, and thus be able to gather -knowledge for my journey. - -As I advanced, my opinion that the wood was now wholly deserted was -confirmed. Victor and vanquished alike had vanished, I felt sure, -carrying with them the wounded and the dead too. After a bit, and when -almost at the crest, I came to an open space. I walked boldly across it, -although the moon's light fell in a flood upon it, and as I entered the -belt of trees on the farther side I saw the peak of a fur cap peeping -over a log not forty feet before me. It was a most unpleasant surprise, -this glimpse of the hidden sharpshooter; and, with the fear of his -bullet hot upon me, I sprang for the nearest tree and threw myself -behind it. - -I was too quick for him, for the report of no rifle lent speed to my -flying heels, and I sank, empty of breath, but full of thanks, behind -the sheltering tree. Brief as had been my glimpse of that fur cap, I -knew it, or rather its kind. It was the distinguishing mark of Morgan's -Virginia Rangers, the deadliest sharpshooters in the world. I had seen -their fell work at Saratoga when we beleaguered the doomed British army, -where not a red-coat dared put his foot over the lines, for he knew it -would be the signal for the Virginia rifle to speak from tree or bush. I -do not like such work myself, but I acknowledge its great use. - -Again I gave thanks for my presence of mind and agility of foot, for I -had no wish to be killed, and least of all by one of our own men. - -I lay quite still until my pulses went down and my breath became longer. -I was fearful that the sentinel would attempt some movement, but a -cautious look reassured me. He could not leave his covert behind the log -for other shelter without my seeing him. It was true that I could not -leave the tree, but I did not feel much trouble because of that. I had -no desire to shoot him, while he, without doubt, would fire at me, if -the chance came to him, thinking me to be a British officer. - -The tree grew on ground that was lower than the spot from which I had -seen the sentinel. In my present crouching position he was invisible to -me, and I raised myself carefully to my full height in order that I -might see him again. But even by standing on my toes I could see only -the fur tip of his cap. I could assure myself that he was still there, -but what he was preparing I knew not, nor could I ascertain. Yet I -doubted not that his muscles were ready strung to throw his rifle to the -shoulder and send a bullet into me the moment I stepped from behind the -tree. The unhappy part of my situation lay in the fact that he would -fire before I could make explanations, which would be a most -uncomfortable thing for me, and in all likelihood would make -explanations unnecessary, considering the deadly precision of these -Virginia sharpshooters. Confound them! why should they be so vigilant -concerning me, when there was a British army near by that stood in much -greater need of their watching? But it was not worth while to work -myself into a stew because I had got into a fix. The thing to do was to -get out of it. - -After some deliberation, I concluded that I would hail my friend who was -yet an enemy, or at least in the position of one. I was afraid to shout -to him, for most likely, with his forest cunning, he would think it a -mere device to entrap him into an unwary action that would cost his -life. These wilderness men are not to be deluded in that manner. -However, there might be others lurking near, perhaps British and -Americans both, and either one or the other would take me for an enemy -and shoot me. - -But at last I called in a loud whisper to the sentinel. I said that I -was a friend, though I came in the guise of an enemy. The whisper was -shrill and penetrating, and I was confident that it reached him, for the -distance was not great. But he made no sign. If he heard me he trusted -me not. I think there are times when we can become too cunning, too -suspicious. This I felt with a great conviction to be one of such times. - -As a second experiment, I decided that I would expose my hat or a -portion of my uniform, in the hope that it would draw his fire. Then I -could rush upon him and shout my explanations at him before he could -reload his gun and shoot a second bullet at me. But this attempt was as -dire a failure as the whispering. He was too wary to be caught by such a -trick, with which he had doubtless been familiar for years. - -I almost swore in my vexation at being stopped in such a manner. But -vexation soon gave way to deepening alarm. I could not retreat from the -tree without exposing myself to his fire, and there I was, a prisoner. -As I lay against the tree-trunk, sheltering myself from the -sharpshooter, a bullet fired by some one else might cut my life short at -any moment. I waited some minutes, and again I raised myself up and took -a peep. There he was, crouched behind his log, and still waiting for me. -He seemed scarce to have moved. I knew the illimitable patience of these -forest-bred men, the hours that they could spend waiting for their prey, -immovable like wooden images. I repeat that I had seen them at work at -Saratoga, and I knew their capabilities. I liked not the prospect, and I -had good reason for it. - -The old chill, the old depression, which was born part of the night and -part of my situation, came upon me. I could do naught while my grim -sentinel lay in the path. I knew of no device that would tempt him to -action, to movement. I wearied my brain in the endeavor to think of some -way to form a treaty with him or to tell him who and what I was. At last -another plan suggested itself, I tore off a piece of the white facing of -my uniform, and, putting it on the end of my gun-barrel, thrust it out -as a sign of amity. I waved it about for full five minutes, but the -watcher heeded not; perchance he thought this too was a trick to draw -him from cover, and he would have none of it. Again I cursed excessive -caution and suspicion, but that did me no good, save to serve as some -slight relief to my feelings. - -A strong wind sprang up, and the woods moved with it. The clouds came -again before the moon, and the color of trees and earth faded to an -ashen gray. The light became dimmer, and I felt cold, to the bones. Fear -resumed sway over me, and dry-lipped, I cursed my folly with bitter -curses. - -But the shadows before the moon suggested one last plan to me, a plan -full of danger in the presence of the watchful sentinel, but like to -bring matters to a head. I unbuckled my sword and laid it upon the -ground behind the tree. I also removed everything else of my equipment -or uniform that might make a noise as I moved, and then crept from -behind the tree. I had heard how Indians could steal through the grass -with less noise than a lizard would make, and I had a belief that I -could imitate them, at least to some extent. - -I felt in front of me with my hands, lest I should place the weight of -my body upon some stick that would snap with a sharp report. But there -was only the soft grass, and the faint rustle it made could not reach -the ears of the sentinel, no matter how keen of hearing or attentive he -might be. All the time I kept my eyes upon the log behind which he lay. -Each moment I trembled lest I should see a gun-barrel thrust over the -log and pointed at me. Then it was my purpose to spring quickly aside, -rush upon him, and cry out who I was. - -But the threatening muzzle did not appear. I grew proud of my skill in -being able thus to steal upon one of these rangers, who know the forest -and all its tricks as the merchant knows his wares. Perchance I could -learn to equal them or to surpass them at their own chosen pursuits. I -even stopped to laugh inwardly at the surprise and chagrin this man -would show when I sprang over the log and dropped down beside him, and -he never suspecting, until then, that I was near. Of a truth, I thought, -and this time with a better grace, there could be an excess of caution -and suspicion. - -When I had traversed about half the intervening space, I lay flat upon -my face and listened, but without taking my eyes off the particular -portion of the log over which I feared the gun-muzzle would appear. But -the watcher made no movement, nor could I hear a sound, save that of the -rising wind playing its dirge through the woods. Clearly I was doing my -work well. Bringing my muscles and nerves back to the acutest tension, I -crept on. - -I must have been aided by luck as much as by skill, perhaps more, and I -made acknowledgment of it to myself, for never once did I make a false -movement with hand or foot. No twigs, no dry sticks, the breaking of -which would serve as an alarm, came in my way. All was as smooth and -easy as a silk-covered couch. Fortune seemed to look kindly upon me. - -In two more minutes I had reached the log, and only its foot or two of -diameter lay between me and the sentinel. Complete success had attended -my efforts so far. It only remained for me to do one thing now, but that -was the most dangerous of all. I lay quite still for a moment or two, -drawing easy breaths. Then I drew in a long one, inhaling all the air my -lungs would hold. Stretching every muscle to its utmost tension, and -crying out, "I'm a friend! I'm a friend!" I sprang in one quick bound -over the log. - -I alighted almost upon the ranger as he crouched against the fallen -trunk, the green of his hunting-shirt blending with the grass, and the -gray of his fur cap showing but faintly against the bark of the tree. As -I alighted by his side he moved not. His rifle, which was clutched in -both his hands, remained unraised. His head still rested against the -tree-trunk, though his eyes were wide open. - -I put my hand upon him, and sprang back with a cry of affright that I -could not check. - -The sentinel was dead and cold. - - - - -CHAPTER NINETEEN--_A Ride for the Cause_ - - -When I discovered that I had stalked a dead man as the hunter stalks the -living deer, I was seized with a cold chill, and an icy sweat formed -upon my brow. My muscles, after so much tension, relaxed as if I had -received some sudden and mortal blow, and I fell into a great tremble. - -But this did not last long. I trust that I am not a coward, and I -quickly regained possession of my limbs and my faculties. Then I turned -to the examination of the dead man. He had been shot through the head, -and I judged that he had been dead a good two hours. A stray ball must -have found him as he lay there watching for the enemy and with his rifle -ready. I thought I could still trace the look of the watcher, the eager -attention upon his features. - -I left him as he was, on duty in death as well as in life, and hurried -through the grass, still hoping to reach the Americans in the valley -beyond, in time. - -A second thought caused me to stop. I knew that in the rush and hurry of -the fight our horses must have broken from the men, and perchance might -yet be wandering about the woods. If I could secure one, it would save -much strength and time. I began to look through the woods, for I had -little fear of interruptions now, as I believed that everybody except -the dead and myself had left the pass. My forethought and perseverance -were not without reward, for presently I found one of the horses, -saddled and bridled, and grazing peacefully among the trees. He must -have been lonely, for he whinnied when he saw me, and made no effort to -escape. - -I sprang into the saddle, and was soon riding rapidly into the farther -valley. The slope was not so steep as that up which I had come with the -British, and the woods and the underbrush grew more scantily. There was -sufficient light for me to see that I would soon be on cleared ground, -where I could make good speed and perchance find the object of my search -quickly. - -There was increase to my joy when my horse's foot rang loud and clear, -and, looking down, I saw that I had blundered into a good road. It led -straight away down the valley, and, with a quickening gait, we followed -it, my good horse and I. - -The night brightened somewhat, as if to keep pace with the improvement -of my fortune. I could see fields around me, and sometimes caught -glimpses of houses surrounded by their shade-trees. From one of these -houses a dog came forth and howled at me in most melancholy tune, but I -heeded him not. I rode gayly on, and was even in high enough mood to -break forth into a jovial song, had I thought it wise. Such was my glee -at the thought that I had left the British, had cast off my false -character, and was now about to reassume my old self, the only self that -was natural to me, and take my place among the men with whom I -belonged. - -It was shortly after this that my horse neighed and halted, and, had not -my hand been firm on the reins, he would have turned and looked behind -him. I urged him forward again, but in a few moments he repeated the -same suspicious movement. This caused me to reflect, and I came to the -conclusion that some one was behind us, or my horse would not have acted -in such fashion. I pulled him to a stand-still, and, bending back, heard -with much distinctness the sound of hoof-beats. Nor was it that only; -the hoof-beats were rapid, and could be made only by a horse approaching -with great speed. Even in the brief space that I listened, the -hoof-beats of the galloping horse became much more distinct, and it was -evident to me that if I did not put my horse to his own best speed, or -turn aside into the fields, I would be overtaken. But I had no mind -either to follow the difficult route through the fields or to flee from -a single horseman. My loaded pistol and my sword were in my belt; and, -while I did not wish to slay or wound any one, it did not seem becoming -in me to take to flight. - -I eased my grasp on the bridle-rein and took my pistol in my hand. Then, -twisting myself round in my saddle, and watching for the appearance of -my pursuer, if pursuer it were, I allowed my horse to fall into a walk. - -I knew I would not have long to wait, for in the still night the -hoof-beats were now ringing on the road. Whoever it was, he rode fast -and upon a matter of moment. Presently the figure of the flying horse -and rider appeared dimly. Then they grew more distinct. The rider was -leaning upon his horse's neck, and as they rushed down upon us I saw -that it was a woman. Great was my surprise at the sight. - -My first impulse was to rein aside, but when the woman came within -twenty feet of me she raised her face a little, and then I saw that it -was Mary Desmond, the Tory. Even in that faint light I could see that -her face was strained and anxious, and I was struck with a great -wonderment. - -I turned my horse into the middle of the road, and she was compelled to -rein her own back so suddenly that he nearly fell upon his haunches. - -"Out of my way!" she cried. "Why do you stop me?" - -"I think you will admit, Miss Desmond," I said, "that the meeting is -rather unusual, and that surprise, if nothing else, might justify my -stopping you." - -"Why is it strange that I am here?" she demanded, in a high tone. "Why -is it more strange than your presence here at this time?" - -"I am riding forward to join a detachment of the American army which I -believe is encamped not much farther on," I said. - -In reassuming my proper American character I had forgotten that I still -wore the British garb. - -"Why are you doing that?" she asked, quickly and keenly. - -"I wish to take them a message," I replied. - -"Who are you, and what are you?" she asked, abruptly, turning upon me a -look before which my eyes fell,--"you whose garb is English and speech -American." - -"Whatever I am at other times," I replied, "to-night I am your servant -only." - -"Then," she replied, in a voice that thrilled me, "come with me. I ride -to warn the Americans that they are threatened with destruction." - -"_You!_" I exclaimed, my surprise growing. "_You_ warn them! _You_, the -most bitter of Tories, as bitter as only a woman can be!" - -She laughed a laugh that was half of triumph, half of scorn. - -"I have deceived you too, as I have deceived all the others," she said. -"But I should not boast. The part was not difficult, and I despised it. -Come! we will waste no more time. Ride with me to the American army, if -you are what you have just boasted yourself to be." - -Her voice was that of command, and I had no mind to disobey it. - -"Come," I cried, "I will prove my words." - -"I know the way," she replied. "I will be the guide." - -We galloped away side by side. Many thoughts were flying through my -head. I understood the whole story at once, or thought I did, which -yielded not less of satisfaction to me. She was not the Tory she had -seemed to be, any more than I was the Briton whose uniform I had taken. -Why she had assumed such a _rôle_ it was not hard to guess. Well, I was -glad of it. My spirits mounted to a wonderful degree, past my ability to -account for such a flight. But I bothered myself little about it. -Another time would serve better for such matters. - -The hoof-beats rang on the flinty road, and our horses stretched out -their necks as our pace grew swifter and we fled on through the night. - -"How far do we ride?" I asked. - -"The American encampment is four miles beyond," she said. "The British -force is coming down on the right. Pray God we may get there in time!" - -"Amen!" said I. "But, if we do not, it will not be for lack of haste." - -We passed a cottage close by the roadside. The clatter of our horses' -hoofs aroused its owner, for in those troublous times men slept lightly. -A night-capped head was thrust out of a window, and I even noted the -look of wonderment on the man's face; but we swept by, and the man and -his cottage were soon lost in the darkness behind us. - -"It will take something more than that to stop us to-night," I cried, in -the exuberance of my spirits. - -Miss Desmond's face was bent low over her horses neck, and she answered -me not; but she raised her head and gave me a look that showed the -courage a true woman sometimes has. - -We were upon level ground now, and I thought it wise to check our speed, -for Miss Desmond had ridden far and fast, and her horse was panting. - -"We will not spare the horse," she said. "The lives of the patriots are -more precious." - -"But by sparing the former we have more chance of saving the latter," I -said; and to that argument only would she yield. The advantage of it -was soon seen, for when we increased our speed again the horses -lengthened their stride and their breath came easier. - -"Have you heard the sound of arms?" she asked. "Surely if any attack had -been made we could hear it, even as far as this, in the night." - -"I have heard nothing," I replied, "save the noise made by the galloping -of our own horses. We are not yet too late." - -"No, and we will not be too late at any time," she said, with sudden -energy. "We cannot--we must not be too late!" - -"How strong is the American force?" I asked. - -"Strong enough to save itself, if only warned in time," she replied. - -We came to a shallow brook which trickled peacefully across the road. -Our horses dashed into it, and their flying hoofs sent the water up in -showers. But almost before the drops could fall back into their native -element we were gone, and our horses' hoofs were again ringing over the -stony road. - -Before us stretched a strip of forest, through the centre of which the -road ran. In a few moments we were among the trees. The boughs overhung -the way and shut out half of the moon's light. Beyond, we could see the -open country again, but before we reached it a horseman spurred from the -wood and cried to us to halt, flourishing his naked sword before him. - -We were almost upon him, but on the instant I knew Belfort, and he knew -me. - -"Out of the way!" I cried. "On your life, out of the way!" - -"You traitor! You damned traitor!" he shouted, and rode directly at me. - -He made a furious sweep at my head with his sabre, but I bent low, and -the blade circled over me, whistling as it passed. The next moment, with -full weight and at full speed, my horse struck his, and Belfort's went -down, the shriek from the man and the terrified neigh from the horse, -mingling as they fell. - -With a snort of triumph, my horse leaped clear of the fallen and -struggling mass, and then we were out of the forest, Mary Desmond still -riding by my side, her head bent over her horse's neck as if she were -straining her eyes for a sight of the patriots who were still two miles -and more away. - -"You do not ask me who it was," I said. - -"I know," she replied; "and I heard also what he called you." - -"'Tis true, he called me that," I replied. "But he is in the dust now, -and I still ride!" - -We heard musket-shots behind us, and a bullet whizzed uncomfortably -near. So Belfort had not been alone. In the shock of our rapid collision -I had not had the time to see; but these shots admitted of no doubt. - -"We will be pursued," I said. - -"Then the greater the need of haste," she replied. "We cannot spare our -horses now. There is a straight road before us." - -No more shots were fired at us just then. Our pursuers must have emptied -their muskets; but the clatter of the horses' hoofs told us that they -were hot on the chase. Our own horses were not fresh, but they were of -high mettle, and responded nobly to our renewed calls upon them. Once I -took an anxious look behind me, and saw that our pursuers numbered a -dozen or so. They were riding hard, belaboring their mounts, with hands -and feet, and I rejoiced at the sight, for I knew the great rush at the -start would tell quickly upon them. - -"Will they overtake us?" asked Mary Desmond. - -"It is a matter of luck and speed," I replied, "and I will answer your -question in a quarter of an hour. But remember that, come what may, I -keep my word to you. I am your servant to-night." - -"Even if your self-sought slavery takes you into the American lines?" -she asked. - -"Even so," I replied. "I told you my mission, though