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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd2ee34 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66327 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66327) diff --git a/old/66327-0.txt b/old/66327-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c511eac..0000000 --- a/old/66327-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7421 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sun of Saratoga, by Joseph Alexander -Altsheler - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Sun of Saratoga - A Romance of Burgoyne's Surrender - -Author: Joseph Alexander Altsheler - -Release Date: September 17, 2021 [eBook #66327] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive/American - Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUN OF SARATOGA *** - -Appletons’ -Town and Country -Library - -No. 216 - - -THE SUN OF SARATOGA -A ROMANCE OF BURGOYNE’S SURRENDER - - - - -THE SUN -OF SARATOGA - -A Romance of Burgoyne’s Surrender - -BY - -JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER - -[Illustration: Logo] - -NEW YORK -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY -1897 - - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1897, -BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. - - - - -CONTENTS. - -CHAPTER PAGE - I.--ON WATCH 1 - - II.--A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW 16 - - III.--A SHOT FROM THE WINDOW 29 - - IV.--OUT OF THE HOUSE 49 - - V.--MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 62 - - VI.--BELT’S GHOST 77 - - VII.--IN BURGOYNE’S CAMP 91 - - VIII.--A NIGHT UNDER FIRE 108 - - IX.--MY GUIDE 118 - - X.--THE SUN OF SARATOGA 132 - - XI.--THE NIGHT AFTER 143 - - XII.--WE RIDE SOUTHWARD 155 - - XIII.--WE MEET THE FLEET 169 - - XIV.--THE PURSUIT OF CHUDLEIGH 186 - - XV.--THE TAKING OF CHUDLEIGH 199 - - XVI.--THE RETURN WITH CHUDLEIGH 219 - - XVII.--MY THANKS 232 - -XVIII.--THE BATTLE OF THE GUNS 246 - - XIX.--THE MAN FROM CLINTON 259 - - XX.--NOT A DROP TO DRINK 274 - - XXI.--THE MESSENGER 295 - - XXII.--CAPITULATIONS 310 - - - - -THE SUN OF SARATOGA. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -ON WATCH. - - -“You will watch this hollow and the hill yonder,” said the general, -“and see that not a soul passes either to the north or to the south. -Don’t forget that the fate of all the colonies may depend upon your -vigilance.” - -Then he left me. - -I felt much discomfort. I submit that it is not cheering to have the -fate of thirteen large colonies and some two or three million people, -men, women, and children, depend upon one’s own humble self. I like -importance, but not when it brings such an excess of care. - -I looked to Sergeant Whitestone for cheer. - -“We are not the only men on watch to cut off their messengers,” he -said. “We have our bit of ground here to guard, and others have -theirs.” - -Then he sat down on the turf and smoked his pipe with provoking calm, -as if the troubles of other people were sufficient to take our own -away. I decided to stop thinking about failure and address myself to my -task. Leaving the sergeant and the four men who constituted my small -army, I took a look about me. The hollow was but a few hundred yards -across, sparse-set with trees and bushes. It should not be difficult to -guard it by day, but by night it would be a different matter. On the -hill I could see the walls and roof of the Van Auken house. That, too, -fell within my territory, and for reasons sufficient to me I was sorry -of it. - -I walked part of the way up the hillside, spying out the ground and -seeing what places for concealment there might be. I did not mean to be -lax in my duty in any particular. I appreciated its full import. The -great idea that we might take Burgoyne and his whole army was spreading -among us, and it was vital that no news of his plight should reach -Clinton and the other British down below us. - -I came back to Sergeant Whitestone, who was still sitting on the -ground, puffing out much smoke, and looking very content. - -“I don’t think we need fear any attempt to get through until night,” he -said. “The dark is the time for messengers who don’t want to be seen.” - -I agreed with him, and found a position of comfort upon the grass. - -“There’s our weak point,” said the sergeant, waving his hand toward the -Van Auken house. - -I was sorry to hear him say so, especially as I had formed the same -opinion. - -“But there’s nobody up there except women,” I said. - -“The very reason,” replied the sergeant. - -I occupied myself for a little while tossing pebbles at a tree. Then I -disposed my men at suitable distances along our line, and concluded to -go up to the house, which going, in good truth, was part of my duty. - -I was near the top of the hill when I saw Kate Van Auken coming to meet -me. - -“Good morning, Dick,” she said. - -“Good morning, Mistress Catherine,” I replied. - -It had been my habit to call her Kate when we were children together, -but I could not quite manage it now. - -“You are set as a guard upon us?” she said. - -“To protect you from harm,” I replied with my most gallant air. - -“Your manners are improving,” she said in what I thought rather a -disdainful tone. - -“I must search the house,” I continued. - -“You call that protecting us?” she said with the same touch of sarcasm. - -“Nevertheless it must be done,” I said, speaking in my most positive -manner. - -She led the way without further demur. Now I had every confidence in -Kate Van Auken. I considered her as good a patriot as myself, though -all her family were Tory. It did not seem to me to be at all likely -that any spy or messenger of the British had reached the concealment of -the house, but it was my duty to be sure. - -“Perhaps you would not care to talk to my mother?” she asked. - -“No!” I replied in such haste that she laughed. - -I knew Madame Van Auken was one of the most fanatic Tories in New York -colony, and I had no mind to face her. It is curious how women are more -hard-set than men in these matters. But in my search of the house I -was compelled to pass through the room where she sat, most haughty and -severe. Kate explained what I was about. She never spoke to me, though -she had known me since I was a baby, but remained rigid in her armchair -and glowered at me as if I were a most wretched villain. I confess that -I felt very uncomfortable, and was glad when we passed on to another -room. - -As I had expected, I found nothing suspicious in the house. - -“I hope you are satisfied?” said Miss Van Auken when I left. - -“For the present,” I replied, bowing. - -I rejoined Sergeant Whitestone in the hollow. He was still puffing at -his pipe, and I do not think he had changed his position by the breadth -of a hair. I told him I had found nothing at the house, and asked what -he thought of the case. - -“We may look for work to-night, I think,” he replied very gravely. -“It’s most likely that the British will try to send somebody through -at this point. All the Van Aukens, except the women, are with Burgoyne, -and as they know the ground around here best they’ll go to Burgoyne and -have him send the men this way.” - -That was my thought too. Whitestone is a man of sound judgment. I sent -two of our lads toward the house, with instructions to watch it, front -and rear. It was my intent to visit them there later. - -Then I joined Whitestone in a friendly pipe and found much consolation -in the good tobacco. Kate’s manner had nettled me the least bit, but -I reflected that perhaps she was justified, as so many of her people -were with Burgoyne, and, moreover, she was betrothed to Chudleigh, an -Englishman. Chudleigh, an officer with Tryon in New York before the -war, had come down from Canada with Burgoyne. So far as I knew he had -passed safely through the last battle. - -I had naught in particular against Chudleigh, but it seemed to me that -he might find a wife in his own country. - -The day was slow. I would rather have been with the army, where there -was bustle and the hope of great things, but Whitestone, a pack of -lazy bones, grunted with content. He stretched his long body on the -ground and stared up at the sky through half-closed eyes. A mellow sun -shone back at him. - -Toward noon I sent one of the men to the house with a request for some -small supply of provision, if they could spare it. We had food, a -little, but we wanted more. Perhaps I ought to have gone myself, but I -had my reasons. The man came back with two roast chickens. - -“The old lady gave me a blessing,” he said with a sour face, “and said -she’d die before she’d feed rebels against the best king that ever -lived; but the girl gave me these when I came out the back way.” - -We ate our dinner, and then I changed the sentinels at the house. -Whitestone relapsed into his apparent lethargy, but I knew that the -man, despite his seeming, was all vigilance and caution. - -We looked for no happenings before dark, but it was yet a good four -hours to set of sun when we heard a noise in the south and saw some -dust rising far down the hollow. - -Sergeant Whitestone rose quickly to his feet, smothered the fire in -his pipe, and put his beloved companion in an inside pocket of his -waistcoat. - -“A party coming,” I said. - -“Yes, and a lot of ’em, too, I think,” he replied, “or they wouldn’t -raise so much dust.” - -One of the men ran down from the hill where the view was better, and -announced that a large body of soldiers was approaching. I called all -the others and we stood to our arms, though we were convinced that the -men marching were our own. Either the British would come with a great -army or not at all. - -The approaching troops, two hundred at least, appeared down the valley. -The dust encased them like armor, and one can not tell what a soldier -is by the dirt on his uniform. Whitestone took one long and critical -look and then unbuttoned his coat and drew out his pipe. - -“What are they?” I asked. - -“Virginians,” he replied. “I know their stride. I’ve served with ’em. -Each step they take is exactly two inches longer than ours. They got it -hunting ’possums at night.” - -They were in loose order like men who have marched far, but their faces -were eager, and they were well armed. We halted them, as our duty bade -us, and asked who they were. - -“Re-enforcements for the Northern army,” said the captain at their -head. He showed us an order from our great commander-in-chief himself. - -“Where is Burgoyne?” he asked as soon as I had finished the letter. “Is -he still coming south?” - -“He is but a few miles beyond you,” I replied, “and he will come no -farther south. There has been a great battle and we held him fast.” - -They gave a cheer, and some threw up their hats. To understand our -feelings one must remember that we had been very near the edge of the -ice, and more than once thought we would go over. - -All their weariness gone, these long-legged Southerners shouldered -their rifles and marched on to join the great belt of strong arms and -stout hearts that was forming around the doomed Burgoyne and his army. -As they passed, Sergeant Whitestone took his pipe out of his mouth and -said: - -“Good boys!” - -Which was short, but which was much for him. - -I watched their dusty backs as they tramped up the valley. - -“You seem to admire them,” said some one over my shoulder. - -“It is they and their fellows who will take Burgoyne, Mistress -Catherine,” I replied. - -“They can’t stand before the British bayonet,” she said. - -“Sorry to dispute the word of so fair a lady,” I replied, meaning to be -gallant, “but I was at the last battle.” - -She laughed, as if she did not think much of my words. She said no -more, but watched the marching Virginians. I thought I saw a little -glow as of pride come in her face. They curved around a hill and passed -out of sight. - -“Good-by!” said Mistress Kate. “That’s all I wanted to see here.” - -She went back to the house and we resumed our tedious watch. Whitestone -had full warrant for his seeming apathy. After the passage of the -Virginians there was naught to stir us in the slightest. Though born -and bred a countryman, I have never seen anything more quiet and -peaceful than that afternoon, although two large armies lay but a short -distance away, resting from one bloody battle and waiting for another. - -No one moved at the house. Everybody seemed to be asleep there. Some -birds chattered undisturbed in the trees. The air had the crisp touch -of early autumn, and faint tokens of changing hues were appearing -already in the foliage. I felt a sleepy languor like that which early -spring puts into the blood. In order to shake it off I began a thorough -search of the country thereabouts. I pushed my way through the bushes, -and tramped both to the north and to the south as far as I dared -go from my post. Then I visited the guards who adjoined my little -detachment on either side. They had to report only the same calm that -prevailed at our part of the line. I went back to Sergeant Whitestone. - -“Better take it easy,” advised he. “When there’s nothing to do, do it, -and then be fresh to do it when there’s something to do.” - -I took his advice, which seemed good, and again made myself comfortable -on the ground, waiting for the coming of the night. It was still -an hour to set of sun when we saw a mounted officer coming from the -north where our army lay. We seemed to be his destination, as he rode -straight toward us. I recognized Captain Martyn at once. I did not like -this man. I had no particular reason for it, though I have found often -that the lack of reason for doing a thing is the very strongest reason -why we do it. I knew little about Captain Martyn. He had joined the -Northern army before I arrived, and they said he had done good service, -especially in the way of procuring information about the enemy. - -Whitestone and I sat together on the grass. The other men were on guard -at various points. Captain Martyn came on at a good pace until he -reached us, when he pulled up his horse with a smart jerk. - -“Your watch is over,” he said to me without preliminary. “You are to -withdraw with your men at once.” - -I was taken much aback, as any one else in my place would have been -also. I had received instructions to keep faithful guard over that -portion of the line for the long period of twenty-four hours--that is, -until the next morning. - -“But this must be a mistake,” I protested. “There is nobody to relieve -us. Surely the general can not mean to leave the line broken at this -point.” - -“If you have taken the direction of the campaign, perhaps you had best -notify our generals that they are superseded,” he said in a tone most -ironical. - -He aroused my stubbornness, of which some people say I have too much, -and I refused to retire until he showed me a written order to that -effect from the proper officer. Not abating his ironical manner one -whit, he held it toward me in an indifferent way, as much as to say, -“You can read it or not, just as you choose; it does not matter to me.” - -It was addressed to me, and notified me briefly to withdraw at once -with my men and rejoin my company, stationed not less than ten miles -away. Everything, signature included, was most proper, and naught was -left for me to do but to obey. The change was no affair of mine. - -“Does that put your mind at rest?” asked Martyn. - -“No, it does not,” I replied, “but it takes responsibility from me.” - -Sergeant Whitestone called the men, and as we marched over the hill -Martyn turned his horse and galloped back toward the army. When he had -passed out of sight behind the trees I ordered the men to stop. - -“Whitestone,” said I to the sergeant, who, as I have said before, was a -man of most acute judgment, “do you like this?” - -“Small liking have I for it,” he replied. “It is the most unmilitary -proceeding I ever knew. It may be that our relief is coming, but it -should have arrived before we left.” - -I took out the order again, and after scanning it with care passed it -to Whitestone. - -Neither of us could see anything wrong with it. But the sergeant’s -manner confirmed me in a resolution I had taken before I put the -question to him. - -“Sergeant,” I said, “every man in our army knows of what great import -it is that no messenger from the British should get through our lines. -We are leaving unguarded a place wide enough for a whole company to -pass. I think I’ll go back there and resume guard. Will you go with -me?” - -He assented with most cheerful alacrity, and when I put the question -to the others, stating that I left them to do as they pleased, all -joined me. For what they believed to be the good of the cause they were -willing to take the risks of disobedience, and I was proud of them. - -I looked about me from the crest of the hill, but Martyn was out of -sight. We returned to the valley and I posted my men in the same -positions as before, my forebodings that it would be a night of action -increased by this event. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW. - - -Two of my men were stationed near the house, but I had so placed them -that they could not be seen by any one inside. I had also concealed our -return from possible watchers there. I had an idea, which I confided to -Whitestone, and in which, with his usual sound sense, he agreed with -me. He and I remained together in the valley and watched the night come. - -The sun seemed to me to linger long at the edge of the far hills, but -at last his red rim went out of sight, and the heavy darkness which -precedes the moonlight fell upon the earth. - -“If anything happens, it will happen soon,” said Whitestone. - -That was obvious, because if Martyn meditated treachery, it would be -important for him to carry it out before the unguarded point in the -line was discovered. Officially it was unguarded, because we were -supposed to have gone away and stayed away. - -My suspicions were confirmed by the non-arrival of our relief. -Whitestone still took his ease, stretched out on the ground in the -valley. I knew he missed his pipe, but to light it would serve as a -warning in the dark to any one. I visited the two men near the house -and cautioned them to relax their watch in no particular. - -The night was now well begun and I could see no great distance. As I -turned away from the last man I chanced to look up at the house, whose -shape was but a darker shadow in the darkness. At a narrow window high -up, where the sloping eaves converged, I saw a light. Perhaps I would -not have thought much of it, but the light was moved from side to side -with what seemed to me to be regular and deliberate motion. It faced -the north, where our army lay. - -I walked twenty steps or so, still keeping the light in view. Its -regular swinging motion from side to side did not cease, and I could -not persuade myself that it was not intended as a signal to some one. -The discovery caused in me a certain faintness at the heart, for until -this night I had thought Kate Van Auken, despite mother, brother, and -all else, was a true friend to our cause through all. - -I own I was in great perplexity. At first I was tempted to enter the -house, smash the light, and denounce her in my most eloquent language. -But I quickly saw the idea was but folly, and would stand in the way -of our own plans. I leaned against an oak tree and kept my eyes fixed -on the light. Though the windows in the house were many, no other -light was visible, which seemed strange to me, for it was very early. -Back and forth it swung, and then it was gone with a suddenness which -made me rub my eyes to see if it were not still there; nothing ailed -them. The building was a huge black shadow, but no light shone from it -anywhere. - -I went in a mighty hurry to Whitestone and told him what I had seen. He -loosened the pistol in his belt and said he thought the time for us to -make discoveries had come. Once more I agreed with him. - -I drew my own pistol, that it might be ready to my hand, if need be, -and we walked a bit up the valley. It was very dark and we trusted -more to our ears than to our eyes, in which trust we were not deceived, -for speedily we heard a faint but regular thump, thump, upon the earth. - -“A horse coming,” I said. - -“And probably a horseman, too,” said Whitestone. - -How glad was I that we had stayed! It was not at all likely that the -man coming had any honest business there. We stepped a trifle to one -side and stood silent, while the tread of the horse’s hoofs grew -louder. In a few moments the horseman was near enough for us to see his -face even in the night, and I felt no surprise, though much anger, when -I recognized Captain Martyn. He was riding slowly, in order that he -might not make much noise, I supposed. - -I stepped forward and put my hand upon his bridle rein. He saw who -it was and uttered an exclamation; but after that he recovered his -self-control with a quickness most astonishing. - -“How dare you stop me in such a sudden and alarming manner?” he said -with an appearance of great wrath. - -But, very sure now that I was right, I intended neither to be deceived -nor overborne. I ordered him to dismount and surrender himself. - -“You are very impertinent, sir,” he said, “and need chastisement.” - -I told him it mattered not, and ordered him again to dismount. For -reply he drew a pistol with such suddenness that I could not guard -against it and fired point-blank at my face. It was the kindly darkness -making his aim bad that saved me. The bullet passed me, but the smoke -and flash blinded me. - -The traitor lashed his horse in an attempt to gallop by us, but -Whitestone also fired, his bullet striking the horse and not the man. -The animal, in pain, reared and struck out with his feet. Martyn -attempted to urge him forward but failed. Then he slipped from his back -and ran into the bushes. My eyes were clear now, and Whitestone and I -rushed after him. - -I noted from the very first that the man ran toward the house, and -again, even in that moment of excitement, I congratulated myself that I -had expected treason and collusion and had come back to my post. - -I saw the captain’s head appearing just above some of the short bushes -and raised my pistol to fire at him, but before I could get the proper -aim he was out of sight. We increased our efforts in fear lest we -should lose him, and a few steps further heard a shot which I knew came -from one of my men on guard. We met the man running toward us, his -empty rifle in his hand. He told us the fugitive had turned the corner -of the house, and I felt that we had trapped him then, for the second -man on guard there would be sure to stop him. - -We pressed forward and met the man from behind the house, attracted -by the sound of shots. He said nobody had appeared there. I turned to -a side door, convinced that Martyn had found refuge in the house. It -was no time to stand upon courtesy, or to wait for an invitation to -enter. The door was locked, but Whitestone and I threw our full weight -against it at the same time, and it flew open under the impact of some -twenty-five stone. - -We fell into a dark hall and scrambled in pressing haste to our feet. I -paused a moment that I might direct the soldiers to surround the house -and seize any one who came forth. Then we turned to face Madame Van -Auken, who was coming toward us, a candle in her hand, a long white -robe around her person, and a most icy look on her face. - -She began at once a very fierce attack upon us for disturbing quiet -folks abed. I have ever stood in dread of woman’s tongue, to which -there is but seldom answer, but I explained in great hurry that a -traitor had taken refuge in her house, and search it again we must, if -not with her consent, then without it. She repelled me with extreme -haughtiness, saying such conduct was unworthy of men who pretended to -breeding; but, after all, it was no more than she ought to expect from -ungrateful rebels. - -Her attack, most unwarranted, considering the fact that a traitor had -just hid in her house, stirred some spleen in me, and I bade her very -stiffly to stand out of the way. Another light appeared just then at -the head of the stairway, and Mistress Kate came down, fully dressed, -looking very fine and handsome too, with a red flame in either cheek. - -She demanded the reason of our entry with a degree of haughtiness -inferior in no wise to her mother’s. Again I explained, angered at -these delays made by women who, handsome or not, may appear sometimes -when they are not wanted. - -“Take the men, all except one to watch at the door, and search the -house at once, sergeant,” said I. - -Whitestone, with an indifference to their bitter words most -astonishing, led his men upstairs and left me to endure it all. I -pretended not to hear, and taking the candle suddenly from Kate’s hands -turned into a side room and began to poke about the furniture. But they -followed me there. - -“I suppose you think this is very shrewd and very noble,” said Kate -with a fine irony. - -I did not reply, but poked behind a sideboard with my pistol muzzle. -Both Kate and her mother seemed to me, despite their efforts to repress -it, to manifest a very great uneasiness. I did not wonder at it, for I -knew they must fear to be detected in their collusion with the traitor. -Kate continued to gibe at me. - -“Oh, well, it’s not Captain Chudleigh I’m looking for,” said I at last. - -“And in truth if it were, you’d be afraid to find him,” replied she, a -sprightly flash appearing in her eye. - -I said no more, content with my hit. I found no one below stairs, and -joined Whitestone on the second floor, the women still following me -and upbraiding me. I looked more than once at Kate, and I could see -that she was all in a tremor. I doubted not it arose from a belief that -I had discovered her treachery, as well as from a fear that we would -capture the chief traitor. - -Whitestone had not yet found our man, though he had been in every room -on the second floor and even into the low-roofed garret. At this the -two women became more contumelious, crying out that we were now shamed -by our own acts. But we were confident that the man was yet in the -house. I pushed into a large room which seemed to serve as a spare -chamber. We had entered it once before, but I thought a more thorough -search might be made. In one corner, some dresses hanging against the -wall reached to the floor. I prodded one of them with my fist and -encountered something soft. - -The dress was dashed aside and our man sprang out. There was a low -window at the end of the room, and with one bound he was through it. -Whitestone fired at his disappearing body, but missed. We heard a -second shot from the man on guard below, and then we rushed pell-mell -down the stairs to pursue him. - -I bethought me at the door to bid one of the men stay and watch the -house, for I knew not what further treachery the women might meditate. -This stopped me only a moment, and then I ran after Whitestone, who was -some steps in the lead. We overtook the man who had fired at Martyn, -and he said he had hit him, so he thought. - -“When he sprang from the window he rose very light from the ground,” he -said, “and I don’t think the fall hurt him much.” - -We saw Martyn some twenty yards or more in advance of us, running -toward the south. It was of double importance now that we should -overtake him, for if we did not he would be beyond our lines, and, -barring some improbable chance, would escape to Clinton with a report -of Burgoyne’s condition. - -The fugitive curved here and there among the shadows but could not -shake us off. I held my loaded pistol in my hand and twice or thrice -had a chance for a fair shot at him, but I never raised the weapon. -I could shoot at a man in the heat of battle or the flurry of a -sudden moment of excitement, but not when he was like a fleeing hare. -Moreover, I preferred to take him alive. - -The moon was coming out, driving away part of the darkness, and on the -bushes I noticed some spots of blood. Then the fugitive had been hit, -and I was glad I had not fired upon him, for we would be certain to -take him wounded. - -The course led over pretty rough ground. Whitestone was panting at my -elbow, and two of the men lumbered behind us. The fugitive began to -waver, and presently I noticed that we were gaining. Suddenly Martyn -began to cast his hands as if he were throwing something from him, and -we saw little bits of white paper fluttering in the air. I divined -on the instant that, seeing his certain capture, he was tearing up -traitorous papers. We wanted those papers as well as their bearer. - -I shouted to him to halt lest I fire. He flung a whole handful of -scraps from him. Just then he came to a stump; he stopped abruptly, -sat down upon it with his face to us, and drawing a pistol from his -pocket, put it to his own head and fired. - -I was never more shocked in my life, the thing was so sudden. He slid -off the stump to the ground, and when we reached him he was quite dead. -We found no letters upon him, as in the course of his flight he had -succeeded in destroying them all. But I had not the slightest doubt -the order he had given to me would soon prove to be a forgery. His own -actions had been sufficient evidence of that. - -I directed Whitestone to take the body to some safe place and we would -give it quiet burial on the morrow. I did not wish the women to know of -the man’s terrible fate, though I owed them scant courtesy for the way -they had treated me. - -Leaving Whitestone and one of the soldiers to the task, I went back to -the house alone. - -Mistress Kate and her mother were at the door, both in a state of high -excitement. - -“Did he escape?” asked Madame Van Auken. - -“No,” I replied, telling the truth in part and a lie in part. “We -captured him, and the men are now taking him back to the army.” - -She sighed deeply. Mistress Kate said nothing, though her face was of a -great paleness. - -“I will not upbraid you with what I call treachery,” I said, speaking -to them both, “and I will not disturb you again to-night. It is not -necessary.” - -I said the last rather grimly, but I observed some of the paleness -depart from Mistress Kate’s countenance and a look strangely like that -of relief come into her eyes. I was sorry, for it seemed to me to -indicate more thought of her own and her mother’s peace than of the -fate of the man whom we had taken. But there was naught to say, and I -left them without the courtesy of a good night on either side. - -Whitestone and the men returned presently from their task, and I posted -the guards as before, confident that no traitor could pass while I was -on watch there. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -A SHOT FROM THE WINDOW. - - -Whitestone and I held a small conference in the dark. Though regretting -that the matter had ended in such tragic way, we believed we had done -a great thing, and I am not loath to confess that I expected words of -approval the next day when we would take the news of it to the army. We -agreed that we must not relax our vigilance in the smallest particular, -for where there was one plot there might be a dozen. Whitestone went -down into the valley while I remained near the house. - -In my lonely watch I had great space for thought. I was grieved by my -discoveries in regard to Kate Van Auken. Of a truth she was nothing -to me, being betrothed, moreover, to Chudleigh the Englishman; but we -had been children together, and it was not pleasing to believe her a -patriot and find her a traitor. I could get no sort of satisfaction -out of such thoughts, and turning them aside walked about with vigor in -an attempt to keep myself from becoming very sleepy. - -The moon was still showing herself, and I could see the house very -well. No light had appeared in it since our last withdrawal, but -looking very closely I saw what appeared to be a dark shadow at one of -the windows. I knew that room to be Mistress Kate’s, and I surmised -that she was there seeking to watch us. I resolved in return that I -would watch her. I stepped back where I would be sheltered by a tree -from her sight, and presently had my reward. The window was opened -gently and a head, which could be none other than that of Kate, was -thrust out a bit. - -I could see her quite well, even the features of her face. She was -looking very earnestly into the surrounding night, and of a truth -anxiety was writ plainly on her countenance. She stretched her head out -farther and examined all the space before the house. I was hidden from -her gaze, but down in a corner of the yard she could see the sentinel -pacing back and forth. She inspected him with much earnestness for -some time, and then withdrew her head, closing the window. - -I was of the opinion that some further mischief was afoot or intended, -but the nature of it passed me. It seemed that what had happened -already was not a sufficient warning to them. I began to walk around -the house that I might keep a watch upon it from every point. -Sleepiness no longer oppressed me. In truth, I forgot all about it. - -I passed to the rear of the building and spoke to the sentinel -stationed in the yard there. He had seen nothing of suspicious nature -so far. I knew he was a faithful, watchful man, and that I could trust -him. I left him and pushed my way between two large flower bushes -growing very close together. Standing there, I beheld the opening of -another window in the house. Again the head of Mistress Kate appeared, -and precisely the same act as before was repeated. She looked about -with the intentness and anxiety of a military engineer studying his -ground. She saw the sentinel as she had seen his fellow before the -house, and her eyes rested long upon him. Her examination finished, she -withdrew, closing the window. - -I set myself to deciphering the meaning of this, and of a sudden it -flashed upon me with such force that I believed myself stupid not to -have seen it before. Kate Van Auken herself was planning to go through -our lines with the news of Burgoyne’s plight. She was a bold girl, not -much afraid of the dark or the woods, and the venture was not beyond -her. The conviction of the truth depressed me. I felt some regard for -Kate Van Auken, whom I as a little boy had liked as a little girl, and -I had slight relish for this task of keeping watch upon her. Even now I -had caught her planning great harm to our cause. - -I confess that I scarce knew what to do. Perhaps it was my duty, if -the matter be considered in its utmost strictness, to arrest both the -women at once as dangerous to our cause, and send them to the army. But -such a course was quite beyond my resolution. I could not do it. Being -unable to decide upon anything else, I continued my watch, determined -that Mistress Kate should not escape from the house. - -The moon withdrew herself and then there was an increase of darkness. -Again I was thankful that I had been vigilant, for I saw a small -door in the rear of the house open. I could not doubt that it opened -to let forth Catherine Van Auken upon her traitorous errand. I made -my resolution upon the instant. If she came out, I would seize her -and compel her to return to the house in all quiet, in order that -Whitestone and the others might not know. - -My suspicions--my fears, in truth I may call them--were justified, for -in a few moments her well-known figure appeared in the doorway all -clothed about in a great dark cloak and hood, like one preparing for a -long night’s journey. I retreated a little, for it was my purpose to -draw her on and then catch her, when no doubt about her errand could -arise. - -She stood in the doorway for perhaps two minutes repeating her actions -at the window; that is, she looked around carefully to note how we were -watching. I could not see her face owing to the increase of darkness -and her attitude, but I had no doubt the same anxiety and eagerness -were writ there. - -Presently she seemed to arrange her dark draperies in a manner more -satisfactory and, stooping somewhat, came out of the house. The -sentinel in this part of the yard was doing his duty and was as -watchful as could be, but he could scarce see this shadow gliding along -in the larger shadow of the rose bushes. I deemed it good fortune -that I was there to see and prevent the flight. I would face her and -confound her with the proof of her guilt. - -She came on quite rapidly, and I shrank a little farther back into the -rose bushes. Her course was directly toward me, and suddenly I rose -up in the path. I expected her to show great surprise and to cry out -after the fashion of women, but she did not. In truth I fancied I saw -a start, but that was all. In a moment she whirled about and fled back -toward the house with as little noise as the shadow she resembled. I -had scarce recovered my presence of mind when she was halfway to the -house, but I pursued in the effort to overtake her and confound her. - -I observed that when she came forth she had shut the door behind her, -but as she fled swiftly back it seemed to open of its own accord for -her entrance. She passed within, disappearing like a ghost, and the -door was shut with a snap almost in my face. I put my hands upon it -and found it was very real and substantial--perhaps a stout two inches -in thickness. - -I deliberated with myself for a moment or two and concluded to do -nothing further in the matter. Perhaps it had turned out as well as -might be, for I had stopped her errand, and her return, doubtless, had -released me from unpleasant necessities. - -I made no effort to force the door or to enter the house otherwise, but -visited the sentinels, telling them to be of good caution, though I -gave them no hint of what had happened. - -I found Whitestone in the valley sitting on a stump and sucking at -his pipe, which contained neither fire nor tobacco. He told me naught -unusual had happened there. I took him back to the house with me, and -together we watched about it until the coming of the day, without -further event of interest. - -Sunrise found my men and me very tired and sleepy, as we had a right -to be, having been on guard near to twenty-four hours, with some very -exciting things occurring in that long space. I awaited the relief -which must come soon, for we were not iron men. - -The sun had scarce swung clear of the earth when a door of the house -was opened and Mistress Kate coming out, a pail in hand, walked lightly -toward the well. I approached her, and she greeted me with an unconcern -that amazed me. - -“I trust that you enjoyed your night watch, Master Shelby?” she said. - -“As well as was likely under the circumstances,” I replied. “I hope -that you slept soundly?” - -“Nothing disturbed us after your invasion of our house,” she said -with fine calmness. “Now, will you help me draw this water? Since the -approach of the armies there is no one left in the house save my mother -and myself, and we must cook and do for ourselves.” - -I helped draw the water, and even carried the filled pail to the house -for her, though she dismissed me at the door. But she atoned partly for -her scant courtesy by bringing us a little later some loaves of white -bread, which she said she had baked with her own hands, and which we -found to be very good. - -We had but finished breakfast when the soldiers who were to relieve us -came, and right glad were we to see them. They were followed a few -minutes later by the colonel in charge, to whom I related the affair -of Captain Martyn, and to whom I showed the order commanding us to -withdraw. He instantly pronounced it a forgery and commended us for -staying. - -“It was a traitorous attempt to get through our line,” he said, “but we -are none the worse off, for it has failed.” - -I said nothing of Kate Van Auken’s share in the conspiracy, but I told -him the women in the house inclined strongly to the Tory side. - -“I will see that the house is watched every moment of the day and -night,” he said. - -Then I felt easy in mind and went off to sleep. - -When I awoke it was about two by the sun, and the afternoon was fine. -I heard that fresh troops had arrived from the Massachusetts and New -Hampshire provinces in the morning, and the trap was closing down on -Burgoyne tighter than ever. Everybody said another great battle was -coming, and coming soon. Even then I heard the pop-pop of distant -skirmishing and saw an occasional red flash on the horizon. - -I was eager to be at the front, but such duty was not for me then. As -soon as I had eaten I was sent back with Sergeant Whitestone and the -same men to keep watch at precisely the same point. - -“Best take it easy,” said the sergeant consolingly. “If the big -battle’s fought while we’re away we can’t get killed in it.” - -Then he lighted the inevitable pipe, smoked, and was content. - -I questioned very closely the men whom we relieved near the house, -and they said there had been nothing to note. The elder woman had -never come out of the house, but the younger had been seen in the yard -several times, though she had naught to say, and seemed to be concerned -not at all about anything. - -I thought it best not to visit the house, and took my station with -Whitestone in the valley, disposing the men in much the same manner as -before. Whitestone puffed at his pipe with the usual regularity and -precision, but some of his taciturnity was gone. He was listening to -the sounds of the skirmishing which came to us fitfully. - -“The bees are stinging,” said he. Then he added, with a fine mixture of -metaphors: “The mouse is trying to feel his way out of the trap. The -big battle can’t be far off, for Burgoyne must know that every day lost -is a chance lost.” - -It seemed to me that he was right, and I regretted more than ever my -assignment to sentinel duty. I do not pretend to uncommon courage, but -every soldier will bear me out that such waiting as we were doing is -more trying than real battle. - -Of a sudden the skirmishing seemed to take on an increase of vigor and -to come nearer. Flashes appeared at various points on the horizon. -Whitestone became deeply interested. He stood at his full height on a -stump, and I would have done likewise had there been another stump. -Presently he leaped down, exclaiming: - -“I fancy there is work for us!” - -I saw at once what he meant. A dozen men were coming down the valley -at full speed. The bright sun even at the distance brought out the -scarlet of their uniforms, and there was no mistaking the side to which -they belonged. Evidently a party of Burgoyne’s skirmishers had slipped -through our main line somehow and were bent upon escape southward, -with all its momentous consequences. - -That escape we would prevent. I sent Whitestone in a run to the two men -near the house to bid them take refuge behind it and fight from its -shelter. He was back in a breath, and he and I and the other soldiers -prepared to hold the passage of the valley. Most fortunate for us, a -rail fence ran across this valley, and we took refuge behind it--a wise -precaution, I think, since the approaching party outnumbered us. - -All of ours, except myself, had rifles, and I carried two good pistols, -with which I am no bad shot. The British came on with much speed. Two -of them were mounted. - -I glanced toward the house. At one of the windows I saw a figure. I -trusted if it was Kate Van Auken that she would withdraw speedily from -such an exposed place. But I had no time to note her presence further, -for just then the British seemed to perceive that we barred the way, -for they stopped as if hesitating. I suppose they saw us, as we were -sheltered but in part by the fence. - -Wishing to spare bloodshed I shouted to them to surrender, but one of -the men on horseback shook his head, said something to the others, and -they dashed toward us at all speed. I recognized this man who appeared -to be their leader. He was Chudleigh, the Englishman, the betrothed of -Kate Van Auken, and, so far as I knew, an honest, presentable fellow. - -Whitestone poised his rifle on the top rail of the fence and I surmised -that it was aimed at Chudleigh. Were the matter not