you seemed to -believe it not." - -With this the time for conversation passed, and I put my whole attention -upon our flight. My loaded pistol was still in my belt, and if our -pursuers came too near, a bullet whistling among them might retard their -speed. But I held that for the last resort. - -So far as I could see, the men were making no attempt to reload their -muskets, evidently expecting to overtake us without the aid of bullets. -I inferred from this circumstance that Belfort, whom I had disabled, had -been the only officer among them. Otherwise they would have taken better -measures to stop us. Nevertheless they pursued with patience and -seemingly without fear. By and by they fell to shouting. They called -upon us to stop and yield ourselves prisoners. Then I heard one of them -say very distinctly that he did not want to shoot a woman. Mary Desmond -heard it too, for she said,-- - -"I ask no favor because I am a woman. If they should shoot me, ride on -with my message." - -I did not think it wise to reply to this, but spoke encouragingly to her -horse. He was panting again, and his stride was shortening, but his -courage was still high. He was a good horse and true, and deserved to -bear so noble a burden. - -Presently the girl's head fell lower upon the horse's neck, and I called -hastily to her, for I feared that she was fainting. - -"'Twas only a passing weakness," she said, raising her head again. "I -have ridden far to-night; but I can ride farther." - -The road again led through woods, and for a moment I thought of turning -aside into the forest; but reflection showed me that in all likelihood -we would become entangled among the trees, and then our capture would be -easy. So we galloped straight ahead, and soon passed the strip of wood, -which was but narrow. Then I looked back again, and saw that our -pursuers had gained. They were within easy musket-range now, and one of -the men, who had shown more forethought than the others and reloaded his -piece, fired at us. But the bullet touched neither horse nor rider, and -I laughed at the wildness of his aim. A little farther on a second shot -was fired at us, but, like the other, it failed of its mission. - -Now I noted that the road was beginning to ascend slightly and that -farther on rose greater heights. This was matter of discouragement; but -Miss Desmond said briefly that beyond the hill-top the American -encampment lay. If we could keep our distance but a little while now, -her message would be delivered. Even in the hurry of our flight I -rejoiced that the sound of no fire-arms save those of our pursuers had -yet been heard, which was proof that the attack upon the Americans had -not yet been made. - -The road curved a little now and became much steeper. Our pursuers set -up a cry of triumph. They were near enough now for us to hear them -encouraging each other, I could measure the distance very well, and I -saw that they were gaining faster than before. The crest of the hill was -still far ahead. These men must be reminded not to come too near, and I -drew my pistol from my belt. - -As the men came into better view around the curve, I fired at the -leader. It chanced that my bullet missed him, but, what was a better -thing for us, struck his horse full in the head and killed him. The -stricken animal plunged forward, throwing his rider over his head. Two -or three other horsemen stumbled against him, and the entire troop was -thrown into confusion. I struck Miss Desmond's horse across the flank -with my empty pistol, and then treated my own in like fashion. If we -were wise, we would profit by the momentary check of our enemies, and I -wished to neglect no opportunity. Our good steeds answered to the call -as well as their failing strength would permit. The crest of the hill -lay not far before us now, and I felt sure that if we could but reach -it, the British would pursue us no farther. - -But when I thought that triumph was almost achieved, Miss Desmond's -horse began to reel from side to side. He seemed about to fall from -weakness, for, of a truth, he had galloped far that night, and had done -his duty as well as the best horse that ever lived, be it Alexander's -Bucephalus or any other. Even now he strove painfully, and looked up the -hill with distended eyes, as if he knew where the goal lay. His rider -seemed smitten with an equal weakness, but she summoned up a little -remaining strength against it, and raised herself up for the final -struggle. - -"Remember," she said again to me, "if I fail, as most like I will, you -are to ride on with my message." - -"I have been called a traitor to-night," I said, "but I will not be -called the name I would deserve if I were to do that." - -"It is for the cause," she said. "Ride and leave me." - -"I will not leave you," I cried, thrilling with enthusiasm. "We will yet -deliver the message together." - -She said no more, but sought to encourage her horse. The troopers had -recovered from their confusion, and, with their fresher mounts, were -gaining upon us in the most alarming manner. I turned and threatened -them with my empty pistol, and they drew back a little; but second -thought must have assured them that the weapon was not loaded, for they -laughed derisively and again pressed their horses to the utmost. - -"Do as I say," cried Miss Desmond, her eyes flashing upon me. "Leave me -and ride on. There is naught else to do." - -But my thought was to turn my horse in the path and lay about me with -the sword. I could hold the troopers while she made her escape with the -message that she had borne so far already. I drew the blade from the -scabbard and put a restraining hand upon my horse's rein. - -"What would you do?" cried Miss Desmond. - -"The only thing that is left for me to do," I replied. - -"Not that!" she cried; "not that!" and made as if she would stop me. -But, even while her voice was yet ringing in my ears, a dozen rifles -flashed from the hill-top, a loud voice was heard encouraging men to -speedy action, and a troop came galloping forward to meet us. In an -instant the Englishmen who were not down had turned and were fleeing in -a panic of terror down the hill and over the plain. - -"You are just in time, captain," cried Miss Desmond, as the leader of -the rescuing band, a large, dark man, came up. Then she reeled, and -would have fallen from her horse to the ground had not I sprung down and -caught her. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY--_The Night Combat_ - - -But Miss Desmond was the victim only of a passing weakness, and I was -permitted to hold her in my arms but for a moment. Then she demanded to -be placed upon the ground, saying that her strength had returned. I -complied of necessity; and turning to the American captain, who was -looking curiously at us, she inquired,-- - -"Captain, the American force, is it safe?" "Yes, Miss Desmond," he -replied; and I wondered how he knew her. "It is just over the hill -there. The night had been quiet until you came galloping up the hill -with the Englishmen after you." - -"Then we are in time!" she cried, in a voice of exultation. "Lose not a -moment, captain. A British force much exceeding our own in strength is -even now stealing upon you." - -The message caused much perturbation, as well it might, and a half-dozen -messengers were sent galloping over the hill. Then the captain said,-- - -"Miss Desmond, you have done much for the cause, but more to-night than -ever before." - -But she did not hear him, for she fell over in a faint. - -"Water!" I cried. "Some water! She may be dying!" - -"Never mind about water," said the captain, dryly. "Here is something -that is much better for woman, as well as for man, in such cases." - -He produced a flask, and, raising Miss Desmond's head, poured some fiery -liquid in her mouth. It made her cough, and presently she revived and -sat up. She was very pale, but there was much animation in her eye. - -"You have sent the warning, captain, have you not?" she asked, her mind -still dwelling upon the object for which she had come. - -"Do not fear, Miss Desmond," said the leader, gravely. "Our people know -now, and they will be ready for the enemy when they come, thanks to your -courage and endurance." - -Then he beckoned to me, and we walked a bit up the hill-side, leaving -Miss Desmond sitting on the turf and leaning against a tree. - -"A noble woman," said the captain, looking back at her. - -"Yes," said I, fervently. - -"It was a lucky fortune that gave you such companionship to-night," he -continued. - -"Yes," replied I, still with fervor. - -"Lieutenant Chester," he said, "that is not the only particular in which -fortune has been kind to you to-night." - -"No," I replied, with much astonishment at the patness with which he -spoke my true name. - -"I have said," he continued, with the utmost gravity, "that fortune has -been very kind to-night to Lieutenant Robert Chester, of the American -army. I may add that it has been of equal kindness to Lieutenant -Melville, of the British army." - -"Who are you, and what are you?" I cried, facing about, "and why do you -speak in such strange fashion?" - -"I do not think it is strange at all," he said, a light smile breaking -over his face. "So far as I am concerned, it is a matter of -indifference, Lieutenant Chester or Lieutenant Melville: which shall it -be?" - -I saw that it was useless for me to pretend more. He knew me, and was -not to be persuaded that he did not. So I said,-- - -"Let it be Lieutenant Robert Chester, of the American army. The name and -the title belong to me, and I feel easier with them than with the -others. I have not denied myself. Now, who are you, and why do you know -so much about me?" - -"Nor will I deny myself, either," he said, a quiet smile dwelling upon -his face. "I am William Wildfoot, captain of rangers in the American -army." - -"What! are you the man who has been incessantly buzzing like a wasp -around the British?" I cried. - -"I have done my humble best," he said, modestly; "I even chased you and -your friend Lieutenant Marcel into Philadelphia. For which I must crave -your forgiveness. Your uniforms deceived me; but since then we have -become better acquainted with each other." - -"How? I do not understand," I said, still in a maze. - -"Perhaps you would know me better if I were to put on a red wig," he -said. "Do not think, Lieutenant Chester, that you and Lieutenant Marcel -are the only personages endowed with a double identity." - -I looked at him closely, and I began to have some glimmering of the -truth. - -"Yes," he said, when he saw the light of recognition beginning to appear -upon my face, "I am Waters. Strange what a difference a red wig makes in -one's appearance. But I have tried to serve you and your friend well, -and I hope I have atoned for my rudeness in putting you and Lieutenant -Marcel to such hurry when I first saw you. It is true that I have had a -little sport with you. I thought that you deserved it for your rashness, -but I have not neglected your interests. I warned Alloway in the jail -not to know you, and I helped him to escape. I learned about you from -Pritchard, but no one else knows. I bound you, too, in Sir William -Howe's room, but I leave it to you yourself that it was necessary." - -His quiet laugh was full of good nature, though there was in it a slight -tinge of pardonable vanity. Evidently this was a man much superior to -the ordinary partisan chieftain. - -"Then you too have placed your neck in the noose?" I said. - -"Often," he replied. "And I have never yet failed to withdraw it with -ease." - -"I have withdrawn mine," I said, "and it shall remain withdrawn." - -"Not so," he replied. "Miss Desmond must return to her father and -Philadelphia. It is not fit that she should go alone, and no one but you -can accompany her." - -I had believed that nothing could induce me to take up the character of -Lieutenant Melville of the British army again, but I had not thought of -this. I could _not_ leave Miss Desmond to return alone through such -dangers to the city. - -"Very well," I said, "I will go back." - -"I thought so," returned Wildfoot, with a quick glance at me that -brought the red blood to my face. "But I would advise you to bring Miss -Desmond to the crest of the hill and wait for a while. I must hurry -away, for my presence is needed elsewhere." - -The partisan was like a war-horse sniffing the battle; and, leaving Miss -Desmond, myself, and two good, fresh horses on the hill-top, he hastened -away. I was not averse to waiting, for I expected that a sharp skirmish -would occur. I had little fear for the Americans now, for in a night -battle, where the assaulted are on their guard, an assailing force is -seldom successful, even though its superiority in arms and numbers be -great. - -From the hill-top we saw a landscape of alternate wood and field, amid -which many lights twinkled. A hum and murmur came up to us and told me -that the Americans were profiting by their warning and would be ready -for the enemy. - -"You can now behold the result of your ride," I said to Miss Desmond, -who stood by my side, gazing with intent eyes upon the scene below, -which was but half hidden by the night. She was completely recovered, or -at least seemed to be so, for she stood up, straight, tall, and -self-reliant. - -"We were just in time," she said. - -"But in good time," I added. - -"I suppose we shall see a battle," she said. "I confess it has a strange -attraction for me. Perhaps it is because I am not near enough to mark -its repellent phases." - -She made no comment upon my British uniform and my apparent British -character. She did not appear to remark anything incongruous in my -appearance there, and it was not a subject that I cared to raise. - -"See, the fighting must have begun," she said, pointing to a strip of -wood barely visible in the night. - -Some streaks of flame had leaped up, and we heard a distant rattle which -I knew must be the small arms at work. Then there was a lull for a -moment, followed by a louder and a longer crackle, and a line of fire, -flaming up and then sinking in part, ran along the edge of the woods and -across the fields. Through this crackle came a steady rub-a-dub, -rub-a-dub. - -"That is the beat of the drums," I said to Miss Desmond, who turned an -inquiring face to me. "The drum is the soldier's conscience, I suppose, -for it is always calling upon him to go forward and fight." - -I spoke my thoughts truly, for the drum has always seemed to me to be a -more remorseless war-god than the cannon. With its steady and tireless -thump, thump, it calls upon you, with a voice that will not be hushed, -to devote yourself to death. "Come on! Come on! Up to the cannon! Up to -the cannon!" it says. It taunts you and reviles you. Give this drum to a -ragamuffin of a little boy, and he catches its spirit, and he goes -straight forward with it and commands you to follow him. It was so at -Long Island when the Maryland brigade sacrificed itself and held back -the immense numbers of the enemy until our own army could escape. A -scrap of a boy stood on a hillock and beat a drum as tall as himself, -calling upon the Maryland men to stand firm and die, until a British -cannon-ball smashed his drum, and a British grenadier hoisted him over -his shoulder with one hand and carried him away. There is a league -between the drum and the cannon. The drum lures the men up to the -cannon, and then the monster devours them. - -Above the crackle rose the louder notes of the field-pieces, and then I -thought I heard the sound of cheering, but I was not sure. We could see -naught of this dim and distant battle but the flame of its gunpowder. -The night was too heavy for any human figure to appear in its just -outline; and I saw that I would have to judge of its progress by the -shifting of the line of fire. The British attack was delivered from the -left, and the blaze of the musketry extended along a line about a -half-mile in length. Though while the light was leaping high at one -place it might be sinking low at another, yet this line was always -clearly defined, and we could follow its movements well enough. - -The line was stationary for full fifteen minutes, and from that -circumstance we could tell that the Americans had profited well by the -warning and were ready to receive the attack. Still, the action was -sharper and contested with more vigor than I had expected. Having made -the attack, the British seemed disposed to persist in it for a while at -least. But presently the line of fire began to bend back towards the -west at the far end. - -"The British are retreating!" exclaimed Miss Desmond. - -"At one point, so it would seem," I said. - -"Yes, and at other points too," she cried. "See, the centre of the fiery -line bends back also." - -This was true, for the centre soon bent back so far that the whole line -was curved like a bow. Then the eastern end yielded also, and soon was -almost hidden in some woods, where it made but a faint quivering among -the trees. In truth, along the whole line the fire was dying. The -sputter of the musketry was but feeble and scarce heard, and even the -drum seemed to lose spirit and call but languidly for slaughter. - -"The battle is nearly over, is it not?" asked Miss Desmond. - -"Yes," I replied, "though we could scarce call it a battle. Skirmish is -a better name. I think that line of fire across there will soon fade out -altogether." - -I chanced to be a good prophet in this instance, for in five minutes the -last flash had gone out and there was naught left but a few echoes. It -was clear that the British had suffered repulse and had withdrawn, and -it was not likely that the Americans would follow far, for such an -undertaking would expose them to destruction. - -I now suggested to Miss Desmond that it would be the part of wisdom for -us to begin our return to Philadelphia, and we were preparing for -departure, when we heard the approach of horsemen, and in a moment or -two Wildfoot and three of his men approached. "It was not a long -affair," said the leader, "though there was some smart skirmishing for a -while. When they found that we were ready, and rather more than willing, -they soon drew off, and they are now on the march for Philadelphia. I -tell you again, Miss Desmond, that you have ridden bravely to-night, and -this portion of the American army owes its salvation to you." - -"My ride was nothing more than every American woman owes to her -country," replied Miss Desmond. - -"True," replied Wildfoot, "though few would have had the courage to pay -the debt. But I have come back mainly to say that some of my scouts have -brought in Lieutenant Belfort, sorely bruised, but not grievously hurt, -and that he will have no opportunity to tell the English of your ride -to-night, Miss Desmond, at least not until he is exchanged." - -I had forgotten all about Belfort, and his capture was a lucky chance -for both of us. As for the other Englishmen who had pursued us, I had no -fear that they would recognize me, even if they saw me in the daylight, -and they had seen me but dimly in a hot and flurried pursuit. - -Captain Wildfoot raised his hat to us with all the courtesy of a -European nobleman and rode away with his men, while we turned our horses -towards Philadelphia, and were soon far from the hill on which we had -stood and witnessed the battle's flare. Miss Desmond knew the way much -better than I did, and I followed her guidance, though we rode side by -side. - -"You do not ask me to keep this matter a secret," I said, at length, -when we had ridden a mile or more in silence. - -"Is not your own safety as much concerned as mine?" she asked, looking -with much meaning at my gay British uniform. - -"Is that the only reason you do not ask me to speak of it?" I said, -still bent upon going deeper into the matter. - -"Will you speak of it when I ask you not to do so?" she said. - -I did not expect such a question, but I replied in the negative with -much haste. But presently I said, thinking to compliment her, that, -however my own sympathies might be placed, I must admit that she had -done a very brave deed, and that I could not withhold my admiration. But -she replied with some curtness that Captain Wildfoot had said that -first,--which was true enough, though I had thought it as early as he. -Had it been any other woman, I would have inferred from her reply that -her vanity was offended. But it was not possible to think such a thing -of Mary Desmond on that night. - -"Have you any heart for this task?" she asked me, with much suddenness, -a few minutes later. - -"What task?" I replied, surprised. - -"The task that the king has set for his army,--the attempt to crush the -Colonies," she replied. - -There was much embarrassment in the question for me, and I sought to -take refuge in compliment. - -"That you are enlisted upon the other side, Miss Desmond," I replied, -"is enough to weaken the attachment of any one to the king's service." - -"This is not a drawing-room," she replied, looking at me with clear -eyes, "nor has the business which we have been about to-night any savor -of the drawing-room. Let us then drop such manner of speech." - -She was holding me at arm's length, but I made some rambling, ambiguous -reply, to the effect that a soldier should have no opinions, but should -do what he is told to do,--which, though a very good argument, does not -always appease one's conscience. But she did not press the question -further,--which was a relief to me. - -When we became silent again, my thoughts turned back to our successful -ride. On the whole, I had cause for lightness of feeling. Aided by -chance or luck, I had come out of difficulties wondrous well. Within a -very short space I had seen our people twice triumph over the British, -and I exulted much because of it. - -I think I had good reason for my exultation aside from the gain to our -cause from these two encounters. While accusing us of being boasters, -the British had quite equalled us at anything of that kind. I think it -was their constant assumption of superiority, rather more than the tea -at the bottom of Boston Harbor, that caused the war. Then they came over -and said we could not fight. They are much better informed on that point -now, though I will admit that they showed their own courage and -endurance too. - -Our return journey was not prolific of events. The night seemed to have -exhausted its fruitfulness before that time. When we were within a short -distance of the British lines, Miss Desmond pointed to a low farmhouse -almost hidden by some trees. - -"That is my retreat for the present," she said. "It was from that house -I started, and I will return to it. For many reasons, I cannot be seen -riding into Philadelphia with you at this hour." - -"But are the inhabitants of that house friends of yours?" I asked, in -some protest. - -"They can be trusted to the uttermost," she replied briefly. "They have -proved it. You must not come any farther with me. I have a pass and I -can come into the city when I wish without troublesome explanations." - -"Then I will leave you," I replied, "since I leave you in safety; but I -hope you will not forget that we have been friends and allies on this -expedition." - -"I will not forget it," she said. Then she thanked me and rode away, as -strong and upright and brave as ever. I watched her until she entered -the trees around the house and disappeared. Then, although I might have -fled to the American camp, I turned towards Philadelphia, a much wiser -man than I was earlier in the night. - -Some of the stragglers were coming into the city already, and it was not -difficult for me, with my recent practice in lying, to make satisfactory -explanation concerning myself. I told a brave tale about being captured -by the rebels in the rush, my escape afterwards, and my futile attempts -to rejoin the army. Then I passed on to my quarters. - -In the course of the day the entire detachment, save those who had been -killed or wounded in the skirmish, returned, and I learned that Sir -William was much mortified at the complete failure of the expedition. He -could not understand why the rebels were in such a state of readiness. I -was very uneasy about Marcel, but he rejoined me unharmed, although he -admitted that he had been in much trepidation several times in the -course of the night. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE--_Keeping up Appearances_ - - -I wished to hold further conversation with Marcel that morning on a -matter of high interest to both of us, but I did not find the -opportunity, for we were sent on immediate duty into different parts of -the suburbs. Mine was soon finished, and I returned to the heart of the -city. I noticed at once that the invading army had suffered a further -relaxation of discipline. Evidently, after his failure of the preceding -night, Sir William took no further interest in the war, and but little -in the army, for that matter, except where his personal friends were -concerned. But most afflicting was the condition of mind into which the -Tories had fallen. Philadelphia, like New York, abounded in these -gentry, and a right royal time they had been having, basking in the -sunshine of British favor, and tickling themselves with visions of -honors and titles, and even expecting shares in the confiscated estates -of their patriot brethren. - -Now they were in sore distress, and but little of my pity had they. -Among the rumors was one, and most persistent it was too, that a -consequence of the French alliance would be the speedy evacuation of -Philadelphia by the British, who would in all probability seek to -concentrate their strength at New York. This was a misfortune that the -wretched Tories had never foreseen. What! the British ever give up -anything they had once laid their hands upon! The descendants of the -conquerors of Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt, the grandsons of the men -who had humbled Louis the Great at Blenheim and Malplaquet, to be beaten -by untrained, half-armed, and starving farmers! The thing was -impossible. And Tory and Briton vied with each other in crying to all -the winds of heaven that it could not be. The British were most arrogant -towards us in those days, for which reason we always took much -satisfaction in beating them, admitting at the same time that they were -brave men, and we never cared much about our victories over the -Hessians, who, to tell the truth, were very fierce in the pursuit of a -beaten enemy, but not quite so enduring in the main contention as the -British. - -But I had ever had more animosity against the Tories than the British, -and I felt much secret delight at their manifest and troublous state of -mind. Some, who had their affairs well in hand, were preparing to depart -with their beloved British, who little wanted such burdens. Others were -mourning for their houses and goods which they had expected to see -wrenched from them as they would have wrenched theirs from the patriots. -All seemed to expect that the American army would be upon them -immediately, such were their agitation and terror. Curses, too, were now -heard against King George for deserting his faithful servants after -making so many great promises to them. Well, it is not for those who -shake the dice and lose, to complain. We, too, had had our sufferings. - -Nevertheless, the British, as is their wont, put a good face upon the -matter. That very night, many of the officers were at a reception given -with great splendor at the house of a rich Tory, and they talked of past -triumphs and of others soon to be won. I also was there, for I had -contrived to secure an invitation, having special reasons for going. - -As I had expected, Miss Desmond was present. She seemed to neglect none -of the fashionable gayeties of the city, and to me she looked handsomer -and statelier than ever. I wished for some look, some suggestion that we -had been companions in danger, and that we were rather better friends -than the others present; but she was cold and proud, and there was -nothing in her manner to show that we had ever met, save in the formal -atmosphere of the drawing-room. - -"I hear, Lieutenant Melville," she said, "that you were in the -unfortunate attack last night and fell into the hands of the rebels." - -"Yes, Miss Desmond," I replied, "but good fortune succeeded bad fortune. -I escaped from them in the darkness and the confusion, and am back in -Philadelphia to lay my sword at your feet." - -Such was the polite language of the time; but she received it with small -relish, for she replied, with asperity,-- - -"You have barely escaped laying your sword at the feet of the rebels. Is -not that enough of such exercise?" - -Then some British officers, who heard her, laughed as if the gibe had no -point for them. - -I had no further opportunity for conversation with her until much later -in the evening. The rooms were buzzing with the gossip of great events -soon to occur; and though I sought not the part of a spy, and had no -intent to put myself in such a position, I listened eagerly to the -fragments of news that were sent about. This was not a matter of -difficulty, for all were willing, even eager, to talk, and one could not -but listen, without drawing comment and giving offence. - -"'Tis reported," said Symington, a colonel, to me, "that the French king -will despatch an army in great haste to America. But we shall not care -for that--shall we, Melville? I, for one, am tired of playing -hide-and-seek with the old fox, Mr. Washington, and should like to meet -our ancient foes the French regulars in the open field. Then the -fighting would be according to the rules as practised by the experts in -Europe for many generations." - -I thought to throw cold water upon him, and said I feared the Americans -and the French allied might prove too strong for us; and as for the -ancient rules of war, campaigns must be adapted to their circumstances -and the nature of the country in which they are conducted. If the -Americans alone, and that too when at least one-third of them were loyal -to our cause, had been able to confine us to two or three cities -practically in a state of besiegement, what were we to expect when the -full might of the King of France arrived to help them? - -But he would have naught of my argument. He was full of the idea that -glory was to be found fighting the French regulars in the open field -according to the rules of Luxembourg and Marlborough. But I have no -right to complain, for it was such folly as his that was of great help -to us throughout the war, and contributed to the final victory over the -greatest power and the best soldiers of Europe. - -Although much interested in such talk as it was continued by one or -another through the evening, I watched Miss Desmond. Now, since I knew -her so well, or at least thought I did, she had for me a most marvellous -attraction. At no time did she betray any weakness in the part she -played, and though more than once she found my eyes resting upon her, -there was no answering gleam. But I was patient, and a time when I could -speak to her alone again came at last. She had gone for air into the -small flower-garden which adjoined the house after the fashion of the -English places, and I, noting that no one else had observed her, -followed. She sat in a rustic chair, and, seeing me coming, waited for -me calmly, and in such manner that I could not tell whether I came as -one welcome or repugnant. But I stood by her side nevertheless. - -"You have heard all the talk to-night, Lieutenant Melville, have you -not?" she asked. - -"I suppose that you have in mind the new alliance with the French that -the rebels have made?" I said. - -"Yes," she said. "That has been the burden of our talk." - -"I could not escape it," I replied. "It is a very promising matter for -the rebels, and for that reason a very unpromising one for us." - -"The French," she said, "would consider it a glorious revenge upon us -for our many victories at their expense, if they could help the rebels -to certain triumph over us. It would shear off the right arm of -England." - -I looked with wonder at this woman who could thus preserve her false -part with me when she knew I knew so well that it was false. I thought -she might never again refer to our night ride, our companionship in -danger. It was not anything that I wished to forget. In truth, I did not -wish to forget any part of it. Yet if I had reflected, I should have -seen that she had reason to forget that night's ride, since she must -distrust me. Evidently Wildfoot had not told her who I was, and while I -must be a friend in some way or the ranger would not have let me go, she -could not guess the whole truth. - -"Do you think, Lieutenant Melville," she asked, turning a very -thoughtful face towards me, "that this alliance will crush the English, -or will the French intervention incite them to more strenuous efforts?" - -"I think, Miss Desmond," I replied, piqued and suddenly determining to -play my part as well as she, "that we will defeat Americans and French -combined. You know we are accustomed to victory over the French." - -"It is as you say," she said; "but when one reads French histories one -finds French victories over the English also." - -Which is very true, for it is a great gain to the glory of any country -to have expert historians. - -"We will underrate the French," I said, "for that would depreciate such -triumphs as we have achieved in conflict with them." - -"You make very little of Americans," she said. "Do you not think that -you will also have to reckon with my misguided countrymen?" - -"Mere louts," I said, thinking that at last I had found away to provoke -her into an expression of her real opinions. "Perchance they might do -something if they were trained and properly armed. But, as they are, -they cannot withstand the British bayonet." - -She looked at me with some curiosity, at which I was gratified, but, in -imitation of her own previous example, I had discharged expression from -my face. - -"I had thought sometimes, Lieutenant Melville," she said, "that you had -been moved to sympathy for these people, these rebels." - -"Then you are much mistaken, Miss Desmond," I said, "although I hope I -am not hard of heart. I am most loyal to the king, and hope for his -complete triumph. How could I be otherwise, when you, who are -American-born, set me such a noble example?" - -"That is but the language of compliment, Lieutenant Melville," she said, -"the courtly speech that you have learned in London drawing-rooms, -and--pardon me for saying it--means nothing." - -"It might mean nothing with other men," I said, losing somewhat of my -self-possession, "but it does mean something with me." - -"I do not understand you, Lieutenant Melville," she said, turning upon -me an inquiring look. "You seem to speak in metaphors to-night." - -"If so," I replied, "I may again plead your noble example. I do not -understand you at all to-night, Miss Desmond." - -"Our conversation has been of a military character," she replied, -smiling for the first time. "So gallant an officer as you, Lieutenant -Melville, should understand that, while all of it may well be a puzzle -to me, a woman, whom the sound of a trumpet frightens, it is easy enough -for you to comprehend it." - -"It is this time I who ask the pardon, Miss Desmond," I replied, "if I -say that is the language of compliment, of the drawing-room." - -She made no reply, but bent forward to inhale the odor of a flower that -blossomed near her. I too was silent, for I knew not whether she wished -me to go or stay, or cared naught for either. From the drawing-room came -the sound of music, but she made no movement to go. - -"I have had thoughts about you, too, Miss Desmond," I said, at length, -after some minutes of embarrassment, for me at least. - -"I trust that such thoughts have been of a pleasant nature, Lieutenant -Melville," she said, turning her deep eyes upon me again. - -"I have thought," I continued, "that you too felt a certain sympathy for -the rebels, your misguided countrymen." - -"What reasons have I furnished for such a supposition?" she replied, -coldly. "Are you in the habit, Lieutenant Melville, of attributing -treasonable thoughts to the best friends of the king's cause." - -This I thought was carrying the matter to a very extreme point, but it -was not for me, who called myself a gentleman, to say so aloud. - -"I would not speak of it as treason," I said; "it seems to me to be in -accord with nature that you, who are an American, should feel sympathy -for the Americans." - -"Then," she replied, "it is you who have treasonable thoughts, and not -I." - -"I trust I may never falter in doing my duty," I said. - -"I trust I may not do so either," she said. - -"Then," I exclaimed, flinging away reserve and caution, "why play this -part any longer?" - -"What part?" she asked, her eyes still unfathomable. - -"This pretence of Toryism," I cried. "This pretence which we both know -to be so unreal. Do I not know that you are a patriot, the noblest of -patriots? Do I not honor you for it? Do I not remember every second of -our desperate ride together, and glory in the remembrance?" - -I paused, for I am not accustomed to making high speeches, even when -under the influence of strong emotion. - -Her eyes wavered, for the first time, and the red flush swept over her -face. But she recovered herself quickly. - -"Then say nothing about it, if you would serve me," she said, and rising -abruptly she went into the house. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO--_A Full Confession_ - - -Marcel and I had some leisure the next morning at our quarters. - -"Marcel," said I, "I wish to talk to you on a matter of serious import." - -"It must be of very high import, in truth," said Marcel, "if I may judge -of its nature from the solemn look that clothes your face like a -shroud." - -"It is no matter of jest," I replied, "and it is of close concern to us -both." - -"Very well," replied Marcel, carelessly, flinging himself into a chair. -"Then let it be kept a secret no longer." - -"It is this, Marcel," I replied, and I was in deep earnest. "I am tired -of the false characters we have taken upon ourselves. The parts are -awkward. We do not fit in them. We have been required to serve against -our own people. Only luck, undeserved luck, has saved us from the rope. -I want to reassume my own character and my own name, to be myself -again." - -I spoke with some heat and volubility. I was about to add that I was -sorry ever to have gone into such a foolish enterprise, but the thought -of a fair woman's face recalled the words. And this brought me another -thought--that I was unwilling to continue this false _rôle_ with Mary -Desmond's eyes upon me. - -"Is that all?" asked Marcel, beginning to whistle a gay dancing-tune -which some newly arrived officers had brought over from London. - -"No, it is not," I replied. "I said I wished to be myself again, and -that I mean to be." - -"I think I shall do likewise," said Marcel, cutting off his tune in the -beginning. "I am tired of this piece of stage-play myself, but I wanted -you to say so first." - -"It is time to leave it off," I added, "and go back to our duty." - -"You speak truly," said Marcel. "It would not be pleasant to be killed -by American bullets, or be forced to fire upon our old comrades. And yet -the adventure has not been without interest. Moreover, let it not be -forgotten that we have had plenty to eat, a good luck which we knew not -for two years before." - -He said the last in such a whimsical tone of regret that I laughed -despite myself. - -"There is no need to laugh," said Marcel. "A good dinner is a great item -to a starving man, and, as you know, I am not without experience in the -matter of starvation." - -Wherein Marcel spoke the truth, for during our long campaigns hunger -often vexed us more sorely than the battle. - -"I shall be glad to see our comrades and to serve with them again. When -will we have a chance to leave?" he asked. - -"I do not know," I said; "and I do not see that it matters. I am not -going." - -"Then will his lordship condescend to explain himself?" said Marcel. -"You speak in riddles." - -"We have come into this town, Marcel," I said, "in the guise of -Englishmen and as the friends of the English. We have eaten and drank -with them, and they have treated us as comrades. If I were to steal -away, I would think that I had played the part of a mere spy." - -"What then?" asked Marcel. - -"I mean to take what I consider to be the honorable course," I said. "I -mean to go to Sir William Howe, tell him what I am and what I have done, -and yield myself his prisoner." - -"You need not look so confoundedly virtuous about it," said Marcel. "I -shall go with you and tell what I am and what I have done, and yield -myself his prisoner in precisely the same manner that you will. Again I -wanted you to say the thing first." - -I never doubted that Marcel would do what was right, despite his -habitual levity of manner, and his companionship strengthened me in my -resolution. - -"When shall we go to Sir William?" asked Marcel. - -"To-day,--within the hour," I said. - -"Do you think he will hang us as spies?" asked Marcel, gruesomely. - -"I do not know," I said. "I think there is some chance that he will." - -In truth, this was a matter that weighed much upon me. Do not think -that I was willing to be a martyr, or wanted to die under any -circumstances. Nothing was further from my desires. - -"He is like enough to be in a very bad humor," said Marcel, "over his -failures and his removal from the chief command. I wish for our sakes he -felt better." - -By representing to an aide that our business was of the most pressing -importance, we secured admission to Sir William Howe. I think we came -into the room before he expected us, for when we entered the doorway he -was standing at the window with the grayest look of melancholy I ever -saw on any man's face. In that moment I felt both sorrow and pity for -him, for we had received naught but kindness at his hands. I stumbled -purposely, that I might warn him of our coming, and he turned to meet -us, his face assuming a calm aspect. - -"You sent word that your business is pressing," he said. "But I hope -that Lieutenant Melville and Captain Montague are in good health." - -"We know not the bodily condition of Lieutenant Melville and Captain -Montague," I said, "but we trust that both are well." - -"What sort of jesting is this?" he said, frowning. "Remember that, -though my successor has been appointed, I am yet commander-in-chief." - -"It is no jest," I replied. "We speak in the utmost respect to you. I am -not Lieutenant Melville of the British army, nor is my friend Captain -Montague. Those officers are prisoners in the hands of the Americans." - -"Then who are you?" he asked. - -"We are American officers," I replied, "who, in a moment of rashness and -folly, took the places of Captain Montague and Lieutenant Melville." - -"Is this truth or insanity?" he asked, sharply. - -"I think it is both," I replied, soberly. - -He smiled somewhat, and then asked more questions, whereupon I told the -whole story from first to last, furnishing such proofs that he could not -doubt what I said. For a while he sat in a kind of maze. Then he said,-- - -"Are you aware, gentlemen, that the most natural thing for me to do is -to hang you both as spies?" - -We admitted with the greatest reluctance that the laws of war would -permit it. - -"Still, it was but a mad prank," said Sir William, "and you have given -yourselves up when you might have gone away. I cannot see of what avail -it would be to the British cause, to me, or to any one to hang you. I -like you both, and you, Lieutenant Chester, as you call yourself, and as -I suppose you are, threw that Hessian colonel into the street for me so -handsomely that I must ever be in your debt, and I don't suppose that -you had anything to do with the attempt of that villian, Wildfoot; -moreover, it seems that you are quite capable of hanging yourselves in -due time. I will spare the gallows. But I wish you were Englishmen, and -not Americans." - -I felt as if the rope were slipping off our necks when Sir William spoke -these words, and my spirits rose with most astonishing swiftness. I must -say that Sir William Howe, though a slothful man and a poor general, -was kind of heart sometimes, and I have never liked to hear people speak -ill of him. - -"Your case," he said, "is likely to be a source of mighty gossip in this -town; but I shall not leave you here long to enjoy your honors. We -exchange for Lieutenant Belfort and some prisoners who are in the hands -of the rebels. You will be included in the exchange, and you will leave -Philadelphia soon. You need not thank me. In truth, I ought to hang you -as spies; but I am curious to know what act of folly you will commit -next." - -I am confident that Sir William in reality liked us greatly, for he was -fond of adventure. Perhaps that was the reason he was not a better -general. - -"I shall have to place you under guard," said Sir William, calling an -aide, "and if ever this war ends and we are alive then, I should like to -see you both in England, and show you off as the finest pair of rascals -that ever deserved to be hanged and were not." - -"It appears to me that we came out of that matter easily," said Marcel, -as we left the room. - -We remained for a while in Philadelphia as prisoners of the British, -and, to our great amazement and equal pleasure, found ourselves heroes -with the men who had been our comrades there for a brief space. They -considered it the finest and boldest adventure of which they had heard, -and Marcel's new cousin, Rupert Harding, was not last in his -appreciation. - -"I think that I shall prefer you to the real cousin, when I see him," -said Harding to Marcel, "and I shall always claim the kinship." - -We parted from them with sincere regret when Sir Henry Clinton, who, -succeeding Sir William Howe in the chief command, saw no reason to -change the latter's plan in this matter, sent us to the American army in -exchange for Belfort and others. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE--_George Washington's Mercy_ - - -"Bob," said Marcel, as we rode under escort towards the American army, -"the British have dealt handsomely with us,--we have no right to -complain of Sir William Howe,--but how about the Americans?" - -"The Americans are our countrymen." - -"Which proves nothing. When I am at fault, I would rather receive the -sentence of my official enemy than that of my official friend." - -"Don't talk of it," I replied. "We have fared so well in the first four -acts of this play that our luck cannot change consistently in the fifth -and last." - -"Yet I would there were no fifth," he grumbled. I said nothing more, -wishing to dismiss the subject from my mind. But I had been thinking of -it before Marcel spoke, and his words chimed so well with my own -thoughts that my apprehensions grew. The subject would not depart merely -because I ordered it to do so. We had left our army without leave. -Practically, we were deserters, and General Washington, as all the world -knows, was a severe man where a question of military discipline was -concerned. - -"But I am not sorry I went," I said aloud. I was thinking of Mary -Desmond and that thrilling night ride of ours when the hoof-beats of my -horse rang side by side with the hoof-beats of hers. I remembered the -flush on her face and the light in her eye. - -"I am not sorry either," said Marcel, aloud. Of what he was thinking I -do not know. Perhaps that same wild strain in his blood which had led us -into the adventure was speaking. Yet I should, and shall be, the last -man in the world to blame him for it. - -It was a glorious day. The wind blew, the grass waved, and the sun -shone. A young man could not remain unhappy long over misfortunes yet -unfelt. My memories were pleasant and so were my comrades. A half dozen -other American officers, to be exchanged for an equal number of the -enemy, accompanied us, and the two British officers in charge of the -escort, of whom Catron was one, were men of wit, manners, and friendly -temper. We made a lively party and found one another agreeable. We had -always possessed the liking of Catron, but in truth we now seemed to -have his unbounded admiration as well. - -"Ta-ra-ra, ta-ra-ra," rang the British bugle through the forest, -announcing our approach to the American army. The journey had been all -too fast. I never thought that I would part from an enemy with so much -reluctance, and I became grave again when the first American sentinel -stopped us. - -Our mission was explained, and an officer came and attended to the -exchange. We bade our friends the British, good-bye, and then, according -to orders, walked towards headquarters for instructions. As we passed -down one of the camp streets we heard a cry of surprise, and looking -about saw Sergeant Pritchard to whom we had once bade a good-bye that he -thought would be eternal. - -We dropped back a little behind the others. - -"Sergeant Pritchard," said Marcel, "you owe me a dinner, but as -provisions are scarce in the American camp I will not collect it." - -This was generous of Marcel, but I suspect that the true cause was his -unwillingness to dine in state with a sergeant. - -"I reported that you had taken the places of the Englishmen and gone to -Philadelphia," replied the good sergeant. "He made no comment in my -presence, and I know not what he said to the general about it. Nor do I -know what will come of the matter." - -Then he shook his head gloomily. - -"General Washington should behave as handsomely as Sir William Howe," -said Marcel, and I was quite sure that it was General Washington's duty -to do so. - -I acted as spokesman, and laid the case before our colonel, concealing -nothing save my ride with Mary Desmond. He was a middle-aged man, -amiable, and he liked us. In truth, both us had been fortunate enough to -receive his praise for good service in action, but he could see no -mitigating circumstances. - -"There is nothing to do but report the case to the commander-in-chief," -he said. "I am sorry, for I esteem you two boys, and you have been of -value." - -His solemn, even despondent tone depressed us. We began to feel afraid -of the future and to wonder what General Washington would say to us. Our -period of suspense was not long, as within two hours we were summoned to -appear before the commander-in-chief. - -An aide led us to his headquarters, a small square log-house such as -frontiersmen build for themselves. A sentinel was watching at the door, -but we passed in and stood before the general, who was alone writing at -a table. - -The aide withdrew to the further end of the room and left us standing -there, watching the goose quill, held in the large muscular hand, as it -travelled over the paper, writing perhaps the instructions for our own -execution as deserters. I shall never forget the few minutes that we -stood in that room hearing only the scratch of the quill on the paper. I -have dreamed of them often, and have awakened to hear the rustle of the -quill in my ears. - -No one could feel frivolous or flippant in the presence of General -Washington. The air was never very warm about him, and I have noticed -that it is usually so with men of great mental powers and great -responsibilities. - -On went the goose quill. Scratch! Scratch! I hate the sound of a goose -quill to this day. I looked at the silent aide, but his face gave no -encouragement. I looked at Marcel, but he was looking at me for the -same purpose, and neither was able to be a help to the other. - -The general wiped the goose quill and put it away. Then he turned to us, -and his face was as stern as any into which I ever looked. I saw no ray -of mercy in those severe, blue eyes. - -"Lieutenant Robert Chester?" he said to me. I bowed, and then Marcel -bowed when his name, too, was called. - -"You deserted, according to your own confession, to the enemy, and Sir -William Howe, not thinking you of sufficient value, has sent you back to -me." - -I flushed at both the charge and the irony, and protested that we were -not deserters, and had never meant to be. Moreover, we had sent word by -Sergeant Pritchard of our intention. Then I begged him to let me repeat -the whole story. He bowed slightly, and told me to proceed. I fear that -I was disturbed somewhat by the steady gaze of those cold, blue eyes, -which never left me, and I limped more than once in my narrative. -Whenever I did so, he made me go back and take up the loose thread. It -was his way to be exact in all things. - -"A likely tale! A likely tale!" he said, when I finished, "and does -credit to your powers of narration. I shall not enter into a discussion -of its truth or falsity; but even if true, you left without permission, -the army to which you belonged and masqueraded as officers of the enemy. -It seems to me that you have succeeded in being false to both Americans -and British, and I do not see how anything could be more serious, though -you young gentlemen may choose to call it an adventure or a jest or a -whim. Sirs, a great war is a deadly matter, and it is not to be won with -jests!" - -The blue eyes grew colder and sterner than ever. I wished to say -something, but I could think of nothing that would avail, and I was -silent. I fear that my lips trembled, not from fright, but at the -rebuke. I know my comrade's did, and Philip Marcel, the gay and -irrepressible cavalier, was wordless for once in his life. - -"Take them to the guard-house, Mordaunt," said the commander-in-chief to -the aide, "and we will have them disposed of to-morrow. See that they -have no chance to escape. Nor shall they be permitted to send messages -to any one." - -Then he turned his cold face away, and began to write again. I think -that the shock of this sudden and terrible sentence was taken from me by -the flame of indignation that leaped up in my heart. We were no -deserters, however foolish we had been, and however great the liberty we -had taken! I felt that we did not deserve such a punishment. Both Marcel -and I had served our country well, and to put us to death for this -adventure, although it might come within the military law, was harsh, -beyond all measure. I considered ourselves martyrs. - -"Do not be afraid that we will try to escape," I burst out, "and if this -is to be the reward of men who serve their country, no wonder that our -cause is in such straits!" - -He did not appear to notice us, but wrote calmly on, and the deadly -scratching of the goose quill was unbroken. The aide beckoned to us, -and we followed him from the room. - -"I am sorry, very sorry," said Mordaunt, when we were outside, "and, in -truth, I think that your sentence is far too severe." - -His face showed deep concern. - -"Don't be afraid that we will repeat your opinion to your hurt in the -general's good graces," said Marcel, with a laugh that was pathetic. "We -won't have many opportunities in the next twenty-four hours, and after -that--well, the best story in the world will not interest us." - -We were put in a one-room house of logs, and we sat there in silence for -many hours watching the day fade. I was still hot with indignation. We -deserved punishment, it was true, I repeated, but not death, an -ignominious death such as that decreed for us. What good end could be -served by such a deed? - -But with the fading of the day my anger faded also. Then I thought of -Mary Desmond, the curve of her check, the blue of her eye, and the -sunshine in her hair. She did not hate me I knew. "O Mary," I said under -my breath, "I shall never see you again!" and I covered my face with my -hands. - -"Bob," said Marcel, presently, holding out his hand, "forgive me." - -"Forgive you, for what?" - -"For leading you into that wild adventure. It was I who dared you to do -it, who provoked you into joining me." - -I could not accept any such assertion, and I told him so, adding that I -did not wholly regret our excursion into Philadelphia. - -"Miss Desmond!" said Marcel, understandingly, "she is worth any man's -winning, and you might have won her if--if--" - -Then he stopped abruptly and stared blankly at me, unwilling to finish -the sentence. The night came presently, and they brought us food, which -we scarcely touched. There was no light in our prison, but through the -single iron window we could see flickering camp-fires outside. The low -murmur of the army came to us. - -We sat on our stools for a long time in silence. I was trying to prepare -myself for the future, and I suppose that Marcel was occupied with a -similar task. It must have been past 10 o'clock when the door of the -prison was opened and our colonel came in. Sincere sorrow was written -plainly on the good man's face. - -"I have heard about you," he said, "and I went to him at once, and -pleaded with him. I urged your previous good service and your youth, but -I could not shake him a particle. There have been too many desertions -lately, and the army is at a low ebb. You are officers, and your fate -will be an example for all." - -"Our case is past mending," said Marcel. "We thank you for your good -wishes and your efforts, but I don't think that anything can be done." - -"That is so," said the colonel. "The next life is what you must now -consider." - -Our colonel was a good man and a good soldier, but he was never noted -for tact. Somehow he could not get off the subject of our execution, and -when he left with tears in his eyes, and an expressed hope that he might -deliver our last messages for us, he took with him our few remaining -grains of courage, and we felt that death was very, very near. - -Bye and bye, two more officers whom we knew well came to bid us -good-bye. They had obtained permission from the general, they said, and -they too had interceded for us, but fruitlessly; they could offer us no -hope whatever. They were frank in condemning the severity of General -Washington, and this knowledge that our friends regarded our punishment -as far out of proportion to our crime, made it all the more bitter to -us. - -"General Washington may be a great man and a fine commander," said -Marcel, after they had gone; "but he will never get forgiveness for -this." - -I pressed my dry lips together and said nothing. In an hour three more -officers came, and one by one bidding us farewell went out again. Their -gloomy manner depressed us still further. - -"Curse it!" exclaimed Marcel. "I wish they wouldn't come here with their -solemn faces, and their parting sermons! They make me afraid of death!" - -He expressed my state of mind exactly, but there were more farewells. It -was about midnight when the last of them came, a major who had been a -minister once, and was never known to laugh. He talked to us so -dolefully about the future, and the duty of all men to be prepared for -the worst, that my nerves were jumping, and I could scarce restrain -myself from insulting him. We were glad to see him go, and if ever I was -thoroughly unprepared for death it was when the major left us. - -The long night dragged wearily on, every minute an hour. Once I laughed -aloud in my bitterness, when I thought of Mary Desmond hearing the news -of my death. - -We slept by snatches, a few minutes at a time; but we were wide-eyed -when the day came. I saw black lines under Marcel's eyes, and I knew -that my own face was haggard too. The sentinel brought us breakfast; but -did not retire as we ate, and when I looked at him inquiringly, he -said,-- - -"Your escort is waiting outside." - -The food choked me, and I could eat no more. "Come," I said to Marcel, -"let's get it over." - -We arose, and, walking out at the door, met soldiers who fell in before -and behind us. The camp, or at least nearly all of it, was yet -slumbering. Only a few fires were burning. Over the forests and fields -the new-risen sun shone with a clear light. - -They marched us to a little grove, and there General Washington and a -half-dozen officers, our colonel among them, met us. - -"I think that he might have stayed away," said Marcel, when he saw the -commander-in-chief. - -But General Washington, looking closely at us, said: "You do not appear -to have slept well." - -"Our time was so short that I thought we could not afford to waste any -of it in sleep," I replied, with a sad attempt at a jest. - -"General, kindly shoot us at once and have done with it!" exclaimed -Marcel, who was ever an impatient man and now, expecting death, felt awe -of nobody. - -"Who said that I was going to have you shot?" asked General Washington, -regarding us intently. - -"Did you not tell us so yesterday?" I exclaimed. - -"Not at all," he replied, his grim face relaxing. "I merely said that I -would dispose of you to-day. I said nothing about shooting. That is an -assumption of your own, although it is what you had a right to expect, -and perhaps my words indicated such action. At any rate you seem to have -had a fore-taste of what you expected." - -The officers, all high in rank, our colonel among them, laughed aloud. -At another time I would have been deeply mortified, but not now. I began -to see. I understood that our punishment was not to be death; but we had -already paid the price, the night's expectation of it. - -"Fortune loves us," whispered Marcel to me. - -"What did you say?" asked the commander-in-chief, seeing the motion of -his lips. - -"I was telling Lieutenant Chester how thankful we should be that our -understanding of your words was a misunderstanding," replied Marcel, -promptly, and with that smile of his which few people could resist. - -"Call it a jest. Do you imagine that you are the only jesters in this -camp?" said the general, laughing a little. "I thought that you needed -punishment, and you were too brave and useful to be shot. So I decided -upon another plan, and I think it has been successful." - -This, they say, was the only jest of General Washington's life, but I -thank God that he made the exception. Marcel joins me. - -"Moreover, some pleas have been made in your favor," continued the -general. "Sir William Howe himself, before leaving, took the trouble to -write to me and ask that you be treated gently. You are lads whom he -loves, he said. Certainly I could afford to do so small a favor for the -man who has made it necessary for his successor to give up to me the -city of Philadelphia. And there is a young lady, too, who speaks well of -you." - -"A young lady!" I cried, suspecting. - -"Yes, a young lady, Miss Mary Desmond, to whom we owe much, and who has -just added to our debt, because last night when you were preparing so -well for your future life, she was riding to us with the news that the -British were about to depart from Philadelphia. She has told too, Mr. -Chester, how she met you that night you were on the way to warn us of -the British attack, and how you rode on together. The circumstance was -much in your favor. Yonder she is. You might speak to her, and then make -ready for duty, like the valiant and loyal officers that you have been -always--that is nearly always." - -He smiled in kindly fashion, and patted us both on the shoulder. We -thanked him with deep and fervent sincerity, and then I hurried away to -Mary Desmond. - -She stood under the boughs of one of the trees, holding her horse by the -bridle. - -"I am glad to see you, Lieutenant Chester, in your own proper guise," -she said. - -I took her warm little hand in mine, as I replied: "And I to see you -again in yours." Then I added: "You have brought the news that the -British are leaving Philadelphia?" - -"Yes," she replied. - -"Then may I come to see you there, still in my own proper guise?" - -"If General Washington gives you time," she replied. "But to tell you -the truth, I don't think you will stay long in Philadelphia. Now, -good-bye." - -I helped her upon her horse, and she gave me her hand again. Perhaps I -held it a second or two longer than custom demands, but of that I shall -say nothing more. - -I watched her as she rode away, the morning sunshine rippling on her -hair, a slender figure, yet so strong and brave. There, I knew, beat a -dauntless heart. Her spirit and courage led me on to love her from the -first, and then the mystery about her, the strange, magnetic charm had -drawn me too. She might take my love and tread upon it if she would, but -it was hers, and no woman could ever dispossess her. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR--_In the City Again_ - - -A detachment of our army entered Philadelphia the next day, hot upon the -heels of the retreating British, and Marcel and I were among the first -dozen Americans who rode into the city, Wildfoot, the ranger, commanding -the little band which had the honor of taking the lead. Seldom have -happier horsemen galloped to the music of triumph. - -"See, Lieutenant Chester!" said Wildfoot to me, pointing across the -fields. - -I followed his long forefinger with my eyes, and saw the tips of -Philadelphia's spires, a most stimulating sight. Philadelphia was then -our largest, richest, and most important city. The great Declaration had -been made there, and in a way we considered it our capital. It had been -a heavy blow to us, when we were forced to yield it to Howe, and now -when his successor, Clinton, felt himself obliged to give it back to us, -our spirits, so long depressed, sprang up with a bound. - -"Aye, it's Philadelphia," said Wildfoot, "and we've worked and waited -long to get it back again." - -I thought I saw a mist appear in the eyes of the strong backwoodsman, -and I knew that he was deeply moved. Certainly no one had worked more -than he, and perhaps none other had taken such great risks. He was -entitled to the honor of leading the vanguard. - -We expected to find skirmishers and bands of the British prepared to -make our way troublesome; but we met no foe and galloped, unopposed, -into the city, from which the British had gone but a few hours, and from -which more than three thousand Tories, too, had fled. The departure of -the enemy had been so abrupt, and we were so close behind, that several -British officers, either laggards or late risers, were captured by our -men, and our little troop, scattering, galloped about the streets, -hoping to take more such trophies. - -Marcel and I turned into one of the cross streets, and saw a hundred -yards ahead of us two officers in red-coats, riding at a great rate. - -"British!" cried Marcel. - -"So they are!" I replied, "and they must be ours!" We were wild with -enthusiasm, and even with General Washington's lesson fresh in our -memories, we thought little of consequences while in that state of mind. - -We shouted to our horses, and followed the Englishmen at full speed, -eager to make the capture. They heard the clattering of hoofs, and, -seeing us, fled at a greater speed. We were but two, and no doubt they -would have turned and fought us; but they knew the American army to be -at our back, and there was nothing for them to do but gallop. - -On they sped, lashing their horses, and after them came Marcel and I, -also lashing our horses. The dust flew from the street, and pedestrians -scuttled to safety. - -"It will be something for us to talk of if we take them!" said Marcel. - -"It must be done!" I replied, as I sought to draw more speed from my -panting horse. The distance between us was decreasing, slowly it is -true, but yet at a rate that could be noticed. I called Marcel's -attention to our gain, and his face flushed with the hope of triumph. - -"We shall take them to the general himself," he said, "and it will help -us in his eyes." - -The horses of the fugitives began to stagger, and I noticed it with -exultation. Obviously, they could not escape us now. We soon gained -rapidly, and I shouted to them to halt. One of the men whirled about -quickly and fired a pistol. The bullet whizzed between Marcel and me, -and its only result was to add anger to the motives that drew us on. We -gained yet more rapidly, and cried anew to them to halt. A second pistol -bullet was the reply, but, like its predecessor, it went wide of the -target. We galloped on, and each of them fired at us again, and missed. - -"We have them now!" cried Marcel. "Their pistols are empty, and they -cannot reload them while going at this pace!" - -In truth they were doomed apparently to be our prisoners and that, too, -speedily. Our horses were the swifter and stronger, and our loaded -pistols were in our belts. The fugitives seemed helpless. - -"Stop or we fire!" we shouted. - -They looked back as if studying their chances, and I saw their faces -clearly. When they had fired their pistols, the glimpse had been too -fleeting, but I knew them now. They were Vivian and Belfort. - -My heart thrilled with various emotions. Vivian was our good friend, a -man of whom we had the most pleasant memories. We could not fire upon -him. Belfort was my enemy, yet I believed that I had triumphed over him, -and surely one can afford to forgive the enemy from whom he has taken -the victory. I could not fire upon him, in such a situation, any more -than I could fire upon Vivian. - -"Lower your pistol!" I cried to Marcel. "Do you not see who they are?" - -"I do see, and you are right," said Marcel, as he replaced his weapon in -its holster. We gradually checked the speed of our horses, and in a few -moments the fugitives began to draw away from us. Five minutes later -they galloped across the fields and to the safety of their own army. -Whether they recognized us or not, I do not know. - -As we turned and rode back through the suburbs, a woman on horseback met -us. It was Mary Desmond. - -"Why did you let them go?" she asked, speaking to me, rather than to -Marcel. - -"They were Vivian and Belfort," I replied. "Surely you would not have -had us to fire upon either?" - -"I should not have forgiven you, if you had," she replied. - -She said that she had come out to meet the American force, and she had -seen part of our pursuit. She, too, bore the flush of triumph upon her -face, and in truth it was a great day for her as well as for us. She had -done a man's work, and more than a man's work in the cause of her -country. - -"Yes, I am glad you let them go," she repeated as we rode back together. -"It is not likely that we shall ever see either again." - -We rode with her to her father's house, and then went to quarters. Just -about sunset a colored man came to us with a note from John Desmond, -asking us to dinner at his house that night. No excuse would be -accepted, he said, and as for leave, that had been granted already by -our colonel. There was no probability that either Marcel or I would seek -an excuse to stay away from John Desmond's house, and as soon as we -could put our toilets in proper trim we went to his residence, a great -square brick building, lighted with many lights. Some carriages stood in -the street in front, yet we were badly prepared for a company of the -extent and rank that we found assembled there, with General Washington -himself at its head. In truth, we were somewhat abashed, thinking -ourselves out of place with generals and colonels; but the -commander-in-chief shook our hands, and seemed to be in a gay humor, -uncommon for him. - -"Mr. Desmond and his daughter were bound to have you," he said. "They -told me that they met you first at a banquet under embarrassing -circumstances, and it is only fair to have you now at a dinner where -everybody appears as what he is." - -Mary Desmond came in presently, and never before had I seen a woman so -shine as she did that night. She had dressed herself as for a triumph, -and jewels glittered on her neck and in her hair. Her face was illumed -by a great joy, all her reserve was gone, but the charm which had first -drawn me to her cast a more potent spell than ever. If I had not already -been deep in love with her, I should have become so then. I wondered why -every man present was not eager to lay his heart at her feet. Perhaps I -was not the only one present who was! - -Our dinner was brief, for the generals could linger only a little when -an enemy must be pursued. In truth, the main army was already in -pursuit, and it was known to only a few that General Washington was at -John Desmond's house. His was but a flying visit. Yet the dinner was -joyous. All believed that this return to Philadelphia marked the swift -rise of our fortunes. Presently wine-glasses were filled, and General -Washington stood up. - -"I have heard of a toast that some drank in the presence of Sir William -Howe," he said, "and I wish to return it. Let us drink to the health of -John Desmond, one of our truest and most useful patriots." - -We drank, and the old man flushed deep with gratified pride. - -"And now," resumed the general, "let us drink to the best patriot of -all, the daring messenger and horsewoman, Miss Mary Desmond. Happy the -country that can claim her, and happy the man! To Miss Mary Desmond!" - -No toast was ever drunk with a better will. - -The commander-in-chief and the generals went away in a few minutes, but -Marcel and I stayed a little longer. - -"We pursue the enemy to-morrow," I said to Mary Desmond as I bade her -good-night, "and there will soon be a battle." - -She looked steadily into my eyes, but in a moment a light flush swept -over her beautiful face. - -"May you come back safely, Lieutenant Chester," she said. - -"Will you care?" I asked. - -"I do care," she replied. I thought I felt her fingers quiver as she -gave me her hand, but she withdrew it in an instant, and I came away. - -Our vanguard under Wildfoot, with Marcel and me by his side, began the -pursuit of the British the next day. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE--_The Widow's Might_ - - -The troop, led by Wildfoot, numbered not more than fifty horsemen, but -all were strong and wiry, and bore themselves in the easy alert manner -that betokens experience, and much of it. Moreover, they were well -mounted, a point of extreme importance. Marcel and I deemed ourselves -fortunate to be included in such a band, and that we were high in the -partisan chief's favor, we had good evidence, because before we started -he brought us two exceptionally fine horses and bade us exchange our -mounts for them, temporarily. - -"You must do it, as you are likely to need their speed and strength," he -said, when we showed reluctance, for good cavalry horses were worth -their weight in silver, at least in those days, and we did not like to -take the responsibility of their possible loss. - -"Then you mean to give us some work, I take it," said Marcel. - -"Not much to-day," replied the partisan, "as I operate best in the dark; -so shall I wait until sun-down, but I hope that we shall then get -through with a fair night's work." - -Wildfoot's men seem to trust him absolutely. They never asked him where -they were going or what they were expected to do, but followed -cheerfully wherever he led. The partisan himself continued in the great -good humor that had marked him when we entered Philadelphia. He sang a -bit under his breath and smiled frequently. Whether he was happy over -deeds achieved or others to come, I could not tell. But I saw that our -duties were to be of a scouting nature, as was indicated clearly by the -character of the force under his command. - -We rode for a while in the track of the British army, a huge trail made -by the passage of sixteen thousand troops, and a camp train twelve miles -long. Many Tories, too, not fortunate enough to secure passage on the -ships down the river, had followed the army, filled with panic and -dreading retaliation from the triumphant patriots whom some of their -kind had persecuted cruelly in the days when our fortunes were lower. - -It was easy enough for us to overtake the British army, which was -dragging itself painfully over the hills and across the fields. A body -of fifteen or twenty thousand men can move but slowly in the best of -times, and in the terrible heat which had suddenly settled down, the -British forces merely crept towards New York. Soon we saw their red -coats and shining arms through the trees, and heard the murmur of the -thousands. However we bore off to one side, passing out of sight, and -made a wide curve, apparently for the purpose of examining the country, -and to see whether the British had sent out skirmishing or foraging -parties. But we saw neither, and shortly after sunset our curve brought -us back to the enemy's army, which had gone into camp for the night, -their fires flaring redly against the background of the darkness. We -stopped upon the crest of a little hill, from which we could see the -camp very well and sat there for a few minutes, watching. Being in the -darkness we were invisible, but many blazing heaps of wood shed their -light over the hostile army. - -"They seem to be taking their ease," said Wildfoot. "It ought not to be -allowed, but we will not disturb them for the present." - -Then he withdrew our men about a mile, and, halting them in a thick -wood, ordered them to eat of the food in their knapsacks. But Marcel and -me he summoned to go with him on a little journey that he purposed to -take. - -"We shall not be gone more than an hour or two," he said, "and we will -find the men waiting for us here when we come back." - -We curved again as we rode away. In truth, we had been making so many -curves that it was hard for me to retain any idea of direction. In a -half hour we saw a light, and then the house from which it came, a low -but rather large building of heavy logs, standing in a small clearing in -the forest. - -Wildfoot had not spoken since we left the other men, and as he seemed to -be in deep thought we did not interrupt him with vain questions, merely -following him as he rode quietly into the thickest part of the woods -behind the house. When he slipped from his horse there, we did -likewise, and waited to see what he would do next. - -"We will tie our horses here," he said. "No one will see them, and as -they are old campaigners, they are too well trained to make a noise." - -Again we imitated his example, and tethered our horses to the boughs of -trees. - -"Now," said Wildfoot, when that was done, "we will call on a lady." - -The moon was shining a little, and I thought I saw a faint smile on his -face. I was full of curiosity, and Marcel beside me uttered a little -exclamation. The name of woman was always potent with this South -Carolina Frenchman; but we said nothing, content, perforce, to be silent -and wait. - -"She is not so handsome as Miss Mary Desmond," continued Wildfoot, -smiling again a little, and this time at me. "Few are; but as she finds -no fault with it herself, none other should." - -But Marcel had begun to brush his uniform with his hands, and settle the -handsome sword, which was his proudest adornment, a little more rakishly -by his side. - -We walked to the door and knocked, and when some one within wished to -know in a strong voice who was there, Wildfoot responded with a -question. - -"Are you alone?" he asked. - -"Yes," said the voice. "Who is it?" - -"Wildfoot and two friends." - -The door was opened at once, and we entered, beholding a woman who -seemed to be the sole occupant of the house. At least none other was -visible. - -"I hope you are well, mother," said Wildfoot, and the woman nodded. - -But I saw at once that she was no mother of his, although old enough. -She, too, was large and powerful, almost masculine in build, but there -was no similarity whatever in the features. - -"Lieutenant Chester and Lieutenant Marcel of the American army, good -friends of mine and trusted comrades," said Wildfoot, "and this, -gentlemen," he continued to us, "is Mother Melrose, as loyal a patriot -as you can find in the Thirteen Colonies, and one who has passed many a -good bit of information from the British army in Philadelphia on to -those who needed it most. Mother, can't you find us something to eat -while we talk?" - -The woman looked pleased with his praise, and speedily put upon a table -substantial food, which we attacked with the zest that comes of hard -riding. Yet from the first I studied the room and the woman with -curiosity and interest. - -The note of Mother Melrose's manner and air was self-reliance. She -walked like a grenadier, and her look said very plainly that she feared -few things. She must have been at least sixty, and perhaps was never -beautiful. I surmised, from the complete understanding so evidently -existing between her and Wildfoot, that she helped him in his forays, -warning him of hostile expeditions, sending him news of wagon trains -that could be cut off, and otherwise serving the cause. There were many -such brave women who gave us great aid in this war. But I wondered at a -fortitude that could endure such a lonely and dangerous life. - -"Do you know that the British army is encamped near you, mother?" asked -Wildfoot, as we drank a little wine that she brought from a recess, -probably captured by Wildfoot himself from some wagon train. - -"I know it," she replied, her old eyes lifting up, "and glory be to God, -they have been forced to run away from Philadelphia at last!" - -She passed presently into a rear room which seemed to be a kitchen, and -Marcel said:-- - -"A fine patriot, but has she no sons, nobody to help her here and to -protect her, maybe?" - -"She can protect herself well enough," replied Wildfoot, "and there is -nobody else in this house except a serving lad, who, I suspect, is in -the kitchen helping himself to a little extra supper. But she has sons, -three of them. They're in our business, and far away from here." - -"Three for the cause," I commented. "That is doing well." - -"Two fight for the Congress and one for the king," said Wildfoot. "The -one who serves the king is her youngest and best beloved. Nothing can -change that, although, as far as her power goes, the king has no greater -opponent than she." - -"Strange!" said Marcel. - -But it did not seem so very strange to me. - -The woman was coming back, and I looked at her with deeper respect than -ever. We talked a little more, and Wildfoot's questions disclosed that -his object in coming to the house was to see if she had any better -information than he had been able to pick up. But she could tell him of -no hostile party that he might cut off. - -Our conversation was ended suddenly by a shock of red hair thrust in at -the door, and a voice, coming from somewhere behind the red hair, -announcing that some one was coming. It was the serving boy who gave us -the timely warning. - -"It must be the enemy," said Wildfoot. "No Americans except ours are -near here, and they would not come contrary to my express order. How -many are they, Timothy?" - -"Three men on horseback, and they are British," replied Timothy. - -"You can go out the back way and escape into the forest without any -trouble," said the woman. - -"I don't know that we want to escape," replied Wildfoot, "especially as -we are three to three. Neither are we looking for a skirmish just now; -so, by your permission, mother, we will step into the next room, and -wait for your new guests to disclose themselves." - -Mother Melrose offered no objection, and we entered a room adjoining the -one in which we had been eating. It was unlighted, but the house seemed -to have been a sort of country inn in more peaceful times, and this -apartment into which we had just come, was the parlor. - -"Leave the door ajar an inch or two, that we may see," said Wildfoot, -and the woman obeyed. A minute later there was a heavy knock, as if -whoever came, came with confidence. Mother Melrose opened the door in an -unconcerned manner, as if such knocks were a common occurrence at her -house, and three British officers entered, that is, two were Englishmen, -and the third was a Hessian. The faces of the Englishmen were young, -open, and attractive, but that of the Hessian I did not like. We did not -dislike the English officers in this war, who were mostly honest men -serving the cause of their country; but we did hate the Hessians, who -were mere mercenaries, besides being more cruel than the British, and -when I say "hate," I use the word with emphasis. - -They, too, seemed to have taken the place for a sort of country inn, and -sat down at the table from which Mother Melrose had hastily cleared the -dishes of our own supper. - -"Can't you give us something to eat, mistress?" asked one of the -Englishmen. "We are tired of camp fare, and we pay gold." - -"Provisions are scarce," replied Mother Melrose; "but I am willing to do -my best, because you travel in such haste that I may never have another -chance to serve you." - -"She has pricked you very neatly, Osborne," laughed the other -Englishman, "but I am free to confess that we would travel faster if the -weather were not so deucedly hot. We don't have such a Tophet of a -summer in England, and I'm glad of it. Any rebels about, mistress?" - -It was the merest chance shot, as we were ahead of the British army -rather than behind it, and we were not expected in this quarter; but -Mother Melrose never flinched. "No, you are safe," she replied. - -"That's for you, Hunston," said Osborne, laughing in his turn, "but I -would have you to know, good mistress, that we are giving up -Philadelphia to your great Mr. Washington out of kindness, pure -kindness. He starved and froze, out there at Valley Forge, so long that -we thought he needed a change and city comforts, and as there is plenty -of room for all of ours in New York, we concluded,--and again I say it -was out of the kindness of our souls,--to give him Philadelphia." - -"Well, the Lord loveth a cheerful giver," said Mother Melrose, with -unction. - -Both Englishmen laughed again, and with great heartiness. Evidently they -were men who knew that life was worth living, and were not prone to -grieve over evils unbefallen. I was sorry that I could not laugh with -them. There was no smile on the face of the ill-favored Hessian. His -eyes wandered about the room, but he seemed to have no suspicion. I took -it that his sour temper was the result of chronic discontent. - -"What ails you, Steinfeldt?" asked Osborne. "Why don't you look happy? -Isn't the hospitality of the house all that you wish?" - -"Haven't you any wine?" asked Steinfeldt. "I can't drink the cursed -drinks of this country, cider and such stuff! faugh!" - -Mother Melrose produced the same bottle from which she had poured wine -for us, and filled the glasses. - -"That's better," said Steinfeldt. "Fill them again, can't you?" His eyes -began to sparkle, and his face to flush. It was easy to tell his master -passion. But Mother Melrose filled the glasses again, and then a third -time, producing a second bottle. The house was better stocked than I had -thought it could possibly be. Steinfeldt's temper began to improve under -the influence of the liquor, and he grew talkative. Evidently Mother -Melrose's taunt about the British evacuation of Philadelphia rankled in -his mind, though the two Englishmen themselves had passed it off easily -enough. - -"We will come back," he said. "You don't imagine that we will let Mr. -Washington keep Philadelphia long?" - -"I don't think he will ask you about it," replied Mother Melrose. - -"It's too good a country to give up," continued Steinfeldt, "and we must -keep it. It is rich land, and the women are fair. The men may not want -us; but the women do." - -One of the Englishmen angrily bade him be silent; but the wine was in -his blood. - -"But the women do want us, don't they?" he repeated to Mother Melrose. - -She lifted her hand, which was both large and muscular, and slapped him -in the face. It was no light blow, the crack of it was like that of a -pistol-shot, and Steinfeldt reeled in his chair, the blood leaping to -his cheeks. - -"Damnation!" he cried, springing to his feet, and snatching his sword -from its scabbard. - -"Steinfeldt, stop!" cried Osborne, "you cannot cut down a woman." - -"I wish you were a man," said the Hessian to Mother Melrose, "then you'd -have to fight for that." - -"Don't trouble yourself about my not being a man," said she, coolly. -"I'll fight you any way." - -One of the Englishmen had hung his sword and belt on the back of his -chair while he