so desperate I -could have wished for a miss. But before Whitestone pulled the trigger -one of the men from the shelter of the house fired, and Chudleigh’s -horse, struck by the ball intended for his master, went down, tossing -Chudleigh some distance upon the ground, where he lay quite still. -Whitestone transferred his aim and knocked the other mounted man off -his horse. - -The remainder, not daunted by the warmth of our greeting and the loss -of their cavalry, raised a cheer and rushed at us, firing their pistols -and muskets. - -I do not scorn a skirmish. It may, and often does, contain more heat to -the square yard than a great battle with twenty thousand men engaged. -These men bore down upon us full of resolution. Their bullets pattered -upon the rails of the fence, chipping off splinters. Some went between -the rails and whizzed by us in fashion most uncomfortable. One man -cried out a bit as the lead took him in the fleshy part of the leg, but -he did not shrink from the onset. - -Meanwhile we were not letting the time pass without profit, but fired -at them with as much rapidity and aim as we could. The two men at the -corner of the house helped us much with fine sharpshooting. - -Our fortification, though but slender, gave us a great advantage, and -nearly a third of their number had fallen before they were within a -dozen feet of the fence. But it was our business not only to defeat -them but to keep any from passing us. I was hopeful of doing this, for -the sound of the firing had reached other portions of the line, and I -saw re-enforcements for us coming on the run. - -Our fire had been so hot that the British when within a dozen feet of -us shrank back. Of a sudden one of them, a very active fellow, swerved -to one side, darted at the fence, and leaping it with a single bound -ran lightly along the hillside. I called to Whitestone and we followed -him at all speed. I was confident that the others would be taken by our -re-enforcements, who were coming up fast, and this man who had passed -our line must be caught at all hazards. - -One of my men at the house fired at the fugitive, but missed. My -pistols were empty, and so was Whitestone’s rifle. It was a matter -which fleetness would decide and we made every effort. - -The fugitive curved toward a wood back of the house, and we followed. -I heard a rifle shot from a new direction, and Whitestone staggered; -but in a moment he recovered himself, saying it was only a flesh wound. -I was amazed, not at the shot but at the point from which it came. I -looked up, and it was no mistake of hearing, for there was the white -puff of smoke rising from an upper window in the house. It was but the -glance of a moment, as the fugitive then claimed my attention. His -speed was slackening and he seemed to be growing very tired. - -A little blood appeared on Whitestone’s arm near the shoulder, but he -gave no other sign that the wound affected him. Our man increased his -speed a bit, but the effort exhausted him; he stopped of a sudden, -dropped to the earth, and lay there panting, strength and breath quite -gone. - -We ran up to him and demanded his surrender. He was too much exhausted -to speak, but he nodded as if he were glad the thing was over. We let -him rest until his breath came back. Then he climbed to his feet, and, -looking at us, said in the fashion of one defending himself: - -“I did the best I could; you can’t say I didn’t.” - -“I guess you did,” I replied. “You went farther than any of your -comrades.” - -He was a most likely young fellow, not more than twenty, I should say, -and I was very glad he had come out of the affair unhurt. We took him -back to the valley, where the conflict was over. Our re-enforcements -had come up so fast that the remainder of the British surrendered after -a few shots. All the prisoners were delivered to one of our captains -who had arrived, and he took them away. Then I turned my attention to -Whitestone. Having some small knowledge of surgery, I asked him to let -me see his arm. He held it out without a word. - -I pushed up his sleeve and found that the bullet had cut only a little -below the skin. I bound up the scratch with a piece of old white cloth, -and said: - -“You needn’t bother about that, Whitestone; the bullet that cut it -wasn’t very well aimed.” - -“It was aimed pretty well, I think, for a woman,” he said. - -“You won’t say any more about that, Whitestone, will you?” I asked -quietly. - -“Not to anybody unless to you,” he replied. - -There was a faint smile on his face that I did not altogether like; but -he thrust his hand into the inside pocket of his waistcoat, took out -his pipe, lighted the tobacco with great deliberation, and began to -smoke as if nothing had happened. - -The prisoners taken away and other signs of conflict removed, we were -left to our old duty, and hill and hollow resumed their quiet. I -was much troubled, but at last I made up my mind what to do. Asking -Whitestone to keep a good watch, I went to the house and knocked with -much loudness at the front door. Kate opened the door, self-possessed -and dignified. - -“Miss Van Auken,” I said with all my dignity, “I congratulate you upon -your progress in the useful art of sharpshooting. You have wounded -Sergeant Whitestone, a most excellent man, and perhaps it was chance -only that saved him from death.” - -“Why should you blame me?” she said. “I wished the man you were -pursuing to escape, and there was no other way to help him. This is -war, you know.” - -I had scarce expected so frank an admission. - -“I will have to search the house for your weapon,” I said. “How do I -know that you will not shoot at me as I go away?” - -“Do not trouble yourself,” she said easily, “I will bring it to you.” - -She ran up the stairway and returned in a moment with a large, unloaded -pistol, which she held out to me. - -“I might have tried to use it again,” she said with a little laugh, -“but I confess I did not know how to reload it.” - -She handed me the pistol with a gesture of repulsion as if she were -glad to get rid of it. Her frankness changed my purpose somewhat, and I -asked her how her mother fared. - -“Very well, but in most dreadful alarm because of the fighting,” she -replied. - -“It would be best for both of you, for your own safety, to remain in -the house and keep the windows closed,” I said. - -“So I think,” she replied. - -I turned away, for I wished to think further what disposition to -make of Kate Van Auken and her mother. It seemed that they should -remain no longer at such a critical point of our line, where in an -unwatched moment they might do us a great evil. Moreover, I was much -inflamed against Kate because of the treacherous shot which had come -so near to ending Whitestone’s career. But even then I sought for some -mitigating circumstance, some excuse for her. Perhaps her family had so -long worked upon her that her own natural and patriotic feelings had -become perverted to such an extent that she looked upon the shot as a -righteous deed. Cases like it were not new. - -I thought it best to take Whitestone into my confidence. - -“We can not do anything to-day,” he said, “for none of us can leave -here; but it would be well to keep a good watch upon that house again -to-night.” - -This advice seemed good, for like as not Kate Van Auken, not at all -daunted by her failure, would make another attempt to escape southward. - -Therefore with much interest I waited the coming of our second night -there, which was but a brief time away. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -OUT OF THE HOUSE. - - -The night came on and I was uneasy. Many things disturbed me. The house -was a sore spot in my mind, and with the dusk the signs of battle -seemed to increase. Upon this dark background the flashes from the -skirmishing grew in size and intensity. From under the horizon’s rim -came the deep murmur of the artillery. I knew that Burgoyne was feeling -his way, and more than ever it was impressed upon me that either he -would break out soon or we would close in upon him and crush him. -The faint pop-pop of the distant rifles was like the crackling that -precedes the conflagration. - -To the south there was peace, apparent peace, but I knew Burgoyne must -turn his face hopefully many a time that way, for if rescue came at all -it must come thence. - -“Another day nearer the shutting of the trap,” said Whitestone, -walking up and down with his arm in a sling. I found that he could -manage his pipe as well with one hand as with two. - -The night was darker than usual, for which I was sorry, as it was -against us and in favor of the others. Again asking Whitestone to stand -sponsor for the hollow, I approached the house. I had repeated my -precautions of the day before, placing one sentinel in front of it and -another behind it. But in the darkness two men could be passed, and I -would watch with them. - -From the hill top the flashes of the skirmishing seemed to multiply, -and for a few moments I forgot the house that I might watch them. Even -I, who had no part in the councils of my generals and elders, knew how -much all this meant to us, and the intense anxiety with which every -patriot heart awaited the result. More than ever I regretted my present -duty. - -The house was dark, but I felt sure in my heart that Kate would make -another attempt to escape us. Why should she wait? - -I thought it my best plan to walk in an endless circle around the -house; it would keep sleep away and give me the greater chance to see -anything that might happen. It was but dull and tiresome work at the -best. Around and around I walked, stopping once in a while to speak to -my sentinels. Time was so slow that it seemed to me the night ought to -have passed, when the size of the moon showed that it was not twelve. - -I expected Kate to look from the windows again and spy out the ground -before making the venture; so I kept faithful watch upon them, but -found no reward for such vigilance and attention. Her face did not -appear; no light sparkled from the house. Perhaps after her failures -her courage had sunk. Certainly the time for her venture, if venture -she would make, was passing. - -As I continued my perpetual circle I approached the beat of the -sentinel who was stationed behind the house. I saw him sooner than I -expected; he had come farther toward the side of the house than his -orders permitted him to do, and I was preparing to rebuke him when I -noticed of a sudden that he seemed to be without his rifle. The next -moment his figure disappeared from me like the shadow of something that -had never been. - -Twenty yards away I saw the sentinel, upright, stiff, rifle on -shoulder, no thought but of his duty. I knew the first figure was -that of Kate Van Auken, and not of the sentinel. How she had escaped -from the house unseen I did not know and it was no time to stop for -inquiry. I stepped among the trees, marking as closely as I could that -particular blotch of blackness into which she had disappeared, and I -had reward, for again I saw her figure, more like shadow than substance. - -I might have shouted to the sentinels and raised hue and cry, but I -had reasons--very good, it seemed to me--for not doing so. Moreover, I -needed no assistance. Surely I could hold myself sufficient to capture -one girl. She knew the grounds well, but I also knew them. I had played -over them often enough. - -The belt of woods began about fifty yards back of the house, and was -perhaps the same number of yards in breadth. But the trees seemed not -to hinder her speed. She curved lightly among them with the readiness -of perfect acquaintance, and I was sure that the elation coming from -what she believed to be escape was quickening her flight. - -She passed through the trees and into the stretch of open ground -beyond. Then for the first time she looked back and saw me. At least I -believe she saw me, for she seemed to start, and her cloak fluttered as -she began to run with great speed. - -A hundred yards farther was a rail fence, and beyond that a stretch of -corn land. With half a leap and half a climb, very remarkable in woman, -who is usually not expert in such matters, she scaled this fence in a -breath and was among the cornstalks. I feared that she might elude me -there, but I, too, was over the fence in a trice and kept her figure in -view. She had shown much more endurance than I expected, though I knew -she was a strong girl. But we had come a good half mile, and few women -can run at speed so far. - -She led me a chase through the cornfield and then over another fence -into a pasture. I noted with pleasure that I was gaining all the time. -In truth, I had enjoyed so much exercise of this kind in the last day -that I ought to have been in a fair way of becoming an expert. - -Our course lengthened to a mile and I was within fifteen yards of her. -Despite my general disrelish for the position I felt a certain grim -joy in being the man to stop her plans, inasmuch as she had deceived me -more perhaps than any one else. - -It was evident that I could overtake her, and I hailed her, demanding -that she stop. For reply she whirled about and fired a pistol at me, -and then, seeing that she had missed, made an effort to run faster. - -I was astounded. I confess it even after all that had happened--but -she had fired at Whitestone before; now she was firing at me. I would -stop this fierce woman, not alone for the good of our cause, but for -the revenge her disappointment would be to me. The feeling gave me -strength, and in five minutes more I could almost reach out my hands -and touch her. - -“Stop!” I shouted in anger. - -She whirled about again and struck at me, full strength, with the butt -of her pistol. I might have suffered a severe, perhaps a stunning, -blow, but by instinct I threw up my right hand, and her wrist gliding -off it the pistol struck nothing, dashing with its own force from her -hand. I warded off another swift blow aimed with the left fist, and -then saw that I stood face to face not with Kate Van Auken but with -her brother Albert. - -There was a look upon his face of mingled shame and determination. How -could he escape shame with his sister’s skirts around him and her hood -upon his head? - -My own feelings were somewhat mixed in character. First, there was a -sensation of great relief, so quick I had not time to make analysis, -and then there came over me a strong desire to laugh. I submit that the -sight of a man caught in woman’s dress and ashamed of it is fair cause -for mirth. - -It was dark, but not too dark for me to see his face redden at my look. - -“You’ll have to fight it out with me,” he said, very stiff and haughty. - -“I purpose to do it,” I said, “but perhaps your clothes may be in your -way.” - -He snatched the hood off his head and hurled it into the bushes; then -with another angry pull he ripped the skirt off, and, casting it to one -side stood forth in proper man’s attire, though that of a citizen and -not of the British soldier that he was. - -He confronted me, very angry. I did not think of much at that moment -save how wonderfully his face was like his sister Kate’s. I had never -taken such thorough note of it before, though often the opportunity was -mine. - -Our pause had given him breath, and he stood awaiting my attack like -one who fights with his fists in the ring. My loaded pistol was in my -belt, but he did not seem to think that I would use it; nor did I think -of it myself. His, unloaded, lay on the ground. I advanced upon him, -and with his right fist he struck very swiftly at my face. I thrust my -head to one side and the blow glanced off the hard part of it, leaving -his own face unprotected. I could have dealt him a heavy return blow -that would have made his face look less like his sister Kate’s, but I -preferred to close with him and seize him in my grasp. - -Though lighter than I he was agile, and sought to trip me, or by some -dexterous turn otherwise to gain advantage of me. But I was wary, -knowing full well that I ought to be so, and presently I brought him -down in a heap, falling upon him with such force that he lay a few -moments as if stunned, though it was but the breath knocked out of him. - -“Do you give up?” I asked, when he had returned to speaking condition. - -“Yes,” he replied. “You were always too strong for me, Dick.” - -Which was true, for there never was a time, even when we were little -boys, when I could not throw him, though I do not say it as a boast, -since there were others who could throw me. - -“Do you make complete and unconditional surrender to me as the sole -present representative of the American army, and promise to make no -further effort to escape?” asked I, somewhat amazed at the length of my -own words, and a little proud of them too. - -“Yes, Dick, confound it! Get off my chest! How do you expect me to -breathe?” he replied with a somewhat unreasonable show of temper. - -I dismounted and he sat up, thumping his chest and drawing very long -breaths as if he wished to be sure that everything was right inside. -When he had finished his examination, which seemed to be satisfactory, -he said: - -“I’m your prisoner, Dick. What do you intend to do with me?” - -“Blessed if I know,” I replied. - -In truth, I did not. He was in citizens’ clothes, and he had been -lurking inside our lines for at least a day or so. If I gave him up to -our army, as my duty bade me to do, he might be shot, which would be -unpleasant to me as well as to him for various reasons. If I let him go -he might ruin us. - -“Suppose you think it over while I rest,” he said. “A man can’t run a -mile and then fight a big fellow like you without getting pretty tired.” - -In a few minutes I made up my mind. It was not a way out of the matter, -but it was the only thing I could think of for the present. - -“Get up, Albert,” I said. - -He rose obediently. - -“You came out of that house unseen,” I resumed, “and I want you to go -back into it unseen. Do exactly as I say. I’m thinking of you as well -as of myself.” - -He seemed to appreciate the consideration and followed close behind me -as I took my way toward the house. I had no fear that he would attempt -escape. Albert was always a fellow of honor, though I could never -account for the perversion of his political opinions. - -He walked back slowly. I kept as good a lookout as I could in the -darkness. It was barely possible that I would meet Whitestone prowling -about, and that was not what I wanted. - -“Albert,” I asked, “why did you shoot at Whitestone from the house? I -can forgive your shooting at me, for that was in fair and open strife.” - -“Dick,” he said so earnestly that I could not but believe him, “to tell -you the truth, I feel some remorse about the shot, but the man you were -pursuing was Trevannion of ours, my messmate, and such a fine fellow -that I knew only one other whom I’d rather see get through with the -news of our plight, and that’s myself. I couldn’t resist trying to help -him. Suppose we say no more about it; let it pass.” - -“It’s Whitestone’s affair, not mine,” I said. I was not making any -plans to tell Whitestone about it. - -When we came to the edge of the wood behind the house I told him to -stop. Going forward, I sent the sentinel to the other side of the -building, telling him to watch there with his comrade for a little, -while I took his place. As soon as his figure disappeared behind the -corner of the house Albert came forward and we hurried to the side -door. We knocked lightly upon it and it was promptly opened by his -sister. I could guess the anxiety and dread with which she was waiting -lest she should hear sounds which would tell of an interrupted flight, -and the distress with which she would see us again. Nor was I deceived. -When she beheld us standing there in the dark, her lips moved as if she -could scarce repress the cry that rose. - -I spoke first. - -“Take him back in the house,” I said, “and keep him there until you -hear from me. Hurry up, Albert!” - -Albert stepped in. - -“And don’t forget this,” I continued, for I could not wholly forgive -him, “if you shoot at me or Whitestone or anybody else, I’ll see you -hanged as a spy, if I have to do it myself.” - -They quickly closed the door, and recalling the sentinel, I went in -search of Whitestone. - -I had some notion of confiding in Whitestone, but, after thought, I -concluded I had best not, at least not fully. - -I found him walking up and down in the valley. - -“Whitestone,” I said, “do me a favor? if anybody asks you how you got -that scratch on your arm, tell him it was in the skirmish, and you -don’t know who fired the shot.” - -He considered a moment. - -“I’ll do it,” he said, “if you’ll agree to do as much for me, first -chance.” - -I promised, and, that matter off my mind, tried to think of a plan to -get Albert out of the house and back to his own army unseen by any of -ours. Thinking thus, the night passed away. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -MY SUPERIOR OFFICER. - - -The relief came early in the morning, bringing with it the news that -our army, which was stronger every day than on the yesterday, had moved -still closer to Burgoyne. My blood thrilled as ever at this, but I had -chosen a new course of action for myself. It would be an evil turn for -me if Albert Van Auken were taken at the house and should run the risk -of execution as a spy; it might be said that I was the chief cause of -it. - -I was very tired, and stretching myself on the turf beneath the shade -of a tree in the valley, I fell into a sound sleep in two minutes. When -I awoke at the usual time I found that the guard had been re-enforced, -and, what was worse, instead of being first in command I was now only -second. This in itself was disagreeable, but the character of the man -who had supplanted me was a further annoyance. I knew Lieutenant -Belt quite well, a New Englander much attached to our cause, but of a -prying disposition and most suspicious. The re-enforcements had been -sent because of the previous attempt to break through the line at this -point, the lay of the ground being such that it was more favorable for -plans of escape than elsewhere. - -“You need not stay unless you wish,” said Belt. “No positive -instructions were given on that point. As for myself, I confess I would -rather be with the army, since much is likely to happen there soon.” - -“I think things will drag for some time yet,” I said with as careless -an air as I could assume, “and I suspect that they have been more -active here than they are with the army. Another attempt to break -through our line may be made at this point, and I believe I’d rather -remain for a day or two.” - -But just then, as if for the sole purpose of belying my words about -dullness at the front, there was a sharp crackle of distant skirmishing -and the red flare of a cannon appeared on the horizon. It called the -attention of both of us for a moment or two. - -“The bullets appear to be flying over there, but if you prefer to -remain here, of course you can have your wish,” said Belt with sarcasm. - -I did not answer, as no good excuse happened to my mind, and we -went up the hillside together. I looked about carefully to see what -arrangements he had made, but it was merely a doubling of the guard. -Otherwise he had followed my dispositions. Belt looked at the house. - -“I hear that some people are there. Who are they?” he asked. - -“Only two,” I replied, “women both--Madame Van Auken and her daughter.” - -“For us, or against us?” he asked. - -“Against us,” I replied. “The son and brother is in the English army -with Burgoyne, over there; moreover, the daughter is betrothed to an -Englishman who has just been taken prisoner by us.” - -I thought it best to make no disguise of these matters. - -“That looks suspicious,” he said, his hawk face brightening at the -thought of hidden things to be found. - -“They might do us harm if they could,” I said, “but they have not the -power. Our lines surround the house; no one save ourselves can go to -them, nor can they go to any one.” - -“Still, I would like to go through the house,” he said, some doubt yet -showing in his tone. - -“I have searched it twice and found nothing,” I said indifferently. - -He let the matter drop for the time and busied himself with an -examination of the ground; but I knew he was most likely to take it up -again, for he could not suppress his prying nature. I would have been -glad to give warning to Kate, but I could think of no way to do it. - -“Who is the best man that you have here?” he asked presently. - -“Whitestone--Sergeant Whitestone,” I replied, glad to place the -sergeant in his confidence, for it might turn out to my advantage. -“There is none more vigilant, and you can depend upon all that he says.” - -We separated there, our work taking us in different directions. When -we returned to the valley, which we had made a kind of headquarters, I -heard him asking Whitestone about the Van Aukens. - -“Tartars, both of ’em,” said the good sergeant; “if you go in there, -leftenant, they’ll scold you till they take your face off.” - -The look on Belt’s face was proof that not even Whitestone’s warning -would deter him. At least it so seemed to me. In a half hour I -found that I had judged aright. He told me he was not in a state of -satisfaction about the house, and since the responsibility for it lay -with him he proposed to make a search of it in person. He requested me -to go with him. - -“This seems to be the main entrance,” he said, leading the way to the -portico, which faced the north, and looking about with very inquiring -eyes. “Madame Van Auken and her daughter must be much frightened by the -presence of troops, for I have not yet seen the face of either at door -or window.” - -He knocked loudly at the door with the hilt of his sword, and Kate -appeared, very calm as usual. I made the introductions as politely as I -was able. - -“Lieutenant Belt is my senior, Miss Van Auken,” I said, “and therefore -has superseded me in command of the guard at this point.” - -“Then I trust that Lieutenant Belt will relax some of the rigors of -the watch,” she said, “and not subject us to the great discomfort of -repeated searches of our house.” - -She turned her shoulder to me as if she would treat me with the -greatest coldness. I understood her procedure, and marveled much at her -presence of mind. It seemed to be successful too, for Belt smiled, and -looked ironically at me, like one who rejoices in the mishap of his -comrade. - -She took us into the house, talking with much courtesy to Belt, and -ignoring me in a manner that I did not altogether like, even with the -knowledge that it was but assumption. She led us into the presence of -madame, her mother, who looked much worn with care, though preserving -a haughty demeanor. As usual, she complained that our visits were -discourtesies, and Belt apologized in his best manner. Glad that the -brunt did not now fall upon me, I deemed it best to keep silence, which -I did in most complete manner. - -Madame invited us to search the house as we pleased, and we took her at -her word, finding nothing. I was much relieved thereat. I had feared -that Albert, knowing I would not make another search so long as I was -in command, would not be in proper concealment. With my relief was -mingled a certain perplexity that his place of hiding should evade me. - -Belt was a gentleman despite his curiosity, which I believe the New -England people can not help, and for which, therefore, they are not -to be blamed, and when he had finished the vain quest he apologized -again to Madame Van Auken and her daughter for troubling them. He was -impressed by the fine looks of the daughter, and he made one or two -gallant speeches to her which she received very well, as I notice women -mostly do whatever may be the circumstances. I felt some anger toward -Belt, though there seemed to be no cause for it. When we left the house -he said: - -“Miss Van Auken doesn’t look so dangerous, yet you say she is a red-hot -Tory.” - -“I merely included her in a generality,” I replied. “The others of the -family are strong Tories, but Miss Van Auken, I have reason to think, -inclines to our cause.” - -“That is good,” he said, though he gave no reason why it should seem -good to him. After that he turned his attention to his main duty, -examining here and there and displaying the most extreme vigilance. The -night found him still prowling about. - -Directly after nightfall the weather turned very cool in that -unaccountable way it sometimes has in the late summer or early autumn, -and began to rain. - -It was a most cold and discouraging rain that hunted every hole in our -worn uniforms, and displayed a peculiar knack of slipping down our -collars. I found myself seeking the shelter of trees, and as the cold -bit into the marrow my spirits drooped until I felt like an old man. -Even the distant skirmishers were depressed by the rainy night, for the -shots ceased and the hills and the valleys were as silent and lonely as -ever they were before the white man came. - -I was thinking it was a very long and most dismal night before us, -when I heard a chattering of teeth near me, and turning about saw Belt -in pitiable condition. He was all drawn with the cold damp, and his -face looked as shriveled as if it were seventy instead of twenty-five. -Moreover, he was shaking in a chill. I had noticed before that the man -did not look robust. - -“This is a little hard on me, Shelby,” he said, his tone asking -sympathy. “I have but lately come from a sick-bed, and I fear greatly -this rain will throw me into a fever.” - -He looked very longingly at the house. - -I fear there was some malice in me then, for he had put aspersions upon -my courage earlier in the day, which perhaps he had a right to do, not -knowing my secret motives. - -“The weather is a trifle bad, one must admit, lieutenant,” I said, “but -you and I will not mind it; moreover, the darkness of the night demands -greater vigilance on our part.” - -He said nothing, merely rattled his teeth together and walked on with -what I admit was a brave show for a man shaking in a bad chill. As his -assistant I could go and come pretty much as I chose, and I kept him in -view, bent on seeing what he would do. - -He endured the chill most handsomely for quite a time, but the wet and -the cold lent aggravation to it, and presently he turned to me, his -teeth clicking together in most formidable fashion. - -“I fear, Shelby, that I must seek shelter in the house,” he said. “I -would stick to the watch out here, but this confounded chill has me in -its grip and will not let go. But, as you have done good work here and -I would not seem selfish, you shall go in with me.” - -I understood his motive, which was to provide that in case he should -incur censure for going into the house, I could share it and divide it -with him. It was no very admirable action on Belt’s part, but I minded -it not; in truth I rather liked it, for since he was to be in the -house, I preferred to be there too, and at the same time, and not for -matters concerning my health. I decided quickly that I must seem his -friend and give him sympathy; in truth I was not his enemy at all; I -merely found him inconvenient. - -We went again to the front door and knocked many times before any -answer came to us. Then two heads--the one of Mistress Kate, the -other of her mother--were thrust out of an upper window and the usual -question was propounded to us. - -“Lieutenant Belt is very ill,” I said, taking the word from his lips, -“and needs must have shelter from the cruelty of the night. We would -not trouble you were not the case extreme.” - -I could see that Belt was grateful for the way I had put the matter. -Presently they opened the door, both appearing there for the sake of -company at that hour, I suppose. Belt tried to preserve an appearance -in the presence of the ladies, but he was too sick. He trembled with -his chill like a sapling in a high wind, and I said: - -“Lieutenant Belt’s condition speaks for itself; nothing else could have -induced us to intrude upon you at such an untimely hour.” - -I fancy I said that well, and both Madame Van Auken and her daughter -showed pity for Belt; yet the elder could not wholly repress a display -of feeling against us. - -“We can not turn any one ill, not even an enemy, away from our door,” -she said, “but I fear the rebel armies have left us little for the uses -of hospitality.” - -She said this in the stiff and rather precise way that our fathers and -mothers affected, but she motioned for us to come in, and we obeyed -her. I confess I was rather glad to enter the dry room, for my clothes -were flapping wet about me. - -“Perhaps the lieutenant would like to lie down,” said Madame Van -Auken, pointing to a large and comfortable sofa in the corner of the -room that we had entered. - -But Belt was too proud to do that, though it was needful to him. He sat -down merely and continued to shiver. Mistress Kate came presently with -a large draught of hot whisky and water which smelled most savorously. -She insisted that Belt drink it, and he swallowed it all, leaving none -for me. Madame Van Auken placed a lighted candle upon a little table, -and then both the ladies withdrew. - -Belt said he felt better, but he had a most wretched appearance. I -insisted that he let me feel his pulse, and I found he was bordering -upon a high fever, and most likely, if precautions were not taken, -would soon be out of his senses. The wet clothes were the chief -trouble, and I said they must come off. Belt demurred for a while, but -he consented at last when I told him persistent refusal might mean his -death. - -I roused up the ladies again, explaining the cause of this renewed -interruption, and secured from them their sympathy and a large -bedquilt. I made Belt take off his uniform, and then I spread the quilt -over him as he lay on the sofa, telling him to go to sleep. He said he -had no such intention; but a second hot draught of whisky which Kate -brought to the door gave him the inclination, if not the intention. But -he fought against it, and his will was aided by the sudden revival of -sounds which betokened that the skirmishing had begun again. Through -the window I heard the faint patter of rifles, but the shots were too -distant, or the night too dark to disclose the flash. This sudden -spurt of warlike activity told me once again that the great crisis was -approaching fast, and I hoped most earnestly that events at the Van -Auken house would culminate first. - -Belt was still struggling against weakness and sleep, and he complained -fretfully when he heard the rifle shots, bemoaning his fate to be -seized by a wretched, miserable chill at such a time. - -“Perhaps after all the battle may be fought without me,” said he with -unintended humor. - -I assured him that he would be all right in the morning. His resistance -to sleep, I told him, was his own injury, for it was needful to his -health. He took me at my word and let his eyelids droop. I foresaw that -he would be asleep very soon, but he roused up a bit presently and -showed anxiety about the guard. He wanted to be sure that everything -was done right, and asked me to go out and see Whitestone, whom we had -left in charge when we entered the house. - -I was averse in no particular and slipped quietly out into the -darkness. I found Whitestone in the valley. - -“All quiet,” he reported. “I’ve just come from a round of the sentinels -and there’s nothing suspicious. I’m going back myself presently to -watch in front of the house.” - -I knew Whitestone would ask no questions, so I told him the lieutenant -was still very ill and I would return to him; I did not know how long -I would stay in the house, I said. Whitestone, like the good, silent -fellow he was, made no reply. - -I returned to the front door. I was now learning the way into the house -very well. I had traveled it often enough. I stood for a moment in -the little portico, which was as clean and white as if washed by the -sea. The rain had nearly ceased to fall, and the blaze of the distant -skirmishing suddenly flared up on the dark horizon like a forest fire. -I wondered not that the two women in the house should be moved by all -this; I wondered rather at their courage. In the yard stood Whitestone, -his figure rising up as stiff and straight as a post. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -BELT’S GHOST. - - -I found Belt fast asleep. The two draughts of whisky, heavy and hot, -had been a blanket to his senses, and he had gone off for a while to -another world to think and to struggle still, for he muttered and -squirmed in his restless slumber. His hand when I touched it was yet -hot with fever. He might, most likely would, be better when he awoke in -the morning, but he would be flat aback the remainder of the night. He -could conduct no further search in that house before the next day. - -I was uncertain what to do, whether to remain there with Belt or go out -and help Whitestone with the watch. Duty to our cause said the latter, -but in truth other voices are sometimes as loud as that of duty. I -listened to one of the other. - -I drew a chair near to Belt’s couch and sat down. He was still -muttering in his hot, sweaty sleep like one with anger at things, and -now and then threw out his long thin legs and arms. He looked like a -man tied down trying to escape. - -The candle still burned on the table, but its light was feeble at best. -Shadows filled the corners of the room. I like sick-bed watches but -little, and least of all such as that. They make me feel as if I had -lost my place in a healthy world. To such purpose was I thinking when -Belt sat up with a suddenness that made me start, and cried in a voice -cracked with fever: - -“Shelby, are you there?” - -“Yes, I’m here,” I replied with a cheeriness that I did not feel. “Lie -down and go to sleep, lieutenant, or you’ll be a week getting well.” - -“I can’t go to sleep, and I haven’t been to sleep,” he said, raising -his voice, which had a whistling note of illness in it. - -His eyes sparkled, and I could see that the machinery of his head was -working badly. I took him by the shoulders with intent to force him -down upon the couch; but he threw me off with sudden energy that took -me by surprise. - -“Let me go,” he said, “till I say what I want to say.” - -“Well, what is it?” I asked, thinking to pacify him. - -“Shelby,” said he, belief showing all over his face, “I’ve seen a -ghost!” - -A strong desire to laugh was upon me, but I did not let it best me, for -I had respect for Belt, who was my superior officer. I don’t believe in -ghosts; they never come to see me. - -“You’re sick, and you’ve been dreaming, lieutenant,” I said. “Go to -sleep.” - -“I’ll try to go to sleep,” he replied, “but what I say is truth, and -I’ve seen a ghost.” - -“What did it look like?” I asked, remembering that it is best to fall -in with the humor of mad people. - -“Like a woman,” he replied, “and that’s all I can say on that point, -for this cursed fever has drawn a veil over my eyes. I had shut them, -trying to go to sleep, but something kept pulling my eyelids apart, and -open they came again; there was the ghost, the ghost of a woman; it had -come through the wall, I suppose. It floated all around the room as -if it were looking for something, but not making a breath of a noise, -like a white cloud sailing through the air. I tell you, Shelby, I was -in fear, for I had never believed in such things, and I had laughed at -them.” - -“What became of the ghost?” I asked. - -“It went away just like it came, through the wall, I guess,” said Belt. -“All I know is that I saw it, and then I didn’t. And I want you to stay -with me, Shelby; don’t leave me!” - -This time I laughed, and on purpose. I wanted to chirk Belt up a bit, -and I thought I could do it by ridiculing such a fever dream. But I -could not shake the conviction in him. Instead, his temper took heat -at my lack of faith. Then I affected to believe, which soothed him, -and exhaustion falling upon him I saw that either he would slumber -again or weakness would steal his senses. I thought to ease his mind, -and told him everything outside was going well; that Whitestone was -the best sentinel in the world, and not even a lizard could creep past -him though the night might be black as coal. Whereat he smiled, and -presently turning over on his side began to mutter, by which I knew -that a hot sleep was again laying hold of him. - -After the rain it had turned very warm again, and I opened the window -for unbreathed air. Belt’s request that I stay with him, given in a -sort of delirium though it was, made good excuse for my remaining. If -ever he said anything about it I could allege his own words. - -The candle burned down more on one side than on the other and its blaze -leaned over like a man sick. It served but to distort. - -I looked at Belt and wondered why the mind too should grow weak, as -it most often does when disease lays hold of the body. In his healthy -senses, Belt--who, like most New Englanders, believed only what he -saw--would have jeered at the claims of a ghost. There was little -credulity in that lank, bony frame. - -But I stopped short in such thoughts, for I noticed that which made my -blood quicken in surprise. Belt’s uniform was gone. I rose and looked -behind the couch, thinking the lieutenant in his uneasy squirmings -might have knocked it over there. But he had not done so; nor was it -elsewhere in the room. It had gone clean away--perhaps through the -wall, like Belt’s ghost. I wondered what Whitestone’s emotions would -be if a somewhat soiled and worn Continental uniform, with no flesh and -bones in it, should come walking down his beat. - -I understood that it was a time for me to think my best, and I set -about it. I leaned back in my chair and stared at the wall in the -manner of those who do strenuous thinking. I shifted my gaze but once, -and then to put it upon Belt, who I concluded would not come back to -earth for a long time. - -At the end of ten minutes I rose from my chair and went out into the -hall, leaving the candle still burning on the table. Perhaps I, too, -might find a ghost. I did not mean to lose the opportunity which might -never seek me again. - -The hall ran the full width of the house and was broad. There was a -window at the end, but the light was so faint I could scarce see, and -in the corners and near the walls so much dusk was gathered that the -eye was of no use there. Yet, by much stealing about and reaching here -and there with my hands, I convinced myself that no ghost lurked in -that hall. But there was a stairway leading into an upper hall, and, -as silent as a ghost myself, for which I take pride, I stole up the -steps. - -Just before I reached the top step I heard a faint shuffling noise like -that which a heavy and awkward ghost with poor use of himself would -most likely make. Nay, I have heard that ghosts never make noise, but I -see no reason why they shouldn’t, at least a little. - -I crouched down in the shadow of the top step and the banisters. The -faint shuffling noise came nearer, and Belt’s lost uniform, upright and -in its proper shape, drifted past me and down the steps. I followed -lightly. I was not afraid. I have never heard, at least not with the -proper authenticity, that ghosts strike one, or do other deeds of -violence; so I followed, secure in my courage. The brass buttons on the -uniform gleamed a little, and I kept them in clear view. Down the steps -went the figure, and then it sped along the hall, with me after it. It -reached the front door, opened it half a foot and stood there. That was -my opportunity to hold discussion with a ghost, and I did not neglect -it. Forward I slipped and tapped with my fingers an arm of the uniform, -which inclosed not empty air but flesh and blood. Startled, the figure -faced about and saw my features, for a little light came in at the door. - -“I offer congratulations on your speedy recovery from fever, Lieutenant -Belt,” I said, in a subdued tone. - -“It was quick, it is true,” he replied, “but I need something more.” - -“What is that?” I asked. - -“Fresh air,” he replied. “I think I will go outside.” - -“I will go with you,” I said. “Fevers are uncertain, and one can not -tell what may happen.” - -He hesitated as if he would make demur, but I said: - -“It is necessary to both of us.” - -He hesitated no longer, but opened the door wider and stepped out into -the portico. I looked with much anxiety to see what sort of watch -was kept, and no doubt my companion did the same. It was good. Three -sentinels were in sight. Directly in front of us, and about thirty feet -away, was Whitestone. The skirmishers and their rifles had not yet gone -to sleep, for twice while we stood on the portico we saw the flash of -powder on the distant hills. - -“Lieutenant, I think we had best walk in the direction of the firing -and make a little investigation,” I said. - -“The idea is good,” he replied. “We will do it.” - -We walked down the steps and into the yard. I was slightly in advance, -leading the way. We passed within a dozen feet of Whitestone, who -saluted. - -“Sergeant,” said I, “Lieutenant Belt, who feels much better, and -I, wish to inquire further into the skirmishing. There may be some -significance for us in it. We will return presently.” - -Whitestone saluted again and said nothing. Once more I wish to commend -Whitestone as a jewel. He did not turn to look at us when we passed -him, but stalked up and down as if he were a wooden figure moving on -hinges. - -We walked northward, neither speaking. Some three or four hundred yards -from the house both of us stopped. Then I put my hand upon his arm -again. - -“Albert,” I said, “your fortune is far better than you deserve, or ever -will deserve.” - -“I don’t know about that,” he replied. - -“I do,” I said. “Now, beyond those hills are the camp-fires of -Burgoyne. You came thus far easily enough in your effort to get out, -though Martyn, who came with you, failed, and you can go back the same -way; but, before you start, take off Belt’s uniform. I won’t have you -masquerading as an American officer.” - -Without a word he took off the Continental uniform and stood in the -citizen’s suit in which I had first seen him, Belt being a larger man -than he. I rolled them up in a bundle and put the bundle under my arm. - -“Shake hands,” he said. “You’ve done me a good turn.” - -“Several of them,” I said, as I shook his hand, “which is several more -than you have done for me.” - -“I don’t bear you any grudge on that account,” he said with a faint -laugh, as he strode off in the darkness toward Burgoyne’s army. - -Which, I take it, was handsome of him. - -I watched him as long as I could. You may not be able sometimes to -look in the darkness and find a figure, but when that figure departs -from your side and you never take your eyes off it, you can follow it -for a long way through the night. Thus I could watch Albert a hundred -yards or more, and I saw that he veered in no wise from the course I -had assigned to him, and kept his face turned to the army of Burgoyne. -But I had not doubted that he would keep his word and would not seek to -escape southward; nor did I doubt that he would reach his comrades in -safety. - -I turned away, very glad that he was gone. Friends cause much trouble -sometimes, but girls’ brothers cause more. - -I took my thoughts away from him and turned them to the business -of going back into the house with the wad of uniform under my arm, -which was very simple if things turned out all right. I believed -that Whitestone would be on guard at the same place, which was what -I wanted. I knew Whitestone would be the most vigilant of all the -sentinels, but I was accustomed to him. One prefers to do business with -a man one knows. - -I sauntered back slowly, now and then turning about on my heels as if I -would spy out the landscape, which in truth was pretty well hid by the -thickness of the night. - -As I approached the yard my heart gave a thump like a hammer on the -anvil; but there was Whitestone on the same beat, and my heart thumped -again, but with more consideration than before. - -I entered the yard, and Whitestone saluted with dignity. - -“Sergeant,” said I, “Lieutenant Belt is looking about on the other side -of the house. He fears that his fever is coming on him again, and he -will re-enter the house, but by the back door. I am to meet him there.” - -Sergeant Whitestone saluted again. I said naught of the bundle in the -crook of my arm, which he could plainly see. - -“Sergeant,” said I, “what do you think of a man who tells all he knows?” - -“Very little, sir,” he replied. - -“So do I,” I said; “but be that as it may, you know that you and I are -devoted to the patriot cause.” - -“Aye, truly, sir!” he said. - -We saluted each other again with great respect, and I passed into the -house. - -Belt was still asleep upon the sofa and his fever was going down, -though he talked now and then of the things that were on his brain when -awake. The candle was dying, the tallow sputtering as the blaze reached -the last of it, and without another the thickness of the night would be -upon us. - -I ascended the stairway into the upper hall again, but this time -with no attempt to rival a ghost in smoothness of motion. Instead, I -stumbled about like a man in whose head hot punch has set everything -to dancing. Presently Mistress Kate, bearing a candle in her hand and -dressed as if for the day--at which I was not surprised--appeared from -the side door. - -I begged her for another candle, if the supply in the house were not -exhausted, and stepping back she returned in a moment with what I -desired; then in a tone of much sympathy she inquired as to the state -of Lieutenant Belt’s health. I said he was sleeping peacefully, and -suggested that she come and look at him, as she might have sufficient -knowledge of medicine to assist me in the case. To which she consented, -though ever one of the most modest of maidens. - -I held the candle near Belt’s face, but in such position that the light -would not shine into his eyes and awaken him. - -“But the lieutenant would rather be on his feet again and in these -garments,” I said, turning the light upon Belt’s uniform, which I had -carefully spread out again on the foot of the couch. Then I added: - -“The wearer of that uniform has had many adventures, doubtless, but he -has not come to any harm yet.” - -I might have talked further, but I knew that naught more was needed for -Kate Van Auken. - -Moreover, no words could ever be cited against me. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -IN BURGOYNE’S CAMP. - - -Belt awoke the next morning in fairly good health, but very sour of -temper. Like some other people whom I know, he seemed to hold everybody -he met personally responsible for his own misfortunes, which I take it -is most disagreeable for all concerned. He spoke to me in most churlish -manner, though I am fair to say I replied in similar fashion, which -for some reason seemed to cause him discontent. Then he went out and -quarreled with Whitestone and the others, who had been doing their duty -in complete fashion. - -But a few minutes after he had gone out, Madame Van Auken, who was a -lady in the highest degree, though a Tory one, came to me and said -she and her daughter had prepared breakfast; scanty, it is true, for -the rebels had passed that way too often, but it would most likely -be better than army fare, and would be good for invalids; would I be -so kind as to ask Lieutenant Belt to come in and share it with them, -and would I do them the further kindness to present myself at the -breakfast also? I would be delighted, and I said so, also hurrying -forth to find Belt, to whom I gave the invitation. He accepted in tone -somewhat ungracious, I thought, but improved in manner when he entered -the presence of the ladies; for, after all, Belt was a gentleman, and I -will admit that he had been unfortunate. As we went in to the breakfast -table I said to Belt: - -“You’ve come out of that chill and fever very well, lieutenant. You -look a little weak, but all right otherwise.” - -“You seem to have had your own worries,” he replied a bit slowly, “for -something has been painting night under your eyes.” - -Well, it was natural; it had been an anxious time for me in truth. But -I suggested it was due to long night watches. - -The ladies, as they had said, had not a great deal to offer, but it was -well prepared by their own hands. They had some very fine coffee, to -which I am ever partial, especially in the mornings, and we made most -excellent progress with the breakfast, even Belt waxing amiable. But -about the middle of the breakfast he asked quite suddenly of us all: - -“Do you believe in ghosts?” - -I was a bit startled, I will admit, but I rejoice to think that I did -not show it. Instead, I looked directly at Mistress Kate, who in truth -looked very handsome and light-hearted that morning, and asked: - -“Do you believe in ghosts?” - -“Of a certainty--of a certainty,” she said with emphasis. - -“So do I,” said I with equal emphasis. - -Madame Van Auken drank her coffee. - -“I don’t,” said Belt. “I thought I did for a while last night. I even -thought I saw one while Shelby was away from me for a while.” - -I rallied Belt, and explained to the ladies that the fever had given -him an illusion the night before. They joined me in the raillery, and -trusted that the gallant lieutenant would not see double when he met -his enemies. Belt took it very well, better than I had thought. But -after the breakfast, when we had withdrawn again, he said to me with a -sour look: - -“I do not trust those ladies, Shelby.” - -“Well, as for that,” I replied, “I told you that Madame Van Auken was a -hot Tory, of which fact she seeks to make no concealment. But I don’t -see what harm they could do us, however much they might wish it.” - -“Maybe,” he said; then with a sudden change: - -“Why did you say this morning that you believed in ghosts, when last -night you said you didn’t?” - -I fixed upon him the sharp stare of one amazed at such a question. - -“Belt,” said I, “I am a believer in ghosts. I am also a devout believer -in the report that the moon is made of moldy green cheese.” - -He sniffed a bit, and let me alone on that point, but he returned -to the attack on the ladies. I do not know what idea had found -lodgment in his head; in truth it may have been due to biliousness, -but he suspected them most strongly of what he called treasonable -correspondence with the enemy. I asked him what course he intended to -take in the matter, and he returned a vague answer; but I soon received -intimation of his purpose, for in an hour, leaving me in charge for -the time, he returned to the army. He made a quick trip, and when he -came back he told me he had reported the case at headquarters. The -general, not knowing what else to do with the ladies, had directed -that they be sent to Burgoyne’s army, where, he understood, they had -relatives. - -“He said to me,” said Belt, “that at this time it would be just as well -for the British to take care of their own.” - -Reflecting a little, I decided that the matter had fallen out very -well. If they were in Burgoyne’s camp it would release us all from some -troubles and doubts. - -“You had best go into the house and notify them,” said Belt, “for they -are to be taken to Burgoyne under a white flag this very afternoon.” - -I found Mistress Kate first and told her what Belt had done. She did -not seem to be much surprised. In truth, she said she had expected it. - -“I trust, Mistress Kate,” I said, “that while you are in Burgoyne’s -army you will not let your opinions be influenced too much by your -surroundings.” - -“My opinions are my own,” she said, “and are not dependent upon time -and place.” - -Then I said something about its being a pity that Captain Chudleigh was -a prisoner in our hands at such a time and was not with his own army, -but she gave me such a sharp answer that I was glad to shut my mouth. - -Madame Van Auken said she was glad to go, but she would revisit her -house when she came southward with Burgoyne after he had scattered the -rebels, provided the rebels in the meantime had not burned the house -down. Which, considering many things, I felt I could overlook. Both -promised to be ready in an hour. I went outside and found that Belt was -able to surprise me again. - -“You are to take the ladies into Burgoyne’s camp,” he said. “I wished -to do it myself, but I was needed for other work.” - -I was not at all averse to this task, though it had never occurred to -me that I would enter the British lines, except possibly as a prisoner. - -“I wish you luck,” said Belt, somewhat enviously. “I think the trip -into the British lines is worth taking.” - -Right here I may say--for Belt does not come into this narration -again--that after the war I told him the whole story of these affairs, -which he enjoyed most heartily, and is at this day one among my best -friends. - -The preliminaries about the transfer of the ladies to Burgoyne’s camp -were but few, though I was exposed on the way to much censure from -Madame Van Auken because of my rebel proclivities. In truth, Mistress -Catherine, I think, took after her deceased and lamented father rather -than her mother, who I knew had made the signal of the light to Martyn, -and to Albert, who was on foot near him. But I bore it very well, -inasmuch as one can grow accustomed to almost anything. - -I found that during my few days’ absence our army had pushed up much -closer to Burgoyne, and also that we had increased greatly in numbers. -Nothing could save Burgoyne, so I heard, but the arrival of Clinton -from New York with heavy re-enforcements, and even then, at the best -for Burgoyne, it would be but a problem. My heart swelled with that -sudden elation one feels when a great reward looks certain after long -trial. - -Protected by the flag of truce we approached Burgoyne’s lines. There -were but the three of us, the two ladies and I. Mistress Kate was -very silent; Madame Van Auken, for whom I have the utmost respect, be -her opinions what they may, did the talking for all three. She was -in somewhat exuberant mood, as she expected to rejoin her son, thus -having all her immediate family together under the flag that she loved. -She had no doubt that Burgoyne would beat us. I could not make out -Mistress Kate’s emotions, nor in truth whether she had any; but just -after we were hailed by the first British sentinel she said to me with -an affectation of lightness, though she could not keep her voice from -sounding sincere: - -“My brother will never forget what you have done for him, Dick.” - -“He may or may not,” I replied, “but I hope your brother’s sister will -not.” - -Which may not have been a very gallant speech, but I will leave it to -every just man if I had not endured a good deal in silence. She did -not take any exceptions to my reply, but smiled, which I did not know -whether to consider a good or bad sign. - -I showed a letter from one of our generals to the sentinel, and we -were quickly passed through the lines. We were received by Captain -Jervis, a British officer of much politeness, and I explained to him -that the two ladies whom I was proud to escort were the mother and -sister of Albert Van Auken, who should be with Burgoyne’s army. He -answered at once that he knew Albert, and had seen him not an hour -before. Thereat the ladies rejoiced greatly, knowing that Albert -was safe so far; which perhaps, to my mind, was better luck than he -deserved. But in ten minutes he was brought to us, and embraced his -mother and sister with great warmth; then shaking hands with me-- - -“I’m sorry to see you a prisoner, Dick, my lad,” he said easily, -“especially after you’ve been so obliging to me. But it’s your bad -luck.” - -“I’m not a prisoner,” I replied with some heat, “though you and all the -rest of Burgoyne’s men are likely soon to be. I merely came here under -a flag of truce to bring your mother and sister, and put them out of -the way of cannon balls.” - -He laughed at my boast, and said Burgoyne would soon resume his -promenade to New York. Then he bestirred himself for the comfort of -his mother and sister. He apologized for straitened quarters, but said -he could place them in some very good company, including the Baroness -Riedesel and Madame the wife of General Fraser, at which Madame Van -Auken, who was always fond of people of quality, especially when the -quality was indicated by a title, was pleased greatly. And in truth -they were welcomed most hospitably by the wives of the British and -Hessian officers with Burgoyne’s army, who willingly shared with them -the scarcity of food and lodging they had to offer. When I left them, -Mistress Catherine said to me with a saucy curve of the lip, as if she -would but jest: - -“Take good care of yourself, Dick, and my brother’s sister will try not -to forget you.” - -“Thank you,” I said, “and if it falls in my way to do a good turn for -Captain Chudleigh while he is our prisoner, I will take full advantage -of it.” - -At this she was evidently displeased, though somehow I was not. - -Albert Van Auken took charge of me, and asked me into a tent to meet -some of his fellow officers and take refreshment; which invitation I -promptly accepted, for in those days an American soldier, with wisdom -born of trial, never neglected a chance to get something good to eat or -to drink. - -On my way I observed the condition of Burgoyne’s camp. It was in truth -a stricken army that he led--or rather did not lead, for it seemed now -to be stuck fast. The tents and the wagons were filled with the sick -and the wounded, and many not yet entirely well clustered upon the -grass seeking such consolation as they could find in the talk of each -other. The whole in body, rank and file, sought to preserve a gallant -demeanor, though in spite of it a certain depression was visible on -almost every face. Upon my soul I was sorry for them, enemies though -they were, and the greater their misfortune the greater cause we had -for joy, which, I take it, is one of the grievous things about war. - -It was a large tent into which Albert took me, and I met there Captain -Jervis and several other officers, two or three of whom seemed to be of -higher rank than captain, though I did not exactly catch their names, -for Albert spoke somewhat indistinctly when making the introductions. -There seemed to be a degree of comfort in the tent--bottles, glasses, -and other evidences of social warmth. - -“We wish to be hospitable to a gallant enemy like yourself, Mr. -Shelby,” said Captain Jervis, “and are not willing that you should -return to your own army without taking refreshment with us.” - -I thanked him for his courtesy, and said I was quite willing to be a -live proof of their hospitality; whereupon they filled the glasses with -a very unctuous, fine-flavored wine, and we drank to the health of the -wide world. It had been long since good wine had passed my lips, and -when they filled the glasses a second time I said in my heart that -they were gentlemen. At the same time I wondered to myself a bit why -officers of such high rank, as some of these seemed to be, should pay -so much honor to me, who was but young and the rank of whom was but -small. Yet I must confess that this slight wonder had no bad effect -upon the flavor of the wine. - -Some eatables of a light and delicate nature were handed around by an -orderly, and all of us partook, after which we drank a third glass -of wine. Then the officers talked most agreeably about a variety of -subjects, even including the latest gossip they had brought with them -from the Court of St. James. Then we took a fourth glass of wine. I am -not a heavy drinker, as heavy drinkers go, and have rather a strong -head, but a humming of the distant sea began in my ears and the talk -moved far away. I foresaw that Richard Shelby had drunk enough, and -that it was time for me to exercise my strongest will over his somewhat -rebellious head. - -“I suppose that you Americans are very sanguine just now, and expect to -take our entire army,” said the oldest and apparently the highest of -the officers--colonel or general, something or other--to me. - -I noted that he was overwhelmingly polite in tone. Moreover, my -will was acquiring mastery over Dick Shelby’s humming head. I made -an ambiguous reply, and he went further into the subject of the -campaign, the other officers joining him and indulging slightly in -jest at our expense, as if they would lead me on to boast. To make a -clean confession in the matter, I felt some inclination to a little -vaunting. He said something about our hope to crush Burgoyne, and -laughed as if it were quite impossible. - -“English armies are never taken,” said he. - -“But they have never before warred with the Americans,” I said. - -I recalled afterward that some of the officers applauded me for that -reply, which was strange considering their sympathies. The old officer -showed no offense. - -“Have you heard that Sir Henry Clinton is coming to our relief with -five thousand men?” he asked. - -“No; have you?” I replied. - -I was applauded again, and the officer laughed. - -“You take me up quickly. You have a keen mind, Mr. Shelby; it’s a pity -you’re not one of us,” he said. - -“That would be bad for me,” I said, “as I do not wish to become a -prisoner.” - -This was a bit impertinent and ungenerous, I will admit, but I had -drunk four glasses of wine and they were nagging me. They filled up -the glasses again, and most of them drank, but I only sipped mine, -meanwhile strengthening my rule over Dick Shelby’s mutinous head. The -officer laughed easily at my reply and began to talk about the chances -of the next battle, which he was sure the British would win. He said -Burgoyne had six thousand men, English and Hessians, and in quite a -careless way he asked how many we had. - -By this time I had Dick Shelby’s unruly head under complete control, -and his question, lightly put as it was, revealed their whole plan. -Right then and there I felt a most painful regret that I had not given -Albert Van Auken the worst beating of his life when I had the chance. - -I replied that I could not say exactly how many men we had, but the -number was somewhere between a thousand and a million, and at any rate -sufficient for the purpose. He laughed gently as if he were willing -to tolerate me, and continued to put questions in manner sly and most -insidious. I returned answers vague or downright false, and I could -see that the officer was becoming vexed at his want of success. Albert -himself filled up my glass and urged me to drink again. - -“You know, Dick, you don’t get good wine often,” he said, “and this -may be your last chance.” - -Had not I been a guest I would have created, right then and there, a -second opportunity for giving Albert the worst beating of his life. -I pretended to drink, though I merely sipped the fumes. The elderly -officer changed his tactics a little. - -“Do you think your generals are well informed about us?” he asked. - -“Oh, yes,” I replied. - -“How?” - -“We learn from prisoners,” I said, “and then, perhaps, we ask sly -questions from Englishmen who come to us under flags of truce.” - -“What do you mean?” he asked, his face--and I was glad to see -it--reddening. - -“I mean,” said I, “that you have brought me into this tent with purpose -to intoxicate me and get valuable information from me. It was a plot -unworthy of gentlemen.” - -He rose to his feet, his eyes flashing with much anger. But the -wine I had drunk made me very belligerent. I was ready to fight a -thousand--come one, come all. Moreover, I leave it to all if I did -not have just cause for wrath. I turned from the officer to Albert, -against whom my indignation burned most. - -“I have just saved you from death, perhaps a most degrading death,” I -said, “and I am loath to remind you of it, but I must, in order to tell -your fellow officers I am sorry I did it.” - -I never saw a man turn redder, and he trembled all over. It was the -scarlet of shame, too, and not of righteous anger. - -“Dick,” he said, “I beg your pardon. I let my zeal for our cause go too -far. I--I----” - -I think he would have broken down, but just then the elderly officer -interfered. - -“Be silent, Lieutenant Van Auken,” he said. “It is not your fault, nor -that of any other present except myself. You speak truth, Mr. Shelby, -when you say it was unworthy of us. So it was. I am glad it failed, and -I apologize for the effort to make it a success. Mr. Shelby, I am glad -to know you.” - -He held out his hand with such frank manliness and evident good will -that I grasped it and shook it heartily. What more he might have said -or done I do not know, for just then we were interrupted by the sound -of a great though distant shouting. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -A NIGHT UNDER FIRE. - - -The shouting begat curiosity in us all, and we left the tent, the -elderly officer leading. I perceived at once that the noise came from -our lines, which were pushed up very close to those of the British and -were within plain hearing distance. Among the trees and bushes, which -were very dense at points, I could see in the brilliant sunshine the -flash of rifle barrel and the gleam of uniform. The shouting was great -in volume, swelling like a torrent rising to the flood. - -I remained by the side of the old officer. He seemed anxious. - -“What is it? What can that mean? It must be something important,” he -asked as much of himself as of me. - -The reply was ready for him, as some English skirmishers came forward -with an American prisoner whom they had taken but a few moments -before. The man was but a common soldier, ragged, but intelligent. The -officer put to him his question about the shouting, which had not yet -subsided. - -“That was a welcome,” said the prisoner. - -“A welcome! What do you mean by that?” - -“Simply that more re-enforcements have come from the south.” - -The officer grew even graver. - -“More men always coming for them and never any for us,” he said, almost -under his breath. - -I had it in mind to suggest that I be returned at once to my own -army, but the arrival of the troops or other cause created a sudden -recrudescence of the skirmishing. Piff-paff chanted the rifles; zip-zip -chirped the bullets. Little blades of flame spurted up among the -bushes, and above them rose the white curls of smoke like baby clouds. -On both sides the riflemen were at work. - -The officer looked about him as if he intended to give some special -orders, and then seemed to think better of it. A bullet passed through -the tent we had just left. I felt that my American uniform took me out -of the list of targets. - -“Your sharpshooters seem to have come closer,” said the officer. “Their -bullets fell short this morning. I will admit they are good men with -the rifle--better than ours.” - -“These are countrymen,” I said. “They have been trained through boyhood -to the use of the rifle.” - -I was looking at the fringe of trees and bushes which half hid our -lines. Amid the boughs of a tall tree whose foliage was yet untouched -by autumn I saw what I took to be a man’s figure; but the leaves were -so dense and so green I was not sure. Moreover, the man, if man it -was, seemed to wear clothing of the hue of the leaves. I decided I was -mistaken; then I knew I had been right at first guess, for I saw the -green body within the green curtain of leaves move out upon a bough and -raise its head a little. The sun flashed upon a rifle barrel, and the -next instant the familiar curl of white smoke rose from its muzzle. - -The officer had opened his mouth to speak to me, but the words remained -unspoken. His face went pale as if all the blood had suddenly gone -out of him, and he flopped down like an emptied bag at my feet, shot -through the heart. - -I was seized with a shivering horror. He was talking to me one moment -and dead the next. His fall, seen by so many, created a confusion in -the British lines. Several rushed forward to seize the body and carry -it away. Just as the first man reached it, he too was slain by a hidden -sharpshooter, and the two bodies lay side by side. - -Acting from impulse rather than thought, I lifted the officer by the -shoulders and began to drag him back into the camp. Whether or not my -uniform protected me I can not say, but I was hit by no bullet, though -the skirmishing became so sharp and so hot that it rose almost to the -dignity of a battle. The officer’s body was withdrawn beyond the range -of the sharpshooting and placed in a tent. Though he had sought to -entrap me he had made handsome apology therefor, and I mourned him as I -would a friend. Why should men filled with mutual respect be compelled -to shoot each other? - -Albert came to me there, and said in a very cold voice: - -“Dick, this sudden outburst will compel you to remain our guest some -time longer--perhaps through the night.” - -I turned my back upon him, and when he left I do not know, but when I -looked that way again he was gone, for which I was in truth very glad. -Yet I would have liked to ask him about Kate and her mother. I wondered -if they were safe from the stray bullets of the sharpshooters. - -In the stir of this strife at long range I seemed to be forgotten by -the British, as I had been forgotten by my own people. My Continental -uniform was none of the brightest, and even those who noticed it -apparently took me for a privileged prisoner. When I left the tent in -which the officer’s body lay I came back toward the American army, but -the patter of the bullets grew so lively around me that I retreated. It -is bad enough to be killed by an enemy, I imagine, but still worse to -be killed by a friend. - -The day was growing old and the night would soon be at hand. Our -sharpshooters held such good positions that they swept most of the -British camp. I do not claim to be a great military man, but I was -convinced that if the British did not dislodge these sharpshooters -their position would become untenable. The night, so far from serving -them, would rather be a benefit to their enemies, for the lights in the -British camp would guide the bullets of the hidden riflemen to their -targets. - -The bustle in the camp increased, and I observed that details of men -were sent to the front. They took off their bright coats, which were -fine marks for the riflemen, and it was evident that they intended to -match our sharpshooters at their own business. Many of these men were -Germans, who, I have heard, have always been accounted good marksmen in -Europe. - -Nobody caring about me, I took position on a little knoll where I could -see and yet be beyond range. The sun, as if wishing to do his best -before going down, was shining with marvelous brilliancy. The incessant -pit-pat of the rifle fire, like the crackling of hail, drew all eyes -toward the American line. It seemed to me that only the speedy coming -of the night could prevent a great battle. - -The crackling flared up suddenly into a volley, betokening the arrival -of the fresh British skirmishers at the point of action. The little -white curls of smoke were gathering together and forming a great cloud -overhead. Presently some wounded were taken past. - -There was a movement and gathering of men near me. Quite a body of -soldiers, a company, it seemed, were drawn up. Then, with fixed -bayonets, they advanced upon the American line. I guessed that the -skirmishers were intended to attract the attention of our people, while -this company hoped to clear the woods of the sharpshooters and release -the British camp from their galling fire. The British advanced with -gallantry. I give them credit for that always--that is, nearly always. - -The firing had reached an exceeding degree of activity, but I did -not see any man in the company fall. By this I concluded that their -skirmishers were keeping our own busy, and I was in some apprehension -lest this strong squad should fall suddenly and with much force upon -our outposts. Forward they went at a most lively pace and preserving a -very even rank, their bayonets shining brightly in the late sun. The -British boast much about their ability with the bayonet. We know less -about ours, because almost our only way of getting bayonets was to take -them from the British, which we did more than once. - -Two or three British officers gathered on the knoll to watch the -movement. Among these was Captain Jervis, whom I liked well. He spoke -pleasantly to me, and said, pointing at the company which was now very -near to the wood: - -“That charge, I think, is going to be a success, Mr. Shelby, and your -sharpshooters will find it more comfortable to keep a little farther -away from us.” - -He spoke with a certain pride, as if he would hold our people a little -more cheaply than his own. - -I made no reply, for another and better answer from a different source -was ready. There was a very vivid blaze from the wood and the crash of -a heavy volley. The head of the column was shattered, nay, crushed, -and the body of it reeled like a man to whom has been dealt a stunning -blow. It was apparent that our people had seen the movement and had -gathered in force in the wood to repel it, striking at the proper -moment. - -The company rallied and advanced most bravely a second time to the -charge; but the flash of the rifles was so steady and so fast that the -woods seemed to be spouting fire. The British fell back quickly and -then broke into a discreet run into their own encampment. - -“You will perceive,” said I to Captain Jervis, “that our people have -not yet retired for the night.” - -He laughed a little, though on the wrong side of his mouth. I could see -that he felt chagrin, and so I said no more on that point. - -As if by concert our sharpshooters also pushed up closer, and being so -much better at that business drove in those of Burgoyne. The Germans, -in particular, knowing but little of forests, fared badly. - -Though I was neither in it nor of it, I felt much elation at our little -triumph. In truth the consequences, if not important of themselves, -were significant of greater things. They showed that Burgoyne’s -beleaguered battalions could rest hope only on two things, the arrival -of Clinton or victory in a pitched battle. But now Burgoyne could not -even protect his own camp. It was reached in many parts by the fire of -the sharpshooters drawn in a deadly ring around it. The night came, and -as far as possible the lights in the camp were put out, but the firing -went on, and no British sentinel was safe at his post. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -MY GUIDE. - - -I remember no night in which I saw more misery. The sharpshooters never -slept, and the dark seemed to profit them as much as the day. They -enveloped the British camp like a swarm of unseen bees, all the more -deadly because no man knew where they hovered nor whence nor when the -sting would come. Men brave in the day are less brave at night, and -every British officer I saw looked worn, and fearful of the future. I -confess that I began to grow anxious on my own account, for in this -darkness my old Continentals could not serve as a warning that I was no -proper target. I have always preserved a high regard for the health and -welfare of Richard Shelby, Esq., and I withdrew him farther into the -camp. There I saw many wounded and more sick, and but scant means for -their treatment. Moreover, the list of both was increasing, and even -as I wandered about, the fresh-wounded were taken past me, sometimes -crying out in their pain. - -There were many who took no part in the fighting--Tories who had come -to the British camp with their wives and little children, and the wives -of the English and Hessian officers who had come down from Canada with -them, expecting a march of glory and triumph to New York. For these I -felt most sorrow, as it is very cruel that women and children should -have to look upon war. More than once I heard the lamentations of women -and the frightened weeping of little children. Sometimes the flaring -torches showed me their scared faces. These non-combatants, in truth, -were beyond the range of the fire, but the wounded men were always -before them. - -It was but natural that amid so much tumult and suspense I should -remain forgotten. My uniform, dingy in the brightest sun, was scarce -noticeable in the half-lit dusk, and I wandered about the camp almost -at will. The night was not old before I noticed the bustle of great -preparations. Officers hurried about as if time of a sudden had -doubled its value. Soldiers very anxiously examined their muskets -and bayonets; cannon were wheeled into more compact batteries; more -ammunition was gathered at convenient points. On all faces I saw -expectation. - -I thought at first that some night skirmish was intended, but the -bustle and the hurrying extended too much for that. I set about more -thorough explorations, and it was easy enough to gather that Burgoyne -intended to risk all in a pitched battle on the morrow. These were the -preparations for it. - -Curiosity had taken away from me, for the moment, the desire to go back -to my own people, but now it returned with double force. It was not -likely that my warning of the coming battle could be of much value, -for our forces were vigilant; but I had the natural desire of youth to -be with our own army, and not with that of the enemy, at the coming of -such a great event. - -But the chance for my return looked very doubtful. Both armies were too -busy to pay heed to a flag of truce even if it could be seen in the -night. - -I wandered about looking for some means of escape to our own lines, -and in seeking to reach the other side of the camp passed once more -through the space in which the women and children lay. I saw a little -one-roomed house, abandoned long since by its owners. The uncertain -light from the window fought with the shadows outside. - -I stepped to the window, which was open, and looked in. They had -turned the place into a hospital. A doctor with sharp instruments in -his hand was at work. A woman with strong white arms, bare almost to -the shoulder, was helping him. She turned away presently, her help not -needed just then, and saw my face at the window. - -“Dick,” she said in a tone low, but not too low to express surprise, -“why haven’t you returned to the army?” - -“Because I can’t, Kate,” I said. “My flag of truce is forgotten, and -the bullets are flying too fast through the dark for me to make a dash -for it.” - -“There should be a way.” - -“Maybe, but I haven’t found it.” - -“Albert ought to help you.” - -“There are many things Albert ought to do which he doesn’t do,” I said. - -“Don’t think too badly of him.” - -“I think I’ll try to escape through the far side of the camp,” I said, -nodding my head in the way I meant to go. - -“We owe you much, Dick, for what you have done for us,” she said, “and -we wish you safety on that account, and more so on your own account.” - -She put her hand out of the window and I squeezed it a little. - -Perhaps that was Chudleigh’s exclusive right. - -But she did not complain, and Chudleigh knew nothing about it. - -The British camp was surrounded, but on the side to which I was now -coming the fire of the sharpshooters was more intermittent. It was the -strongest part of the British lines, but I trusted that on such account -the way for my escape would be more open there. At night, with so much -confusion about, it would not be easy to guard every foot of ground. I -walked very slowly until I came almost to the outskirts of the camp; -then I stopped to consider. - -In the part of the camp where I stood it was very dark. Some torches -were burning in a half-hearted fashion forty or fifty feet away, -but their own light only made the dusk around me the deeper. I was -endeavoring to select the exact point at which I would seek to pass the -lines, when some one touched me with light hand upon the shoulder. - -I turned my head and saw Albert Van Auken, clad in the same cloak he -wore the night he tried to counterfeit his sister. I was about to walk -away, for I still felt much anger toward him, when he touched me again -with light hand, and said in such a low voice that I could scarce hear: - -“I am going to pay you back, at least in part, Dick. I will help you to -escape. Come!” - -Well, I was glad that he felt shame at last for the way in which he had -acted. It had taken him a long time to learn that he owed me anything. -But much of my wrath against him departed. It was too dark for me to -see the expression of shame which I knew must be imprinted upon his -face, but on his account I was not sorry that I could not see it. - -He led the way, stepping very lightly, toward a row of baggage wagons -which seemed to have been drawn up as a sort of fortification. It -looked like a solid line, and I wondered if he would attempt to crawl -under them, but when we came nearer I saw an open space of half a yard -or so between two of them. Albert slipped through this crack without a -word, and I followed. On the other side he stopped for a few moments in -the shadow of the wagons, and I, of course, imitated him. - -I could see sentinels to the right and to the left of us, walking about -as if on beats. On the hills, not so very far from us, the camp-fires -of the American army were burning. - -I perceived that it was a time for silence, and I waited for Albert -to be leader, as perhaps knowing the ground better than I. A moment -came presently when all the sentinels were somewhat distant from us. -He stepped forward with most marvelous lightness, and in a few breaths -we were beyond the line of the sentinels. I thought there was little -further danger, and I was much rejoiced, both because of my escape and -because it was Albert who had done such a great service for me. - -“I trust you will forgive me, Albert, for some of the hard words I -spoke to you,” I said. “Remember that I spoke in anger and without full -knowledge of you.” - -He put his fingers upon his lips as a sign for me to be silent, and -continued straight ahead toward the American army. I followed. Some -shots were fired, but we were in a sort of depression, and I had full -confidence they were not intended for us, but were drawn by the lights -in the British camp. Yet I believed that Albert had gone far enough. -He had shown me the way, and no more was needed. I did not wish him to -expose himself to our bullets. - -“Go back, Albert,” I said. “I know the way now, and I do not wish you -to become our prisoner.” - -He would not pause until we had gone a rod farther. Then he pointed -toward our camp-fires ahead, and turned about as if he would go back. - -“Albert,” I said, “let us forget what I said when in anger, and part -friends.” - -I seized his hand in my grasp, though he sought to evade me. The hand -was small and warm, and then I knew that the deception Albert had -practiced upon me a night or so before had enabled Albert’s sister to -do the same. - -“Kate!” I exclaimed. “Why have you done this?” - -“For you,” said she, snatching her hand from mine and fleeing so -swiftly toward the British camp that I could not stop her. - -In truth I did not follow her, but mused for a moment on the great -change a slouch hat, a long cloak, and a pair of cavalry boots can make -in one’s appearance on a dark night. - -As I stood in the dark and she was going toward the light, I could -watch her figure. I saw her pass between the wagons again and knew that -she was safe. Then I addressed myself to my own task. - -I stood in a depression of the ground, and on the hills, some hundreds -of yards before me, our camp-fires glimmered. The firing on this side -was so infrequent that it was often several minutes between shots. All -the bullets, whether British or American, passed high over my head, for -which I was truly glad. - -I made very good progress toward our lines, until I heard ahead of me a -slight noise as of some one moving about. I presumed that it was one -of our sharpshooters, and was about to call gently, telling him who I -was. I was right in my presumption, but not quick enough with my hail, -for his rifle was fired so close to me that the blaze