ate, and, to my unbounded surprise, Mother Melrose -stepped forward, took the sword, and putting herself in the attitude of -a genuine fencing-master, faced the German. I was about to make a -movement, but Wildfoot put a restraining hand on my shoulder. His other -hand was on Marcel's shoulder. - -"Madame, what do you mean?" asked Osborne. - -"The gentleman seems to be angry, and I am the cause of his anger, so I -offer him satisfaction," she replied. "He need not hesitate. I am -probably a much better swordsman than he." - -Steinfeldt's face flushed. He raised his weapon, and the two swords -clashed together. But we did not intend that the matter should go -farther, and we stepped into the room just as the Englishmen also moved -forward to interfere. - -Their surprise was intense, but they drew weapons promptly. Marcel, -whose blood was hotter than mine or Wildfoot's, raised his hand as a -signal to be quiet. - -"Since the German gentleman wants to have satisfaction, he ought to have -it," he said, "and since he has insulted the women of our country, we -also want the satisfaction which we ought to have. If the quarrel is -not handsomely made up, I never heard of one that was. I'll take Mother -Melrose's place." - -The woman put the sword on the table, and stepped aside, content with -the way affairs were going. The Englishmen looked dubiously at us. - -"Why not?" asked Wildfoot. - -His query seemed pertinent to me. According to the military law, all of -us ought to fight; but since we would make a most unpleasant muss in the -house it was best that a champion of each side should meet. It was -proper, too, that Marcel should be our man, since he was a better -swordsman than I. Wildfoot was our leader, and it was not fitting for -him to take the risk. - -"Why not?" continued Wildfoot. "I may tell you, gentlemen, that I have a -large party near, and perhaps I could get help in time to make you -prisoners, but I assure you that the affair would interfere with other -and more important plans of mine. You would much better let them fight." - -The Englishmen whispered together a moment or two. - -"Let it be as you propose," said Osborne. - -Their eyes began to sparkle, and I saw that the love of sport, inherent -in all Englishmen, was aroused. Marcel and Steinfeldt faced each other -and raised their swords. I was astonished at the animosity showing in -the eyes of these two men who had never seen each other until a few -minutes ago and who had no real cause of quarrel. Yet they seemed to me -at that moment to typify their two races which, since then, and in -these Napoleonic times, have come into such antagonism. Still it would -not be right to say that I care more for the French than for the -Germans, although Marcel, who was of French descent, was my fast friend. -I have no great admiration for the faults of either race. - -Steinfeldt was the larger and apparently the stronger of the two; but -Marcel was more compact and agile, and I felt confident of his success. -They crossed swords, testing each other's attack and defence, and then -began to fight in earnest, their eyes gleaming, their faces hot, and -their breath coming short and hard. A candle on a table cast a dim -light, and shadows flickered on the floor. - -The German was no bad swordsman, and the influence of the wine had -passed. At first he pressed Marcel back with fierce and rapid thrusts, -and for a moment I was alarmed for my friend. Then I saw that Marcel's -face was calm, and his figure seemed to gather strength. My eyes passed -on to Mother Melrose; but she stood, impassive, against the wall, -silently watching the swordsmen. A red head appeared at the kitchen -door, and there was the serving lad following the contest with staring -eyes. As for myself, I was uneasy. I did not like the situation; it -seemed to me irregular, and we might be interrupted at any time by a -force of the enemy. Yet I reasoned with myself that I should not be -disturbed when Wildfoot, who was a veteran, seemed not to be, and I soon -forgot my scruples in the ring of steel and the joy of combat that rose -in my blood, as it had risen in that of the Englishmen. - -The Hessian paused a little, seeming to feel that he had been too -violent in the beginning, and I noticed that his breath had shortened. -Marcel, whose back was against the wall, feinted, and followed up the -feint with a thrust, quick as lightning. But the Hessian had no mean -skill, and he turned aside the blade which flashed by his arm with a -soft sound like scissors snipping through cloth. His coat-sleeve was -laid open and the flesh grazed. - -"He guards well," said one of the Englishmen, nodding towards -Steinfeldt. - -The Hessian heard the remark, and it seemed to give him new strength. -His sword became a beam of light, and he thrust so straight at Marcel's -breast that I held my breath in fear; but my comrade was quick, and the -blade, caught on his own, flashed harmlessly by. - -"Well fought; well fought, by Pollux!" exclaimed the Englishman Osborne. -"This is worth seeing." - -The duellists were now almost in the centre of the room, and they paused -a moment for breath. I knew, by the compression of their lips, that each -was preparing for his greatest effort, and we were silent, awaiting the -issue. - -The sword play began again, and the weapons rang across each other. The -heavy breathing of the combatants sounded distinctly, and the soft beat -of their footsteps, as they shifted about the room, made a light, -sliding noise, like the restless tread of wild animals in a cage. - -The Hessian's sword passed close to Marcel's side, cutting his coat; -but when Marcel's blade flashed in return, it came back with blood upon -it. The keen edge had passed along the Hessian's wrist, leaving a red -thread. - -The cut was not deep, but it had a sting to it, and Steinfeldt shut his -teeth hard. Marcel's sword was now making lines of light about him, and -the Hessian's part in the combat soon became a defence only. He was -pressed back, an inch or two at a time, but without cessation. Then I -saw the great skill of my comrade. His lips were shut tight, but his -eyes remained calm and confident, and the sword seemed to have become a -part of himself, so truly did it obey his will. - -The Hessian's face slowly darkened, and the light in his eyes, that had -been the light of anger and defiance, became the light of fear. And it -was the fear of death. He read nothing else in the gleaming blade and -calm look of the man before him. Two or three drops of perspiration -stood out on his forehead. - -"Bad, bad! Steinfeldt has lost!" I heard the Englishman Osborne say -under his breath. - -I studied Marcel's face, but I could not discover his intentions there. -That he carried the Hessian's life on the point of his sword, everyone -in the room now knew, and the Hessian himself knew it best of all. But -Steinfeldt had courage, I give him all credit for that, whatever else he -may have been. A man must be brave to fight on, in the face of what he -knows is certain death. - -Back went the Hessian, closer and closer to the wall, and always before -him was the calm, unsmiling face and gleaming sword that whistled so -near and threatened every moment to strike a mortal blow. The suspense -became unbearable. I felt like crying out: "Have done and end such a -game," and I bit my lip to enforce my own silence. - -The Hessian's back suddenly touched the wall, and the sword of Marcel -flashed a second time along his wrist, leaving another red thread beside -the first. Then it flashed back again, and the weapon of the Hessian, -drawn from his hand, fell clattering on the floor. - -The defenceless man stood as if he expected a stroke; but I knew that -Marcel would never give it. He thrust his own sword into its scabbard, -bowed to his opponent with the easy and graceful politeness that he -loved, and turned to us as if awaiting our will. I have often wondered -where Marcel got that manner of his, and I have concluded that it came -from his French blood. - -"Take your friend and go," said Wildfoot to the Englishmen. "He is not -hurt much, and it is time for all of us to rejoin our commands." - -The Englishmen hesitated, as if it were not right for official enemies, -in the height of a hot campaign, to part in such a manner. In truth, it -was not, but Wildfoot had a set of military rules peculiarly his own, -and was not called to account for anything that he might do. - -Their hesitation ceased quickly, and each taking an arm of Steinfeldt, -they hurried with him out of the room, not neglecting, however, to give -us a farewell salute. But they forgot to take Steinfeldt's sword, and -Marcel, picking it up, said that he would keep it as a remembrance. - -"You must admit that Lieutenant Marcel made a good substitute for you," -said Wildfoot, turning to Mother Melrose. - -"None could have been better, but I might have beaten the Hessian -myself," she replied sturdily. "My husband was a great swordsman and he -taught me." - -It was now our turn to go, and we bade this remarkable old woman -good-night. She showed no signs of fear and was already wiping from the -floor the drops of blood that had fallen from Steinfeldt's wrist. - -We secured our horses again, and sprang upon their backs. I heard a -faint sound like a laugh, and saw a broad smile on the face of Wildfoot. - -"I did not expect to see such fine sport when we went to the house," he -said. - -The ranger obviously was enjoying himself. Events like this pleased his -wild and energetic nature. I saw that he was in truth a man of the -forests and the night and war, and loved danger. - -"Aside from the risk of a fight with them, I did not wish to hold those -Englishmen," he continued. "Although they are not likely to report the -full and exact facts of our meeting, they will say, when they rejoin -their army, that the American forces are in the vicinity, and that is -what I wish the British to know. Unless you are planning a secret -attack, it is important to keep the enemy worried, to let him think -that you are everywhere, and it will exhaust his strength and patience. -Growing tired, he will do something rash and costly." - -I understood Wildfoot's logic; but I wondered what would be his next -movement, waiting, however, as usual, to let the deed disclose itself. -We rejoined our men, who were resting in the wood undisturbed, and all -rode on another circuit. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX--_An Average Night with Wildfoot_ - - -The night was bright with the moonlight, and we soon saw the blaze of -the British camp-fires again. We rode slowly towards them, and at last -stopped at a distance of several hundred yards. - -"They should have a picket near here," said Wildfoot, "and I fancy it is -over yonder in the shadow." - -He pointed towards a clump of trees on our right, and Marcel, whose eyes -were wonderfully keen, announced that he saw there the color of -uniforms. - -"Six men are in the group," said Wildfoot, a moment later, "and they -appear to be resting, which is wrong. No British picket should be taking -its ease in a campaign like this. We will furnish them some excuses for -being on watch." - -He gave word to two of his men, who lifted their rifles and fired -towards the group under the trees. I heard the bullets cutting through -the leaves in the few minutes of intense silence that followed. Then a -great clamor arose, the noise of many voices, a drum beating, and -scattered shots returning our fire. We saw soldiers leap up in the camp -and run to arms. - -We were far enough away to be hidden from the sight of our enemies, and -we rode swiftly on, leaving the clamor behind us. It was a huge camp, -spreading out for miles, and partly surrounded by woods, which always -make easy the approach of a concealed foe. Yet there was not enough open -space in the vicinity for the whole British army, and their commanders -were not to blame. - -Wildfoot still led the way, appearing to know the country thoroughly. He -divided our little force, presently, into three troops, naming a place -at which we were to reunite some hours later. He placed trusted leaders -over the first two troops, and took the third himself, Marcel and I -being included in it. We rode through the deep woods, the twigs whipping -our faces, but always ahead of us was the large dark figure of Wildfoot, -horse and man passing on silently, like a ghostly centaur. - -In a half-hour we stirred up another picket, which saw us in the -moonlight and fired their bullets so close to our heads that I felt -anxious. But they were only four men, and we soon sent them running back -to their army. Then an entire company came out to beat up the woods for -us, but we were gone again, flitting on to new mischief. Wildfoot was an -expert at this business. Anybody could see it at a glance. He knew when -to do a thing, and when not to do it, which comes very near to being -supreme wisdom. He knew whether to attack or to wait, whether to ride on -or to stay, and the entire British right flank was soon in an uproar, -their musketeers returning the fire of an enemy whom they could not -see, and cavalry galloping through the forests after the foe whom they -could not overtake. While Wildfoot led us often into danger, he always -led us out again, and we continued our circle of the British camp, all -our horsemen unharmed. - -"Isn't this glorious?" said Wildfoot to me presently. "Such nights as -these a man remembers long." - -I gazed at him in wonder, but there was no sign of affectation in his -voice or eye. I knew that there was none in his heart either. But I -looked at my torn clothing, felt my bruised face, where the twigs had -struck like switches, stretched my muscles, sore from so much riding, -and replied,-- - -"If I were the British commander, Captain Wildfoot, and I could catch -you, I would hang you to the top of the tallest tree in this forest." - -"I admit that it is somewhat annoying," he replied, smiling broadly at -what impressed him as a great compliment; "but, as I told you, we must -not let the enemy dwell in peace. If we can disturb his sleep, impair -his digestion, and upset his nerves, he won't be enthusiastic when he -goes into real battle." - -A half-hour later we were dashing through the woods pursued by a -formidable company, entirely too large for us to oppose, but again we -were unharmed. In truth, the darkness--for the moon had faded -somewhat--was our protector. The enemy could not see to hit us with the -musket-bullets, and presently we gathered together again in the friendly -shadows, with the hostile troop left far behind. - -"I wish I knew where General Clinton himself lies," said Wildfoot, who -was ambitious. "I should like to send a bullet through his tent, not to -hurt him, but merely to let him know that we are here." - -His face was full of longing, but there was no way for us to discover or -approach General Clinton's tent, and I feared that his desire must go -unfulfilled. Nevertheless, his zest and energy did not decrease, and he -seemed bent upon completing the circuit of the British army with his -irritating methods. I was worn to the bone, but in spite of it I caught -some of Wildfoot's militant enthusiasm, and aided him to the utmost. - -Clouds obscured the moon again, and the added darkness helped us. After -midnight we found a company camped on a hill-side on the fringe of the -army, but a little farther from the main body than usual. The tethered -horses grazed on the grass near by, and I was willing to swear that I -knew several of them. - -"Yes," said Wildfoot, at whom I looked questioningly, "that's the -company with which you rode the night you and Miss Desmond brought us -the warning. I have no doubt that your friend Belfort, who was exchanged -for you, and other friends of yours, too, are there. We will rouse them -up a bit." - -He signalled to his men, and a half-dozen bullets clipped the grass -among the tents. The return fire came in an instant, and it was much -fiercer than we had expected. The musket-balls whistled around us, and -two men and a horse were grazed. We sent back a second volley, and the -British, rushing to their horses, galloped after us, at least a hundred -strong. Away we crashed through the woods, expecting to shake them off -in a few minutes, as we had rid ourselves of the others, but they -managed to keep us in sight and hung on to the chase. - -"We must discourage such enthusiasm," said Wildfoot, and he gave orders -to our men, who had reloaded their rifles, to fire again, cautioning -them to take good aim. Two troopers fell to our volley, and others -seemed to be hurt. The pursuit slackened for a few minutes, but was -resumed to the accompaniment of scattering rifle-shots that urged us to -renewed speed. Three of our men were wounded, though slightly, and the -affair was growing decidedly warm. - -But the darkness of night and our knowledge of the country gave us a -vast advantage, which we used to good purpose. Wildfoot ordered us to -curve farther away from the British camp, and in five minutes we entered -the deeper forest. Marcel and I were thankful now that Wildfoot had made -us take the horses. All the men were specially well mounted, in truth, -on horses trained for such work, and our pursuers began to diminish in -number, the slower ones dropping off. They decreased rapidly from a -hundred to fifty, and then to twenty-five, and then to less. But a small -group clung persistently to us until at last Wildfoot laid a restraining -hand on the rein of his horse, and said: "Not more than seven or eight -men are following us now. We must show them that they are rash." - -We stopped and raised our rifles, all except Marcel and I, who had none, -pistols taking their place. Our pursuers were too eager and too hot -with the chase to notice instantly that we were no longer fleeing, and -dashed at us like knights riding down an antagonist at a tournament. The -man at their head was Belfort,--I saw him plainly,--who never lacked -bravery and zeal, however unlikable he may have been otherwise. I had -spared his life once, and I would not fire at him now, but of course I -was not responsible for what the others might do. - -Our weapons flashed, and two of the pursuing horsemen fell. One horse -also went down. The unhurt, warned by this terrible volley that they had -come too far, whirled about and fled--all except two. - -The two who did not flee were a wounded man who had fallen from his -saddle and the one whose horse had been killed. Both wore the uniform of -officers. - -The dismounted man might have darted among the trees and eluded us -easily, but he did not run. Instead he raised up his wounded companion, -who began to limp away. I saw that the latter was Belfort, but I judged -that he was not badly hurt, the blood on his coat indicating that the -bullet had struck him in the shoulder. The moonlight fell on the face of -the man who led him, and we saw that it was not a man at all, merely a -fair-haired English boy of seventeen or eighteen years. He put his arm -under Belfort's shoulder, and the two walked towards one of the horses -that stood near with empty saddle. - -"Surrender!" shouted Wildfoot. - -The boy turned towards us, and his face showed defiance. Then he shook -his fist, and walked on with his comrade towards his horse. - -We held the lives of both at our mercy, and the boy probably knew it, -but he never flinched. We might fire or we might not; but he did not -intend to desert a comrade or surrender. One of our men raised his -rifle, but Wildfoot struck it down. - -"There is some English mother whom we can spare!" he said. - -So we sat there on our horses until the boy helped Belfort into the -saddle, and climbed up behind him. Then he looked at us intently for a -moment, and raised his hand. I thought he was going to shake his fist in -our faces again; but the hand went to his head, and he gave us a -military salute. Then, with his wounded comrade, he rode away towards -the British army. - -"A fine spirit and fine manners," said Wildfoot. - -We, too, rode off in the forest, and I was very glad that the ranger had -spared the boy. He had given me my life once, but then he knew that I -was not an Englishman. - -There was no cessation of the work for hours, and we continued our -circuit, stirring up alarm after alarm, Wildfoot, sleepless and -untiring, at our head. At last when day was bright, and our three bands -had reunited, he looked at the rising sun and said, with a deep sigh of -regret:-- - -"I'm afraid we'll have to quit and go back to General Washington's -camp." - -"Don't you think that we've had rather an active night?" I asked. - -"It's been a fair average night," he replied. - -Such was the man. - -When the sun was well risen, we were riding into camp. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN--_Pure Gold_ - - -I was so sleepy and tired that I practically fell from my horse when we -reached quarters; but I had slept only three or four hours when a -messenger from General Washington himself came to me, bearing -instructions for me to go to John Desmond's house in Philadelphia with -ten armed men and bring what he would give. I was to show Mr. Desmond a -sealed order which the messenger brought. - -The armed men were waiting, and I rode at their head to John Desmond's -house, wondering what the nature of my errand could be. Yet my ill-humor -at being awakened so early had vanished when I found where I was to go. -It was Mr. Desmond's residence, not his counting-house, and I found him -in the parlor, where I gave him a note. He was not alone. He sat at one -side of a wide table and on the other side was a man whom I knew to be a -trusted aide of General Washington. Between them lay a heap of shining -gold of English and French coinage, and they were counting it. It was a -fine yellow heap, one of the most luscious sights that I had beheld in a -long time, and my eyes lingered over it. - -"It is this that you are to take," said Mr. Desmond, with a smile, and -indicating the gold, when he had read my sealed order. - -"For what is it?" I could not restrain myself from asking. - -"For the cause," he replied. "It is the contribution of some of -Philadelphia's merchants and bankers to the Continental army. They have -awaited this opportunity a long time." - -I suspected that his own contribution was the largest of all, and such I -afterwards found to be the truth. - -"It is well to be exact," continued Mr. Desmond, "and so we are counting -it in order that Captain Reade here may give us a receipt for the exact -amount. It will take us more than a half hour yet to finish the task, -and you might walk into the garden while you are waiting." - -He indicated the way, and going into the garden I found Mary Desmond -there. She wore June roses on her shoulder, their pink and red gleaming -against her white dress, and her face was bright. The charm of her eyes -did not depart in the daylight. - -"So you have come back unharmed," she said. "But you have returned -early." - -"We have not fought the battle yet," I replied. - -"But you look worn," she said. "Have you not seen service?" - -"Yes," I replied, "I have spent a night on duty with Wildfoot." - -"I might have known," she replied, as she laughed. "That man never -sleeps--at least not in the night. He is always seeking to do something -for our cause, which may have friends more powerful, but never better." - -"I know it," I replied earnestly. - -We walked on between the flower beds. It was just such another garden as -that at the Tory's house, in which we had talked at cross-purposes after -our night's ride, but somehow we seemed to understand each other much -better here. The atmosphere was different. - -I began to tell her of our night with Wildfoot, and first of our visit -to the lonely house where Mother Melrose challenged the Hessian. Her -eyes filled and grew tender. - -"I know her well," she said, "and she is as loyal and true as Wildfoot -himself. She has been one of the links in our chain of communication -with the American army, as perhaps Wildfoot told you. I have left -messages there myself more than once, and sometimes I have urged her to -go away to a safer place. But she seems never to be afraid in that -lonely house!" - -I looked with admiration at this young girl who spoke with such praise -of another's bravery, but was unconscious of her own. - -"But if Mrs. Melrose should be afraid there," I said, "should not you be -afraid to ride alone, at night, in our service through the dangerous -forests?" - -"I never thought of that," she replied simply. "I had ridden all about -Philadelphia before the war, and I knew the country. It seemed easy for -me to go, and I was sure that none would ever suspect me, I claimed to -be such an ardent Tory, and I seemed to be all that I claimed. Then we -needed friends in Philadelphia." - -"In truth we found the best," I replied with earnestness. - -She blushed, but did not look wholly displeased. - -"You flatter like a courtier, Lieutenant Chester," she said, "and this -is too grave a time for flattery." - -"But were you never afraid?" I persisted. - -"Once I was," she said, "when some horsemen, I know not whether they -were soldiers or robbers, pursued me. They followed me five miles; but -my horse was too swift, and when they saw the lights of the picket they -turned back. I had a pass from Sir William Howe, but I know that my hand -trembled when I showed it to the sentinels. I was too ill to leave our -house the next day, but I went again a week afterward." - -I looked with increasing wonder and admiration at the slender figure -that could dare so much. If our women even were so brave, surely our -cause could not fail! - -"Why did you talk so strangely to me when we met for the first time -after that night's ride together?" I asked. "Why did you seem to have -forgotten it or to pretend that it had never been?" - -"I did not know who and what you were as well then as I do now; Captain -Wildfoot did not tell me," she replied. "One, perforce, had to be -cautious then, Lieutenant Chester." - -"But were you not afraid that I would betray you after that ride we took -together." - -"I was sure you would not do so." - -"Why?" - -She looked me directly in the eyes for a moment, and then turned her -face away. But she was not so quick that I did not see the red coming -into her cheeks. - -We walked on among the roses in the golden sunshine, and the time was -all too short for me. - -"Will you not wish me success in the coming battle?" I asked, when they -called me to take the gold. - -"Yes, and you may wear my colors, if they will last long enough," she -said. She took one of the roses from her shoulder, and pinned it on my -coat. As she bent her head over the rose, silken strands of her hair -blew in my face. - -I forgot myself then, but I have no excuse for it now. I bent down -suddenly and kissed her. She sprang away from me, uttering a little cry, -and her cheeks were flaming red. - -"Mary," I said, "I don't ask any forgiveness. I kissed you because I -could not help myself. You were not afraid that I would betray you after -that ride to the American army, and it was because you knew that I loved -you. No, I would not have betrayed you even had I been Lieutenant -Melville, the British officer that I seemed to be. But much as I loved -you then, I love you more now. Mary, will you marry me?" - -An elusive smile came into her eyes, as she made me a pretty bow, and -replied: "Lieutenant Melville of Newton-on-the-Hill, Staffordshire, -England, I thank you for your offer, but I have resolved never to marry -an Englishman." - -Then, before I could stay her, she ran into the house. But she had left -her rose with me, and I did not despair. - -I carried the gold to General Washington, and our main force pressed -forward a little later in pursuit of the British army. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT--_At the Council Fire_ - - -The British, going from Philadelphia to New York, marched on a slightly -curving route, while we, almost parallel with them, were advancing in a -straight line; that is, they were the bent bow and we were its cord. -Therefore we held the advantage, and it was obvious that we would -overtake them. Great hopes began to rise among us. The British army was -the larger, composed of regular troops, and far better armed than ours; -but it had just given up the chief city of the colonies, and was in -retreat. It was suffering from depression, while we were elated over the -French alliance and the sudden and favorable turn of our fortunes. Many -of us believed that a heavy blow, well directed, might now end the war. -We heard, too, that it was General Washington's own hope, and it was my -fortune to discover, through personal observation, that this was so. - -It was several nights after my return with the gold. Our scouts had been -engaged in some skirmishing with British outposts, and just as the -evening fell, Marcel and I returned with a report of it. The weather was -still intensely hot, and the men, terribly tired by forced marches in -such a temperature, were lying on the ground with their faces to the -sky that they might feel the first coolness of the evening. The cooks -were preparing supper, and fires blazed here and there; but we were too -languid to show much energy, and the camp was unusually quiet. - -We made our report to the colonel; but he considered it of sufficient -importance to be heard by the general-in-chief himself, and he directed -me to take it to him. - -"You will find him among the trees," he said, pointing to a small wood. -Under the boughs of the largest tree, a fire was burning and over it -swung a camp-kettle. Several men, sitting on logs in front of the fire, -were talking earnestly, and now and then looking at a map. The one who -held the map was large and straight-shouldered, and I knew the figure to -be that of the general-in-chief. As I approached, I recognized, too, the -swarthy face of Charles Lee, the foreigner who came to us with such an -air of superior wisdom, and whom we put in high place, but whom the real -soldiers already hated. Then I recognized Wayne, with his trim figure -and fine frank eyes, Greene, the silent Rhode-Islander who afterward -became so great, and others. - -The council--if council it was--seemed to have developed some heat. -General Washington's blue eyes plainly showed anger, and Lee was -whipping his own high cavalry boots with a small switch. I approached -with much embarrassment and hesitation. My Philadelphia exploits in -company with Marcel were yet fresh in the memory of men, and to appear -presumptuous was, of all things, the one that I wished least. I was -sorry that Marcel had not been chosen to deliver the report. It was a -situation that would have pleased him. - -But General Washington saw me as I came near, and delivered me from -further embarrassment by calling to me in very kind tones,-- - -"A report for me, is it not, Lieutenant Chester?" he asked. - -I said yes, and stated it briefly, while the others listened with -attention. Then I stood awaiting the general's further orders. - -"It is just as I told you," he said emphatically to Charles Lee, and -seeming to forget my presence. "Our army will overtake theirs in three -days at furthest, and we must strike with all our strength. We may be -able to destroy Clinton's army, and then our cause will be won." - -"But Clinton has more men than we," replied Charles Lee, in protesting -tones, "and his equipment is much superior." - -"He retreats, and we pursue," said the general-in-chief. - -"That is true," rejoined Lee; "but I think we should be very cautious." - -His words and tone did not indicate zeal. How heartily I have since -cursed the traitor, and how many others have done the same. - -"And why so cautious?" burst in the impetuous Wayne. "One cannot win a -battle unless he fights!" - -"You might have found caution a good thing, General Wayne," replied Lee, -in smooth, soft tones. "Remember how they cut you up at Paoli." - -Wayne flushed with anger, but he was too manly to deny his only -disaster. - -"It is true," he said, "but the fault was mine. My troops did not get a -chance to fight. Here they will have it." - -"We shall invite our own rout," said Lee. "The Americans cannot stand -the British grenadiers." - -It was the feeling of an old race towards a new one that spoke in him, -and this man, who proved himself a traitor to two countries, the old and -new, was unwise enough to say it. - -"You are mistaken," said the commander-in-chief, promptly and -emphatically. "That is a delusion which the British may cherish, but not -we. This war has furnished too many instances to the contrary. The -attack shall be made, General Lee, and you shall lead it. We must end -this war as soon as possible, and benefit two nations; for I take it -that Englishmen do not love to kill Americans, any more than Americans -love to kill Englishmen." - -Throughout the talk Greene said nothing, sitting there upon the log, -looking calm and decided. I like this quality of stanchness in the New -Englanders. They stick fast, whatever else you may say about them, and -that I think wins more than anything else. - -I received my instructions a moment later and retired. As I walked away, -I met Marcel. - -"Was it a council of war?" he asked. - -"I think so." - -"I hope that you gave them the proper instructions." - -"I did my best," I replied in the same spirit. - -"They had no right to expect more," rejoined Marcel; "but it's a great -pity I was not in your place." - -Perhaps he would have given them advice. Marcel had great confidence in -his judgment. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE--_Under the Apple-Trees_ - - -We lay gasping under the apple-trees. The hottest sun that ever I felt -or saw, was dissolving our muscles and pinning us to the earth, mere -flaccid lumps. The heat quivered in the air, and the grass turned dry -blades to the brown soil. I ran my finger along the bare edge of my -sword, and the skin was scorched. My throat burned. - -"What a day to fight!" said Marcel. "The red coats that the British over -yonder wear blaze like fire, and I dare say are as hot. I wish I were a -private and not an officer. Then I could strip myself." - -He looked longingly at a huge soldier who had taken off coat and shirt, -and was lying on the grass, naked to the waist, his rifle ready in his -hands. - -"Leave old Father Sun alone," I said: "I believe he will settle the -business for both armies. At least he seems to be bent upon doing it." - -I tried to look up at the sun, but His Majesty met me with so fierce a -stare that I was glad to turn my eyes again, blinking, to the earth. -When they recovered from the dimness, I looked along the line of panting -soldiers, and saw one who had dropped his rifle on the grass and flung -his arms out at ease. - -"Stir up that man, there," I said; "he must keep his rifle in hand and -ready." - -"If you please, sir," said the bare-waisted soldier, "he won't be -stirred up." - -"Won't be stirred up?" I said, with natural impatience; "why won't he?" - -"Because he can't be," said the soldier. - -"Can't be?" I said, not understanding such obstinacy. "What do you -mean?" - -"He can't be stirred up," replied the soldier; "because he's dead, sir." - -I examined the man, and found that it was true. We had marched long and -hard in the stifling heat before we lay down in the orchard, and the -man, overpowered by it, had died so gently that his death was not known -to us. We let him lie there, the dead man in the ranks with the quick. - -"Doesn't the concussion of cannon and muskets cause rain sometimes?" -asked Marcel. - -"I have heard so," I replied. "Why?" - -"Because, if it does," said Marcel, "I hope the battle will be brought -on at once, and that it will be a most ferocious contention. Then it may -cause a shower heavy enough to cool us off." - -"Whether it brings rain or not," I said, "I think the battle will soon -be upon us." - -Up went the sun, redder and fiercer than ever. The heavens blazed with -his light. The men panted like dogs, and their tongues hung out. The red -coats of the British opposite us looked so bright that they dazzled my -eyes. The leaves of the apple-trees cracked and twisted up. - -"It would be funny," said Marcel, "if the British were to charge upon us -and find us all lying here in a placid row, dead, killed by the sun." - -"Yes," said I, "it would be very funny." - -"But not impossible," said the persistent Marcel. - -We lay near the little town of Freehold in the Jersey fields, where we -had overtaken the retreating British, and intended to force a battle, -although we were much inferior in numbers and equipment. - -I can say with truth that the men were eager for the fight. They had -starved long at Valley Forge, and now with full stomachs they had come -upon the heels of a flying enemy. Moreover, we had been raised up -mightily by the French alliance. We did not know then how much the -French were to disappoint us, and how little aid they were to give us -until the final glorious campaign. - -"Listen!" exclaimed a soldier near me. - -"What is it, Alloway?" I asked. - -"The battle! It's begun!" he replied. - -The sound of a rifle-shot came through the hot air across the fields, -and then many more sang together. A half mile away, under the low lines -of trees, a cloud of smoke was rising, and the base of it was red with -flashes. Presently a cannon boomed its deeper note, and the echo of -shouts came faintly. At last the battle had begun, and our men, panting -already in the heat, grew hotter with impatience. It was hard to lie -there under the burning sun while the battle swelled, without us. But we -had no choice, and we pulled at the dry grass, while we watched the -growing combat. - - - - -CHAPTER THIRTY--_The Defence of the Gun_ - - -Marcel and I, with some others, were moved presently to the outskirts -with the skirmishers. We lay among some trees by the roadside, and in -the road one of our cannon with its complement of men was stationed to -drive back a large body of the British troops which threatened us on -that wing. We did not have to wait long for the attack. The heavy red -squares of the English appeared, pressing down the road. Then the gun, a -beautiful bronze twelve-pounder, became active, and the men who fought -it were full of zeal. - -They fired for a time, working rapidly, skilfully, and without friction, -like a perfect machine, only the sergeant in command speaking, his -short, sharp orders snapping out like the crackling of a whip. The faces -of all were impassive, save for the occasional flash of an eye when a -shot beat its fellows. The gun was alive now, pouring a stream of -missiles from its bronze throat, the British replying with both cannon -and muskets. - -Presently the men fell back a little with the gun, until they came to a -hillock, and then unlimbered again just beyond the crest, where they -were somewhat sheltered. They seemed to think that the new position was -good, and they would fight where they were. Ross, the sergeant in -command, a tall, thin Jerseyman with an impassive face, gave the order -to unlimber the cannon, and the six horses dragged the limber to the -proper distance in the rear. At an almost equal distance in the rear of -the limber stood the caisson, also with its six horses. The chief of -caisson, a short, stout man, was behind the limber ready to supply -ammunition when needed, his face calm, his nerves unmoved by the roar -and blaze of the combat, which rolled towards him in a flaming curve, -tipped with steel. - -There were thirteen men with the gun and caisson, and the eyes of all -were on Sergeant Ross, who commanded it, a man worthy of his post and -fit for battle. The twelve horses stood in the rear. We were still near -them among the trees by the roadside, firing our rifles, and could hear -the few words that they said. - -"We must stay here," resumed Sergeant Ross to the corporal, his gunner, -a tall, thin Jerseyman like himself and as calm and impassive. The -corporal looked at the heavy squares pressing forward as if to crush -them, listened a moment to the swell of the battle, but said nothing. -The men were at work already, serving in silence. - -There had been no lull in the combat, and the advancing British line -looked like a red wave of fire. A shell burst over the men around the -gun, and a fragment struck the lead horse of the limber chest in the -neck. The animal uttered a single neigh of pain, and then let his head -drop, while the blood poured from his wound. His eye expressed -melancholy and resignation precisely like that of a stricken veteran. He -fell softly in a few moments, and died. - -The battle was coming very near, and made many threats. The reserve men -cut the gear of the dead horse, dragged his body aside, and replaced him -with one of the six from the caisson. They did this without comment, and -the sergeant and the gunner took no notice. - -"To your posts!" called Sergeant Ross. - -His men sprang instantly to position. No. 7 took a charge of shot and -powder from the limber chest and passed it to No. 5, who handed it to -No. 2. No. 2 inserted it in the gun, while No. 1 rammed it home. The -gunner took aim at the black mass of the British army, red at the crest -with flame. Sergeant Ross gave the command to fire, and No. 4 obeyed. -The twelve-pound shot rushed through the air, but though watching and -eager to see, the men could not tell what damage it had done. The -advancing line was hidden at that moment by the floating smoke and the -flash of the firing. Those at the gun bent to their work. No. 1 ran his -sponge into the black muzzle, swabbed out the barrel, and No. 2 inserted -a fresh charge. These impassive men seemed to show no fear; they loaded -and fired as if unconscious of the showers of balls and bullets. - -The British army pushed on, and its line of battle converged nearer, but -the men at the gun were still without emotion. This machine, whose parts -were human beings, worked in a beautiful way, and we admired them. -Again the cannon was alive, pouring forth its rapid stream of shot. - -"We must drive 'em back!" said Sergeant Ross. - -"We'll blow 'em to hell with this twelve-pounder," said the corporal. - -He patted the gun, a polished piece kept in perfect order. They fired -again, and the shattered British line crumpled up before the rage of the -twelve-pounder, which was pouring its fire into it, faster and faster; -the rows had already become thinner at that point, the bulk of the force -turning aside against the heavier Continental battalions. The hopes of -the men with the gun rose. - -"We'll mow 'em down," said No. 1, the sponger and rammer, a boy of -twenty. - -They showed feeling at last, and their faces brightened up. They were -young, in fact, boys rather than men; the oldest of them was under -twenty-five, and the youngest was not more than seventeen. - -The battle veered a little, and thundered to right and left; but the -thinner line in front of the gun was still advancing, and its muskets -threatened. A battery, a little distance in its rear, threw shot over -its head; but the regular and precise work of the men was not disturbed. - -"Depress that gun a bit!" said Ross to the corporal, in his sharp, -snapping voice. It was done. The discharge that followed swept down a -row of advancing men in red. The gunner smiled, and the captain of the -gun nodded approvingly. The cannoneers said nothing, but No. 7 passed -another cartridge. - -A shell screamed through the air, took off Sergeant Ross's head and -passed on. The corporal made no comment, but joined the duties of -captain of the gun to his own duties as gunner. The regularity and -precision of the work was not disturbed for a moment. The gun had -aroused more attention in the British lines, and it became necessary to -silence it and destroy the men who served it. It was merely a small -incident in the course of a great battle, but the gun had become an -obstacle. - -"They know we are here," said the corporal to the new gunner, a faint -smile appearing on his brown face. - -"Yes, and they are throwing us bouquets," replied the gunner, as