of the exploding -powder seemed to leap at me. That the bullet in truth was aimed at me -there was no doubt, for I felt its passage so near my face that it made -me turn quite cold and shiver. - -“Hold! I am a friend!” I shouted. - -“Shoot the damned British spy! Don’t let him get away!” cried the -sharpshooter. - -Two or three other sharpshooters, taking him at his word, fired at my -figure faintly seen in the darkness. None hit me, but I was seized with -a sudden and great feeling of discomfort. Seeing that it was not a time -for explanations, I turned and ran back in the other direction. One -more shot was fired at me as I ran, and I was truly thankful that I was -a swift runner and a poor target. - -In a few moments I was beyond the line of their fire, and, rejoicing -over my escape from present dangers, was meditating how to escape from -those of the future, when a shot was fired from a new point of the -compass, and some one cried out: - -“Shoot him, the Yankee spy! the damned rebel! Don’t let him escape!” - -And in good truth those to whom he spoke this violent command obeyed -with most alarming promptness, for several muskets were discharged -instantly and the bullets flew about me. - -I turned back with surprising quickness and fled toward the American -camp, more shots pursuing me, but fortune again saving me from their -sting. I could hear the Englishmen repeating their cries to each other -not to let the rebel spy escape. Then I bethought me it was time to -stop, or in a moment or two I would hear the Americans shouting to each -other not to let the infernal British spy escape. I recognized the very -doubtful nature of my position. It seemed as if both the British and -American armies, horse and foot, had quit their legitimate business of -fighting each other and had gone to hunting me, a humble subaltern, who -asked nothing of either just then but personal safety. Was I to dance -back and forth between them forever? - -Some lightning thoughts passed through my mind, but none offered a -solution of my problem. Chance was kinder. I stumbled on a stone, -and flat I fell in a little gully. There I concluded to stay for -the while. I pressed very close against the earth and listened to a -rapid discharge of rifles and muskets. Then I perceived that I had -revenge upon them both, for in their mutual chase of me the British -and American skirmishers had come much closer together, and were now -engaged in their proper vocation of shooting at each other instead of -at me. - -I, the unhappy cause of it all, lay quite still, and showered thanks -upon that kindly little gully for getting in my way and receiving my -falling body at such an opportune moment. The bullets were flying very -fast over my head, but unless some fool shot at the earth instead of -at a man I was safe. The thought that there might be some such fool -made me shiver. Had I possessed the power, I would have burrowed my way -through the earth to the other side, which they say is China. - -It was the battle of Blenheim, at least, that seemed to be waged at -the back of my head, for my nose was pressed into the earth and my -imagination lent much aid to facts. I seemed to cower there for hours, -and then one side began to retreat. It was the British, the Americans, -I suppose, being in stronger force and also more skillful at this kind -of warfare. The diminishing fire swept back toward the British lines -and then died out like a languid blaze. - -I heard the tramp of feet, and a heavy man with a large foot stepped -squarely upon my back. - -“Hello!” said the owner. “Here’s one, at least, that we’ve brought -down!” - -“English, or Hessian?” asked another. - -“Can’t tell,” said the first. “He’s lying on his face, and, besides, -he’s half buried in a gully. We’ll let him stay here; I guess this -gully will do for his grave.” - -“No, it won’t, Whitestone!” said I, sitting up. “When the right time -comes for me to be buried I want a grave deeper than this.” - -“Good Lord! is it you, Mr. Shelby?” exclaimed Whitestone, in surprise -and genuine gladness. - -“Yes, it is I,” I replied, “and in pretty sound condition too, when you -consider the fact that all the British and American soldiers in the -province of New York have been firing point-blank at me for the last -two hours.” - -Then I described my tribulations, and Whitestone, saying I should deem -myself lucky to have fared so well, went with me to our camp. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE SUN OF SARATOGA. - - -Dangers and troubles past have never prevented me from sleeping well, -and when I awoke the next morning it was with Whitestone pulling at my -shoulder. - -“This is the third shake,” said he. - -“But the last,” said I, getting up and rubbing my eyes. - -I have seldom seen a finer morning. The fresh crispness of early -October ran through the brilliant sunshine. The earth was bathed in -light. It was such a sun as I have heard rose on the morning of the -great battle of Austerlitz, fought but recently. A light wind blew from -the west. The blood bubbled in my veins. - -“It’s lucky that so many of us should have such a fine day for leaving -the world,” said Whitestone. - -The battle, the final struggle for which we had been looking so long, -was at hand. I had not mistaken the preparations in the British camp -the night before. - -I have had my share, more or less humble, in various campaigns and -combats, but I have not seen any other battle begun with so much -deliberation as on that morning. In truth all whom I could see appeared -to be calm. A man is sometimes very brave and sometimes much afraid--I -do not know why--but that day the braver part of me was master. - -We were ready and waiting to see what the British would do, when -Burgoyne, with his picked veterans, came out of his intrenchments and -challenged us to battle, much as the knights of the old time used to -invite one another to combat. - -They were not so many as we--we have never made that claim; but they -made a most gallant show, all armed in the noble style with which -Britain equips her troops, particularly the bayonets, of which we have -had but few in the best of times, and none, most often. - -They sat down in close rank on the hillside, as if they were quite -content with what we might do or try to do, whatever it might be. I -have heard many say it was this vaunting over us that chiefly caused -the war. - -The meaning of the British was evident to us all. If this picked force -could hold its own against our attack, the remainder of their army -would be brought up and an attempt to inflict a crushing defeat upon -us would be made; if it could not hold its own, it would retreat into -the intrenchments, where the whole British army would defend itself at -vantage. - -Farther back in the breastworks I could see the British gazing out at -their chosen force and at us. I even imagined that I could see women -looking over, and that perhaps Kate Van Auken was one of them. I say -again, how like it was in preparation and manner to one of the old -tournaments! Perhaps it was but my fancy. - -There was no movement in our lines. So far as we could judge just then, -we were merely looking on, as if it were no affair of ours. In the -British force some one played a tune on a fife which sounded to me like -“Won’t you dare?” - -“Why did we take so much care to hem them in and then refuse to fight -them?” asked I impatiently of Whitestone. - -“What time o’ day is it?” asked Whitestone. - -“I don’t know,” I replied, “but it’s early.” - -“I never answer such questions before sundown,” said Whitestone. - -Content with his impolite but wise reply, I asked no more, noticing at -times the red squares of the British, and at other times the dazzling -circle of the red sun. - -Suddenly the British began to move. They came on in most steady manner, -their fine order maintained. - -“Good!” said Whitestone. “They mean to turn our left.” - -We were on the left, which might be good or bad. Be that as it may, -I perceived that our waiting was over. I do not think we felt any -apprehension. We were in strong force, and we New Yorkers were on the -left, and beside us our brethren of New England, very strenuous men. We -did not fear the British bayonet of which our enemies boast so much. -While we watched their advance, I said to Whitestone: - -“I will not ask that question again before sundown.” - -“I trust that you will be able to ask it then, and I to answer it,” -replied he. - -Which was about as solemn as Whitestone ever became. - -Looking steadily at the British, I saw a man in their front rank fall. -Almost at the same time I heard the report of a rifle just in front of -us, and I knew that one of our sharpshooters had opened the battle. - -This shot was like a signal. The sharp crackling sound ran along the -grass like fire in a forest, and more men fell in the British lines. -Their own skirmishers replied, and while the smoke was yet but half -risen a heavy jerky motion seized our lines and we seemed to lift -ourselves up. A thrill of varying emotions passed through me. I knew -that we were going to attack the British, not await their charge. - -Our drummers began to beat a reply to theirs, but I paid small -attention to them. The fierce pattering from the rifles of the -skirmishers and the whistling of the bullets now coming about our ears -were far more important sounds. But the garrulous drums beat on. - -“Here goes!” said Whitestone. - -The drums leaped into a faster tune, and we, keeping pace with the -redoubled rub-a-dub, charged into a cloud of smoke spangled with -flaming spots. The smoke filled my eyes and I could not see, but I was -borne on by my own will and the solid rush of the men beside me and -behind me. Then my eyes cleared partly, and I saw a long red line in -front of us. Those in the first rank were on one knee, and I remember -thinking how sharp their bayonets looked. The thought was cut short -by a volley and a blaze which seemed to envelop their whole line. A -huge groan arose from our ranks. I missed the shoulder against my left -shoulder--the man who had stood beside me was no longer there. - -We paused only for a moment to fire in our turn, and our groan found an -equal echo among the British. Then, officers shouting commands and men -shouting curses, we rushed upon the bayonets. - -I expected to be spitted through, and do not know why I was not; but in -the turmoil of noise and flame and smoke I swept forward with all the -rest. When we struck them I felt a mighty shock, as if I were the whole -line instead of one man. Then came the joy of the savage when their -line--bayonets and all--reeled back and shivered under the crash of -ours. - -I shouted madly, and struck through the smoke with my sword. I was -conscious that I stepped on something softer than the earth, that it -crunched beneath my feet; but I thought little of it. Instead I rushed -on, hacking with my sword at the red blurs in the smoke. - -I do not say it as a boast, for there were more of us than of -them--though they used to claim that they did not care for numbers--but -they could place small check upon our advance, although they had cannon -as well as bayonets. Their red line, very much seamed and scarred now, -was driven back, and still farther back, up the hill. Our men, long -anxious for this battle and sure of triumph, poured after them like -a rising torrent. The British were not strong enough, and were swept -steadily toward their intrenchments. - -“Do you hear that?” shouted some one in my ear. - -“Hear what?” I shouted in reply, turning to Whitestone. - -“The cannon and the rifles across yonder,” he said, nodding his head. - -Then I noticed the angry crash of artillery and small arms to our left, -and I knew by the sound that not we alone but the whole battle front of -both armies was engaged. - -If the British, as it seemed, wanted a decisive test of strength, they -would certainly get it. - -For a few moments the smoke rolled over us in such volume that I could -not see Whitestone, who was but three feet from me, but I perceived -that we had wheeled a little, and nobody was before us. Then the smoke -drifted aside, and our men uttered a most tremendous shout, for all -the British who were alive or could walk had been driven into their -intrenchments, and, so far as that, we were going to carry their -intrenchments too, or try. - -I think that all of us took a very long breath, for I still had the -strange feeling that our whole line was one single living thing, and -whatever happened to it I felt. The cannon from the intrenchments were -fired straight into our faces, but our bloody line swept on. I leaped -upon a ridge of newly thrown earth and struck at a tall cap. I heard a -tremendous swearing, long volleys of deep German oaths. We were among -the paid Hessians, whom we ever hated more than the British for coming -to fight us in a quarrel that was none of theirs. - -The Hessians, even with their intrenchments and cannon, could not stand -before us--nor do I think they are as good as we. Perhaps our hatred -of these mercenaries swelled our zeal, but their intrenchments were no -barrier to us. For a space we fought them hand to hand, knee to knee; -then they gave way. I saw their slain commander fall. Some fled, some -yielded; others fought on, retreating. - -I rushed forward and called upon a Hessian to surrender. For answer he -stabbed straight at my throat with his bayonet. He would have surely -hit the mark, but a man beside him knocked the bayonet away with his -sword, calling out at the same moment to me. - -“That’s part payment of my debt to you, Dick.” - -He was gone in the smoke, and as I was busy receiving the surrender of -the Hessian and his bayonet I could not follow him. I looked around for -more to do, but all the Hessians who had not fled had yielded, and the -fight was ours. Burgoyne had not only failed in the pitched battle in -the open field, but we had taken many of his cannon and a portion of -his camp. His entire army, no longer able to face us in any sort of -contest, lay exposed to our attack. - -I wondered why we did not rush on and finish it all then, but I noticed -for the first time that the twilight had come and the skies were -growing dark over the field of battle. I must have spoken my thoughts -aloud, for Whitestone, at my elbow, said: - -“No use having more men killed, Mr. Shelby; we’ve nothing to do now but -hold fast to what we’ve got, and the rest will come to us.” - -Whitestone sometimes spoke to me in a fatherly manner, though I was his -superior. But I forgave him. I owed much to him. - -The battle ceased as suddenly as it had begun. The long shadows of the -night seemed to cover everything and bring peace, though the cries of -the wounded reminded us of what had been done. We gathered up the hurt, -relieving all we could; but later in the night the sharpshooters began -again. - -I was exultant over our victory and the certainty of a still greater -triumph to come. I rejoiced that Albert had not forgotten his debt to -me and had found a way of repayment, but I felt anxiety also. In the -rush of the battle, with the bullets flying one knew not whither, not -even the women and children lying in that portion of the British camp -yet intact were safe. - -The wounded removed, I had nothing more to do but to wait. Only then -did I remember to be thankful that I was unhurt. I had much smoke grime -upon my face, and I dare say I was not fine to look at, but I thought -little of those things. Whitestone, who also was free from active duty, -joined me, and I was glad. He drew his long pipe from the interior of -his waistcoat, filled it with tobacco, lighted it and became happy. - -“It has been a good day’s work,” he said at length. - -“Yes, for us,” I replied. “What will be the next step, Whitestone?” - -“The British will retreat soon,” he said. “We will follow without -pressing them too hard. No use to waste our men now. In a week the -British will be ours.” - -Whitestone spoke with such assurance that I was convinced. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE NIGHT AFTER. - - -But a dull murmur arose from the two camps, victor and vanquished. Both -seemed to sleep for the morrow. I had done so much guard duty of late -that I looked for such assignment as a matter of course, and this night -was no exception. With Whitestone and some soldiers I was to guard one -of the little passes between the hills. We were merely an alarm corps; -we could not stop a passage, but there were enough behind us whom we -could arouse for the purpose. The British might retreat farther into -the interior, but the river and its banks must be closed to them. - -We stood in the dark, but we could see the wavering lights of either -camp. The murmur as it came to us was very low. The two armies rested -as if they were sunk in a lethargy after their strenuous efforts of the -day. I did not regret my watch. I did not care to sleep. The fever of -the fight yet lingering in my blood, I was not so old to battle that I -could lie down and find slumber as soon as the fighting ended. - -“Mr. Shelby,” said Whitestone, “is there any rule or regulation against -a pipe to-night?” - -“I know of none, Whitestone,” I said. - -He was satisfied, and lighted his pipe, which increased his -satisfaction. I strolled about a little, watching the lights and -meditating upon the events of the day. The camps stood higher than I, -and they looked like huge black clouds shot through here and there -with bits of flame. I believed Whitestone’s assurance that Burgoyne -would retreat on the morrow; but I wondered what he would attempt after -that. Clinton’s arrival might save him, but it seemed to me that the -possibility of such an event was fast lessening. In this fashion I -passed an hour or two; then it occurred to me to approach the British -camp a little more closely and see what movements there might be on the -outskirts, if any. Telling Whitestone of my intent, I advanced some -forty or fifty yards. From that point, though still beyond rifle shot, -I could see figures in the British camp when they passed between me and -the firelight. - -There was one light larger than the others--near the center of the camp -it seemed to be--and figures passed and repassed in front of it like a -procession. Presently I noticed that these shapes passed in fours, and -they were carrying something. It seemed a curious thing, and I watched -it a little; then I understood what they were doing: they were burying -the dead. - -I could easily have crept nearer and fired some bullets into the -British camp, but I had no such intent. That was the business -of others, and even then I could hear the far-away shots of the -sharpshooters. - -The sights of this stricken camp interested me. The ground was -favorable for concealment, and I crept nearer. Lying among some weeds I -could obtain a good view. The figures before indistinct and shapeless -now took form and outline. I could tell which were officers and which -were soldiers. - -Some men were digging in the hillside. They soon ceased, and four -others lifted a body from the grass and put it in the grave. A woman -came forward and read from a little book. My heart thrilled when I -recognized the straight figure and earnest face of Kate Van Auken. Yet -there was no need for me to be surprised at the sight of her. It was -like her to give help on such a night. - -I could not hear the words, but I knew they were a prayer, and I bowed -my head. When she finished the prayer and they began to throw in the -earth, she walked away and I lost sight of her; but I guessed that she -went on to other and similar duties. I turned about to retreat, and -stumbled over a body. - -A feeble voice bade me be more careful, and not run over a gentleman -who was not bothering me but attending to his own business. A -British officer, very pale and weak--I could see that even in the -obscurity--sat up and looked reproachfully at me. - -“Aren’t you rebels satisfied with beating us?” he asked in a faint -voice scarce above a whisper. “Do you want to trample on us too?” - -“I beg your pardon,” I said. “I did not see you.” - -“If any harm was done, your apology has removed it,” he replied most -politely. - -I looked at him with interest. His voice was not the only weak thing -about him. He seemed unable to sit up, but was in a half-reclining -position, with his shoulder propped against a stone. He was young. - -“What’s the matter?” I asked, sympathizing much. - -“I’m in the most embarrassing position of my life,” he replied, with -a faint attempt at a laugh. “One of your confounded rebel bullets has -gone through both my thighs. I don’t think it has struck any bone, but -I have lost so much blood that I can neither walk, nor can I cry out -loud enough for my people to come and rescue me, nor for your people to -come and capture me. I think the bleeding has stopped. The blood seems -to have clogged itself up.” - -I was bound to admit that he had truly described his position as -embarrassing. - -“What would you do if you were in my place?” he asked. - -I didn’t know, and said so. Yet I had no mind to abandon him. The -positions reversed, I would have a very cruel opinion of him were he -to abandon me. He could not see my face, and he must have had some idea -that I was going to desert him. - -“You won’t leave me, will you?” he asked anxiously. - -His tone appealed to me, and I assured him very warmly that I would -either take him a prisoner into our camp or send him into his own. Then -I sat my head to the task, for either way it was a problem. I doubted -whether I could carry him to our camp, which was far off comparatively, -as he looked like a heavy Briton. I certainly could carry him to his -own camp, which was very near, but that would make it uncommonly -embarrassing for me. I explained the difficulty to him. - -“That’s so,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t want you to get yourself -into trouble in order to get me out of it.” - -“What’s your name?” I asked. - -“Hume. Ensign William Hume,” he replied. - -“You’re too young to die, Hume,” I said, “and I promise