a -shower of bullets flew over their heads. - -There was a crash in their ears, a blaze of light like that struck by -steel, and the cannon toppled over. The four men nearest it fell to the -ground, three sprang up quickly; but the fourth, who was No. 5, a -cannoneer, lay still and dead. A reserve man instantly took his place. -The others ran anxiously to the cannon. They paid no attention to the -dead man. The wounded gun was of far more importance than many men. - -"The wheel's smashed! No harm beyond that!" said the corporal. Then he -shouted,-- - -"Change wheels!" - -The rubbish was dragged away, the extra wheel, provided for such cases, -was brought as by another turn of the perfect machine from its place on -the caisson, and fitted on the axle. No. 4, a cannoneer, was killed by -a bullet while they were doing it; but the second reserve man took his -place, and the battery went on with its work as well as ever. - -The gun was fired rapidly again, and the men saw that the effect was -good; the red line of their enemy had been shattered once more. The -corporal glanced a little to the left, and said, in an unchanged voice: - -"A cavalry charge is coming; stand steady!" - -The red line of infantry was suddenly blotted out, and in its place a -line of horsemen rose out of the smoke. They were riding at a gallop, -firing from their pistols, their sabres ready for the swinging blow when -the charge was driven home, a swelling wave, edged with fire and steel. -It was a glittering and magnificent sight. - -The boys about the gun looked anxious at the sight of the cavalry, but -the corporal was calm. - -"Load with grape, triple charges!" he said, and his voice cracked louder -and sharper than ever. - -The grape, triple charges, was rammed into the twelve-pounder, and the -wonderful machine that handled the gun increased its speed. The British -cavalry galloped into a stream of fire. The gun was hidden from them by -the incessant blaze and smoke of its discharges, and the triple loads of -grape whizzed among them, killing horses and horsemen, destroying the -precision of their ordered lines, crumpling up those in front, and -heaping the dead in the way of those behind. But the unslain horsemen -galloped on, and always before them roared the engine of death, the gun, -and always about them whistled the showers of grape. Presently they -were into the flame and the smoke, and before them rose the gun and its -detachment. - -"Stretch prolonge ropes!" shouted the corporal to his men. - -The drivers cracked their whips over the horses, and whirled the caisson -and the limber chest about, bringing them, horses and all, into line -with the piece, and in a moment, heavy ropes were stretched from the -cannon to the limber chest, and from the limber chest to the caisson, -and the fighting men were crouching in their appointed positions between -the wheels, and around the gun, holding in hand their pistols and -artillery swords, short, heavy weapons with which they could slash as -with axes. The cavalry company was charging upon a breastwork held by an -armed force. - -"Let 'em have it with the pistols!" cried the corporal to his men. - -The pistols began to crack, and more holes appeared in the charging -lines of horsemen. When a trooper was hit hard in the breast or -shoulder, up went his hands, and he fell back from his horse; if struck -in the limbs, he fell forward and rolled off. Some horses that had lost -their riders kept place in the charge and galloped on. Two or three -others turned to one side, and ran about, neighing with fear and alarm, -but would not leave the field. All sprang aside when they came to a -wounded or dead man lying on the ground. - -The cavalry company was not large, and many saddles were empty before it -smashed into the gun and its defenders. Then a terrible tumult arose. -There was a confused mêlée of rearing horses, men leaning in the saddle, -firing with pistols and slashing with sabres. Other men, brown and wiry, -reaching over and bending forward among the wheels, striking upward with -short heavy swords, killing horses and riders, and darting about like -Indians, evading alike the hoofs of the horses and the slashes of the -horsemen. There was a sickening whit of steel cutting through flesh, the -gasp of last and hard-drawn breaths, and the sound of falls. The horses -became entangled among the ropes, and stumbled over the gun and caisson, -throwing their riders to the earth. The sinewy forms of their enemies -slipped in and out like snakes, escaping the blows aimed from above, but -steadily deepening the stains on their own red swords. Shouts, cries, -and the stamp of horses' feet came from the whirling ball of fire and -smoke, which began presently to throw forth men and horses. The -cavalrymen who still rode, galloped away, and those who were on foot -now, followed. Many of the horses were riderless, and they joined others -that ran up and down the field, always keeping the battle in view. Then -the ball split asunder entirely, and each half began to shred off in -fragments; the dying combat, and the men, the living and the dead, rose -out of it. The ground over which they had fought was a soaking red mire, -and the wheels of cannon, caisson, and limber were sunk deep in it. But -the cavalry had been beaten; entangled in the breastwork of the gun and -its equipment and the prolonge ropes, they had been unable to withstand -the slashing and the thrusting of the short artillery swords, and those -who lived fled to the main line of their army, knowing their defeat and -not seeking to hide it. A trumpet sounded the recall, and the riderless -horses, ceasing their restless race to and fro on the field, fell into -line like the veterans they were, and followed the bugler back to the -army which owned them. - -The men about the gun may have enjoyed their victory; but they gave no -sign, and the seven who were left, four having fallen, were reloading as -if nothing had happened to interrupt the regular firing of their one gun -battery. No. 1, the sponger and rammer, had been killed by a -pistol-shot. No. 2 had taken his place, his own place being taken in -turn by No. 3, and so on, each moving up a step in the promotion of -death. There was no reserve men now, and the force at the caisson was -reduced. The corporal was bleeding from a sabre-cut on the head; but he -took no notice of it, nor did the men comment on the appearance of his -face, which was dyed red. Such things had grown common. - -"We gave 'em hell that time," said the corporal. - -"And we can do it again," said he who had been No. 2, but now was No. 1. - -The men, though saying nothing, began to feel their victory. They were -making a great fight and they knew it. Their beloved cannon was -excelling itself. They patted the barrel and the wheels, and ran their -hands along the shining bronze, saying, "Good old boy!" and "Well done!" -The prolonge ropes were taken down, the limber chest and caisson were -sent back to the rear, and the great one gun battery again went into -action. - -"Aim at that mass of infantry across the hill there," said the corporal, -and the shot was placed in the appointed spot. - -The fires of many British guns was turned upon this cannon which had -become most annoying, stinging like a wasp. The defeat of the cavalry -furnished mortification too, and the necessity to silence the gun and -annihilate its detachment grew more imperative. A sleet of lead and iron -beat about it. A hot shot struck the limber chest, and a volcano of fire -and smoke, accompanied by a terrific explosion, gushed up. Pieces of -iron and steel and oaken wood whizzed through the air, and for a few -moments both men and horses were blinded by the dazzling burst of flame. - -The limber chest was no longer there; but a deep hole appeared in the -earth where it had been, and the space about it was strewed with old -iron. It had been blown up by the hot shot, and the corporal, who was -taking charges from the chest, and three horses were blown up with it. -The other horses, torn loose from their gear and chest, had run away, -bleeding. The new driver of the caisson cracked his whip over the heads -of his horses, and whirled the limber into the place of the limber -destroyed. The chief of caisson proceeded to supply ammunition to the -gun, which did not slacken its industry. - -The main battle rolled a little further away, and the horses and the gun -formed a projection of the American line extending into the British. But -the nature of the ground on either side, and the occupation furnished by -our army to the bulk of the British troops, protected their flanks. The -danger lay directly in front of them. - -The gun was getting hot, and they were forced to let it cool a little. - -The corporal watched the enemy, while his gun rested. He never turned -his eyes towards his comrades, knowing they would do their duty. - -"They advance slowly," he said to the new No. 1. - -"They do not like the kisses of old Hammer and Tongs here," replied No. -1, patting the gun. - -"Is that sponge burnt out?" asked the corporal. - -No. 1 did not reply. - -"Why don't you answer?" asked the corporal, a little impatiently. - -"He's quit talking," said Acting No. 2. - -The corporal did not ask, as he knew there could be only one reason for -No. 1's inability. A bullet had passed through the man's heart, and he -had died gracefully and without noise. All the men moved up another -step, but both the gun and the caisson were shorthanded. They were too -few now to have repulsed a second cavalry charge; but, luckily for them, -the second charge was not forthcoming. Infantry and guns alone were -before them. - -"Begin firing!" said the corporal. - -The silent Jerseyman who was chief of caisson passed the charges, and in -a moment the deep note of the gun blended with the surge and roar of the -battle. Shot followed shot. The machine was reduced, but no change was -apparent in the quantity or quality of its work. - -"The old gun can still talk good English," said the corporal, with -intense satisfaction. - -A fragment of grape cut him in half. The chief of caisson was promoted -to the command of the gun, and took his new office without friction or -delay. Six men with such a willing and experienced cannon could yet hold -eloquent converse with their enemy. Still there were disadvantages. The -force at the limber was so small that the charges were handled with -difficulty, and the firing speed was reduced. The hostile line of battle -was pressing alarmingly near, and, moreover, it had begun at last to -converge on the flanks of the gun. Although we with our rifles were -protecting them as much as we could, one of the reserve men looked -behind him and spoke of retreat. - -"This gun is tired of retreating," said the new captain. "It stays right -here, and we stay with it." - -Fierce and defiant, the rapid note of the twelve-pounder boomed out. - -A minute later the new wheel that had been supplied to it from the -caisson was smashed like its predecessor by a round shot; to fill its -place, they took off the hinder part of the caisson, leaving it a -cripple, and put it on the gun, which became again as good as new. - -The fire of the twelve-pounder was undiminished. - -"We still hold 'em back; we've won our day's pay and perhaps a little -more," remarked the new captain, rather in a tone of soliloquy than -address. - -The balance of pay was never collected. A whiff of grape exterminated -him and the man who stood nearest him, and the gun had only four -assistants in its work. Two of these four men were wounded, and they -might have thought of retreat; but a shot struck the caisson, blew it -up, and killed the drivers, and all the horses except two. It was no -longer possible to carry away the gun, and the three men who were left -would not abandon it to the enemy. - -The surviving horses hovered near, turning about in a small circle. - -The man who had been No. 5, a cannoneer, was the senior, and took -command. He was wounded, but he lost little blood and concealed the -hurt. - -"Shall we run?" asked one of his comrades. - -"One more shot for good count!" he replied. - -They aimed with deliberation, though the balls and bullets rained around -them. The cannoneer chose the densest red of the advancing mass, and -sent the shot straight to the mark. Before the smoke from the discharge -sank, three British shells burst, almost simultaneously, among the last -defenders, and when the smoke cleared no one was standing there. The -gun, blown from its wheels and torn open at the breech, was useless -forever. - - - - -CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE--_A Battle and An Answered Question_ - - -The gun and its defenders were gone, but the heavy British force had -been held off our flank long enough to suit our purpose. Our line, -during the interval, had extended itself in such a manner that now it -could not be surrounded, and we resumed our original place in the -centre, where the battle was increasing. - -The columns of smoke before us rose and broadened, the flashes of fire -that shot through it, increased and twinkled in thousands. The shouting -came more distinctly to our ears, and the drifting smoke made the dense -tremulous heat more oppressive. I knew that Charles Lee commanded our -engaged division, and, having in mind the talk at the council fire, I -was uneasy. If only Wayne or Greene were there! - -The cloud of fire and smoke suddenly began to move towards us, and the -shouting grew louder. The battle was shifting its face, and approaching -us. It had but one meaning, and that was the retreat of the Americans. A -universal groan arose from our ranks. - -"It can't be! It can't be!" shouted Marcel, and he swore. - -But it was. Across the fields came our men in full flight, with Charles -Lee himself, thrice-accursed traitor, at their head. All the world knows -how he ordered his own men to flee, when they were winning the victory, -and it need be told to no one what such a movement would mean to an army -in the height of a battle. I could have wept for despair at this lost -opportunity, at this useless flight which might mean our own -destruction. On streamed the fugitives, and suddenly a great man on a -great horse galloped forward to meet them. Everybody in our company knew -that the rider was Washington, and we uttered a mighty shout. Then we -were silent, while Washington rode directly in front of Charles Lee, and -stopped his horse across his path. - -We could not hear the words that were said, the words that must have -burned into the man's soul; but we saw the red, wrathful face of -Washington, and the white, scared face of Lee. Never was Washington so -fiercely angry, and never with better cause. Branding the traitor with -hot words, he sent him away under arrest, and then, among the stinging -bullets, he reformed the men, who cheered their great commander, turned -their faces to the enemy, and began anew the battle that had been all -but lost. - -"Leftenant," said the bare-waisted man, who had been so thirsty, and who -had accompanied us with the skirmishers, "ain't it about time to let us -have another drink? The inside of my throat's so dry it's scalin' off." - -We had filled our canteens with water before this last march; but I had -allowed my men to drink but sparingly, knowing how much they would need -it later. Now I pitied them as well as myself, and I gave the word to -turn up the canteens; but I ordered that the drink should be a very -short one. - -Up went the canteens as if they had been so many muskets raised to -command. There was a deep grateful gurgle and cluck along the whole line -as the water poured into the half-charred throats of the men. But Marcel -and I had to draw our swords and threaten violence before they would -take the canteens away from their lips. - -"Leftenant," said the bare-waisted man, reproachfully, "I was right in -heaven then, and you pulled me out by the legs." - -"Then you may be sent back to heaven or the other place soon enough," I -said, "for here come the British. Ready, men!" - -"Confound the British!" growled the big man. "I don't mind them, but I -hate to be baked afore my time." - -The British opposite the orchard, who, like ourselves, had been waiting, -were forming in line for an attack. The trumpets were blowing gayly, and -the throbbing of the drums betokened the coming conflict. Presently -across the fields they came, a long line of flashing bayonets and red -coats, with the cavalry on either wing galloping down upon us. General -Wayne himself passed along our line, and, like Putnam at Bunker Hill, -told our men to be steady and hold their fire until the enemy were so -close that they could not miss. - -The British fired a volley at us as they rushed across the fields, and -then, with many an old score to settle, we rose and poured into them, at -short range, a fire that swept away their front ranks and staggered the -column. But they recovered, and charged us with the bayonets, and we met -them with clubbed rifles, for few of us had bayonets. - -In a moment we were in a fierce turmoil of cracking guns, flashing -swords, and streaming blood and sweat. The grass was trampled into the -earth; the dust arose and clogged our throats and blinded our eyes. Over -us the sun, as if rejoicing in the strife and seeking to add to it, -poured his fiercest rays upon us, and men fell dead without a wound upon -them. A British sergeant rushed at me with drawn sword when I was -engaged with another man, and I thought the road to another world was -opening before me; but when the Englishman raised his sword to strike, -the weapon dropped from his limp fingers to the ground, and he fell -over, slain by the sun. - -Had the cavalry been lucky enough to get in among us with their sabres, -they might have broken our lines and thrust us out of the orchard; but -we had emptied many a saddle before they could come up, and the horses -that galloped about without riders did as much harm to the enemy as to -us. The British showed most obstinate courage, and their leader, a fine -man, Colonel Monckton, I afterwards learned his name to be, encouraged -them with shouts and the waving of his sword, until a bullet killed him, -and he fell between the struggling lines. - -"Come on!" I shouted, under the impulse of the moment, to the men near -me. "We will take off his body!" - -Then we rushed upon the British column. Some of our men seized the body -of their fallen leader, and they made a fierce effort to regain it. But -the British did not have raw militia to deal with this time, and, -however stern they were in the charge, equally stern were we in -resisting it. The colonel's body became the prize for which both of us -fought; and we retained our hold upon it. - -The clamor increased, and the reek of blood and sweat thickened. The -pitiless sun beat upon us, and rejoiced as we slew each other. But, -however they strove against us, we held fast to the colonel's body; nay, -more, we gained ground. Twice the British charged us with all their -strength, and each time we hurled them back. Then they gave up the -struggle, as well they might, and with honor too, and fell back, leaving -us our apple orchard and their colonel's body. We had no intent but to -give suitable burial to the fallen chief, and a guard was formed to -escort his remains to the rear. - -As the broken red line gave ground, some of their men turned and fired a -few farewell shots at us. I felt a smart blow on my skull, as if some -one had suddenly tapped me there with a hammer. As I threw up my hands -with involuntary motion to see what ailed me, black clouds passed of a -sudden before my eyes, and the earth began to reel beneath me. Marcel, -who was standing near, turned towards me with a look of alarm upon his -face. Then the earth slid away from me, and I fell. Ere I touched the -ground my senses were gone. - -When I opened my eyes again, I thought that only a few minutes had -passed since I fell; for above me waved the boughs of one of the very -apple-trees beneath which we had fought. Moreover, there were soldiers -about, and the signs of fierce contention with arms were still visible. -But when I put one of my hands to my head, which felt heavy and dull, I -found that it was swathed in many bandages. - -"Lie still," said a friendly voice, and the next moment the face of -Marcel was bending over me. "You should thank your stars that your skull -is so thick and hard, for that British bullet glanced off it and -inflicted but a scalp-wound. As it is, you have nothing but good luck. -The commander-in-chief himself has been to see you, and has called you a -most gallant youth. Also, you have the best nurse in America, who, -moreover, takes a special interest in your case." - -"But the army! The battle!" I said. - -"Disturb not your mighty mind about them," said Marcel. "We failed to -destroy the enemy, having to leave that for a later day; but we won the -battle, and the British army is retreating towards New York. I imitate -it, and now retreat before your nurse." - -He went away, and then Mary Desmond stood beside me. But her face was no -longer haughty and cold. - -"You here!" I cried. "How did this happen?" - -"When the American army followed the retreating British, we knew there -would be a battle," she said. "So I came with other women to nurse the -wounded, and one of them I have watched over a whole night." - -She smiled most divinely. - -"Then, Mary," I cried, with an energy that no wound could lessen, "will -you not marry an American?" - -Her answer? - -It was not in words, but I saw in her eyes the light that shines for -only one, and I asked no more. - - -THE END - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In Hostile Red, by Joseph Altsheler - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN HOSTILE RED *** - -***** This file should be named 41050-8.txt or 41050-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/0/5/41050/ - -Produced by D Alexander, Josephine Paolucci and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. 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