not to leave -you until you are in safety.” - -“I’ll do the same for you,” he said, “if ever I find you lying on a -hillside with a bullet hole through both your thighs.” - -I sat down on the grass beside him, and gave him something strong out -of a little flask that I carried in an inside pocket. He drank it with -eagerness and gratitude and grew cheerful. - -I thought a few moments, and my idea came to me, as good ideas -sometimes do. As he could neither walk nor shout, it behooved me to do -both for him. Telling him my plan, of which he approved most heartily, -as he ought to have done, I lifted him in my arms and walked toward the -British camp. He was a heavy load and my breath grew hard. - -We were almost within reach of the firelight, and yet we were not -noticed by any of the British, who, I suppose, were absorbed in their -preparations. We came to a newly cut tree, intended probably for use in -the British fortifications. I put Ensign Hume upon this tree with his -back supported against an upthrust bough. - -“Now, don’t forget, when they come,” I said. “to tell them you managed -to crawl to this tree and shout for help. That will prevent any -pursuit of me.” - -He promised, and shook hands with as strong a grip as he could, for he -was yet weak. Then I stepped back a few paces behind him, and shouted: - -“Help, help, comrades! Help! help!” - -Figures advanced from the firelight, and I glided away without noise. -From my covert in the darkness I could see them lift Hume from the tree -and carry him into his own camp. Then I went farther away, feeling glad. - -It was my intent to rejoin Whitestone and the soldiers, and in truth I -went back part of the way, but the British camp had a great attraction -for me. I was curious to see, as far as I could, what might be going -on in its outskirts. I also encouraged myself with the thought that I -might acquire information of value. - -Thus gazing about with no certain purpose, I saw a figure coming toward -me. One of our sharpshooters or spies returning from explorations, was -my first thought. But this thought quickly yielded to another, in which -wonderment was mingled to a marked extent. That figure was familiar. I -had seen that swing, that manner, before. - -My wonderment increased, and I decided to observe closely. I stepped -farther aside that I might not be seen, of which, however, there was -but small chance, so long as I sought concealment. - -The figure veered a little from me, choosing a course where the night -lay thickest. I was unable to make up my mind about it. Once I had -taken another figure that looked like it for Albert, and once I had -taken it for Albert’s sister, and each time I had been wrong. Now I had -my choice, and also the results of experience, and remained perplexed. - -I resolved to follow. There might be mischief afoot. Albert was quite -capable of it, if Albert’s sister was not. The figure proceeded toward -our post, where I had left Whitestone in command for the time being. I -fell in behind, preserving a convenient distance between us. - -Ahead of us I saw a spark of fire, tiny but distinct. I knew very well -that it was the light of Whitestone’s pipe. I expected the figure -that I was following to turn aside, but it did not. Instead, after -a moment’s pause, as if for examination, it went straight on toward -the spark of light. I continued to follow. Whitestone was alone. The -soldiers were not visible. I suppose they were farther back. - -The gallant sergeant raised his rifle at sight of the approaching -figure, but dropped it when he perceived that nothing hostile was -intended. - -“Good evening, Miss Van Auken,” he said most politely. “Have you come -to surrender?” - -“No,” replied Kate, “but to make inquiries, sergeant, if you would be -so kind as to answer them.” - -“If it’s not against my duty,” replied Whitestone, with no abatement of -his courtesy. - -“I wanted to know if all my friends had escaped unhurt from the -battle,” she said. “I was going to ask about you first, sergeant, but I -see that it is not necessary.” - -“What others?” said the sergeant. - -“Well, there’s Mr. Shelby,” she said. “Albert said he saw him in that -fearful charge, the tumult of which frightened us so much.” - -“Oh, Mr. Shelby’s all right, ma’am,” replied the sergeant. “The fact -is, he’s in command of this very post, and he’s scouting about here -somewhere now. Any others, ma’am, you wish to ask about?” - -“I don’t recall any just now,” she said, “and I suppose I ought to go -back, or you might be compelled to arrest me as a spy, or something of -that kind.” - -The sergeant made another deep bow. Whitestone always thought he had -fine manners. Kate began her return. She did not see me, for I had -stepped aside. But I was very glad that I had seen her. I watched her -until she re-entered the British camp. - -When I rejoined Whitestone he assured me that nothing whatever had -happened in my absence, and, besides the men of our immediate command, -he had not seen a soul of either army. I did not dispute his word, for -I was satisfied. - -All night long the bustle continued in Burgoyne’s camp, and there was -no doubt of its meaning. Burgoyne would retreat on the morrow, in a -desperate attempt to gain time, hoping always that Clinton would come. -The next day this certainty was fulfilled. The British army drew off, -and we followed in overwhelming force, content, so our generals seemed, -to wait for the prize without shedding blood in another pitched battle. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -WE RIDE SOUTHWARD. - - -But it is not sufficient merely to win a battle. One must do more, -especially when another hostile army is approaching and one does not -know how near that army is, or how much nearer it will be. - -It was such a trouble as this that afflicted our generals after the -morning of the great victory. That other British army down the river -bothered them. They wanted exact information about Clinton, and my -colonel sent for me. - -“Mr. Shelby,” he said, “take the best horse you can find in the -regiment, ride with all haste to Albany, and farther south, if -necessary, find out all you can about Clinton, and gallop back to us -with the news. It is an important and perhaps a dangerous duty, but I -think you are a good man for it, and if you succeed, those much higher -in rank than I am will thank you.” - -I felt flattered, but I did not allow myself to be overwhelmed. - -“Colonel,” I said, “let me take Sergeant Whitestone with me; then, if -one of us should fall, the other can complete the errand.” - -But I did not have the possible fall of either of us in mind. -Whitestone and I understand each other, and he is good company. -Moreover, the sergeant is a handy man to have about in an emergency. - -The colonel consented promptly. - -“It is a good idea,” he said. “I should have thought of it myself.” - -But then colonels don’t always think of everything. - -Whitestone was very willing. - -“I don’t think anything will happen here before we get back,” he said, -looking off in the direction of Burgoyne’s army. - -In a half hour, good horses under us, we were galloping southward. We -expected to reach Albany in four hours. - -For a half hour we rode along, chiefly in silence, each occupied with -his own thoughts. Then I saw Whitestone fumbling in the inside pocket -of his waistcoat, and I knew that the pipe was coming. He performed -the feat of lighting it and smoking it without diminishing speed, and -looked at me triumphantly. I said nothing, knowing that no reply was -needed. - -My thoughts--and it was no trespass upon my soldierhood--were -elsewhere. I hold that I am not a sentimental fellow, but in the -ride to Albany I often saw the face of Kate Van Auken--Mrs. Captain -Chudleigh that was to be--a girl who was nothing to me, of course. Yet -I was glad that she was not a Tory and traitor, and I hoped Chudleigh -would prove to be the right sort of man. - -“I’ll be bound you’re thinking of some girl,” said Whitestone suddenly, -as he took his pipe from his mouth and held the stem judicially between -his thumb and forefinger. - -“Why?” I asked. - -“You look up at the sky, and not ahead of you; you sigh, and you’re -young,” replied Whitestone. - -But I swore that I was not thinking of any girl, and with all the more -emphasis because I was. Whitestone was considerate, however, and said -nothing more on the subject. Within the time set for ourselves we -reached Albany. - -Albany, as all the world knows, is an important town of Dutchmen. It is -built on top of a hill, down a steep hillside, and then into a bottom -by the river, which sometimes rises without an invitation from the -Dutchmen and washes out the houses in the bottom. I have heard that -many of these Dutchmen are not real Dutchmen, but have more English -blood in them. It is not a matter, however, that I care to argue, as it -is no business of mine what hobby horse one may choose to ride hard. -All I know is that these Albany Dutchmen are wide of girth and can -fight well, which is sufficient for the times. - -Whitestone and I rode along looking at the queer houses with their -gable ends to the street. We could see that the town was in a great -flurry, as it had a good right to be, with our army and Burgoyne’s -above it and Clinton’s below it, and nobody knowing what was about to -happen. - -“We must gather up the gossip of the town first,” I said to Whitestone. -“No doubt much of it will be false and more of it exaggerated, but it -will serve as an indication and tell us how to set about our work.” - -“Then here’s the place for us to begin gathering,” said Whitestone, -pointing to a low frame building through the open door of which many -voices and some strong odors of liquor came. Evidently it was a -drinking tavern, and I knew Whitestone was right when he said it was a -good place in which to collect rumors. - -We dismounted, hitched our horses to posts, and entered. As plenty of -American soldiers were about the town, we had no fear that our uniforms -would attract special attention. In truth we saw several uniforms like -ours in the room, which was well crowded with an assemblage most mixed -and noisy. Whitestone and I each ordered a glass of the Albany whisky -tempered with water, and found it to be not bad after a long and weary -ride. I have observed that a good toddy cuts the dust out of one’s -throat in excellent fashion. Feeling better we stood around with the -others and listened to the talk, of which there was no lack. In truth, -some of it was very strange and remarkable. - -The news of our great battle had reached the Albany people, but in a -vague and contrary fashion, and we found that we had beaten Burgoyne; -that Burgoyne had beaten us; that Burgoyne was fleeing with all speed -toward Canada; that he would be in Albany before night. Those who know -always feel so superior to those who don’t know that Whitestone and I -were in a state of great satisfaction. - -But the conversation soon turned from Burgoyne to Clinton, and then -Whitestone and I grew eager. Our eagerness turned to alarm, for we -heard that Clinton, with a great fleet and a great army, was pressing -toward Albany with all haste. - -Good cause for alarm was this, and, however much it might be -exaggerated, we had no doubt that the gist of it was the truth. - -I made a sign to Whitestone, and we slipped quietly out of the tavern, -not wishing to draw any notice to ourselves. Despite our caution, two -men followed us outside. I had observed one of these men looking at -me in the tavern, but he had turned his eyes away when mine met his. -Outside he came up to me and said boldly, though in a low voice: - -“Have you come from the south?” - -“No,” I said carelessly, thinking to turn him off. - -“Then you have come from the north, from the battlefield,” he said in a -tone of conviction. - -“What makes you think so?” I asked, annoyed. - -“You and your companion are covered with dust and your horses with -perspiration,” he replied, “and you have ridden far and hard.” - -I could not guess the man’s purpose, but I took him and the others -with him to be Tories, spies of the British, who must be numerous -about Albany. I do not like to confess it, but it is true that in our -province of New York the Tories were about as many as, perhaps more -than, the patriots. We might denounce the men, but we had no proof at -all against them. Moreover, we could not afford to get into a wrangle -on such a mission as ours. - -“You were at the battle,” said the man shrewdly, “and you have come in -all haste to Albany.” - -“Well, what if we were?” I said in some heat. His interference and -impertinence were enough to make me angry. - -“But I did not say from which army you came,” he said, assuming an air -of great acuteness and knowledge. - -I was in doubt. Did the man take us for Tory spies--I grew angrier -still at the thought--or was he merely trying to draw us on to the -telling of what he knew? While I hesitated, he added: - -“I know that Burgoyne held his own in a severe battle fought yesterday. -That is no news to you. But if you go about the town a little, you will -also know what I know, that Clinton, in overwhelming force, will soon -be at Albany.” - -I was convinced now that the man was trying to draw from me the facts -about the battle, and I believed more than ever that he and his -comrades were Tory spies. I regretted that Whitestone and I had not -removed the dust of travel before we entered the tavern. I regretted -also that so many of our countrymen should prove faithless to us. It -would have been far easier for us had we only the British and the hired -Hessians to fight. - -Whitestone was leaning against his horse, bridle in hand, looking at -the solitary cloud that the sky contained. Apparently the sergeant was -off in dreams, but I knew he was listening intently. He let his eyes -fall, and when they met mine, he said, very simply and carelessly: - -“I think we’d better go.” - -As I said, the sergeant is a very handy man to have about in an -emergency. His solution was the simplest in the world--merely to ride -away from the men and leave them. - -We mounted our horses. - -“Good day, gentlemen,” we said. - -“Good day,” they replied. - -Then we left them, and when I looked back, at our first turning, they -were still standing at the door of the tavern. But I gave them little -further thought, for Clinton and his advancing fleet and army must now -receive the whole attention of the sergeant and myself. - -It was obvious that we must leave Albany, go down the river, and get -exact news about the British. It was easy enough for us to pass out of -the town and continue our journey. We had been provided with the proper -papers in case of trouble. - -We had given our horses rest and food in Albany, and rode at a good -pace for an hour. Not far away we could see the Hudson, a great ribbon -of silver or gray, as sunshine or cloud fell upon it. I was occupied -with the beauty of the scene, when Whitestone called my attention and -pointed ahead. Fifty yards away, and in the middle of the road, stood -two horsemen motionless. They seemed to be planted there as guards, yet -they wore no uniforms. - -I felt some anxiety, but reflected that the horsemen must be countrymen -waiting, through curiosity or friendship, for approaching travelers in -such troublous times. But as we rode nearer I saw that I was mistaken. - -“Our inquiring friends of the tavern,” said Whitestone. - -He spoke the truth. I recognized them readily. When we were within -fifteen feet they drew their horses across the way, blocking it. - -“What does this mean, gentlemen? Why do you stop us?” I asked. - -“We are an American patrol,” replied the foremost of the two, the one -who had questioned me at the tavern, “and we can not let anybody pass -here. It is against our orders.” - -Both wore ragged Continental coats, which I suppose they had brought -out of some recess before they started on the circuit ahead of us. - -I signed to Whitestone to keep silent, and rode up close to the leader. - -“We ought to understand each other,” I said, speaking in a confident -and confidential tone. - -“What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously. - -I burst out laughing, as if I were enjoying the best joke in the world. - -“I hate rebels,” I said, leaning over and tapping him familiarly on the -shoulder with my finger. - -“I don’t understand you,” he said. - -“I mean that you hate rebels too,” I replied, “and that you are just as -much of a rebel as I am.” - -“Hi should think so! Hi could tell by the look hof their countenances -that they are hof the right sort,” broke in Whitestone, dropping every -h where it belonged and putting on every one where it did not belong. - -It was Whitestone’s first and last appearance on any occasion as an -Englishman, but it was most successful. - -A look of intelligence appeared on the faces of the two men. - -“Of Bayle’s regiment in Burgoyne’s army, both of us,” I said. - -“I thought it, back yonder in Albany,” said the leader, “but why did -you fence us off so?” - -“One doesn’t always know his friends, first glance, especially in rebel -towns,” I said. “Like you, I thought so, but I couldn’t take the risk -and declare myself until I knew more about you.” - -“That’s true,” he acknowledged. “These rebels are so cursedly sly.” - -“Very, very sly,” I said, “but we’ve fooled ’em this time.” - -I pointed to their Continental coats and to ours. Then we laughed all -together. - -“Tell me what really happened up there,” said the man. - -“It was a great battle,” I said, “but we drove them off the field, and -we can take care of ourselves. Six thousand British and German veterans -care little for all the raw militia this country can raise.” - -“That’s so,” he said. We laughed again, all together. - -“How is everything down there?” I asked, nodding my head toward the -south. - -“Clinton’s coming with a strong fleet and five thousand men,” he -replied. “What they say in the town is all true.” - -“Small thanks he will get from Burgoyne,” I said. “Our general will -like it but little when Clinton comes to strip him of part of his -glory.” - -“I suppose you are right,” he answered, “but I did not think Burgoyne -was finding his way so easy. I understood that the first battle at -Saratoga stopped him.” - -“Don’t you trouble yourself about Burgoyne,” I said. “If he stopped, he -stopped for ample reasons.” - -Which was no lie. - -“But we must hasten,” I continued. “Our messages to Clinton will bear -no delay.” - -“Luck with you,” they said. - -“Luck with you,” we replied, waving our hands in friendly salute as we -rode away, still to the south. - -Whether they ever found out the truth I do not know, for I never saw or -heard of either again. - -We continued our journey in silence for some time. Whitestone looked -melancholy. - -“What is the matter?” I asked. - -“It was too easy,” he replied. “I always pity fools.” - -He lighted his pipe and sought consolation. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -WE MEET THE FLEET. - - -The night soon came and was very dark. We were compelled to stop for -rest and for food, which we found at a farmer’s house. But we were -satisfied with our day’s work. We had started, and with the appearance -of fact too, the report that Burgoyne had beaten us in pitched battle. -We knew the report would be carried far and wide, and Clinton would -think haste was not needed. Let me repeat that to win a battle is not -to win a campaign, and I hold no general’s commission either. - -In the morning we met a few countrymen in a state of much fright. -“Clinton is coming!” was all that we could get from them. We thought -it more than likely that Clinton was coming in truth, since all the -reports said he and his ships ought to be very near now. - -“The river is the place to look,” said Whitestone. - -We turned our horses that way, and in a few minutes stood upon its high -banks. - -“See,” said Whitestone, pointing a long arm and an outstretched finger. - -I saw, and I saw, moreover, that our search was ended. Far down the -river was the British fleet, a line of white specks upon the silver -bosom of the water. We could scarce trace hull or sail or mast, but -ships they were without mistake, and British ships they must be, since -we had none. It was not a pleasant sight for us, but it would have -rejoiced the heart of Burgoyne had he been there to see. - -We knew that Clinton must have several thousand men either on board -the fleet or not far below, and we knew also that with such a strong -force nothing could prevent his speedy arrival at Albany if he chose to -hasten. I knew not what to do. Ought we to go back at once to our army -with the news of what we had seen, or ought we to stay and find out -more? On one side was time saved, and on the other better information. -I put it to Whitestone, but he was as uncertain as I. - -Meanwhile the fleet grew under the horizon of the river. We could trace -masts and spars, and see the sails as they filled out with the wind. -The little black figures on the decks were men. - -A quarter of a mile or more below us we saw a rocky projection into -the river. I proposed to Whitestone that we ride at least that far and -decide afterward on further action. - -We rode rapidly, but before we were halfway to the place we met men -running--frightened men at that. Their condition of mind showed plainly -on their faces. They wore militia uniforms, and we knew them to be -some of our citizen soldiery, who are sometimes a very speedy lot, -not being trained to the military business. We tried to stop them and -find out why they were running and whence they came; but all we could -get out of them was, “The British are coming, with a hundred ships and -forty thousand men!” At last, half by persuasion and half by force, -we induced one man to halt; he explained that he had been sent with -the others to man a battery of four guns on the point. When they saw -the British fleet coming, some of the raw militia had taken fright and -fled, carrying the others with them. - -“But the ships may not be here for an hour,” I protested. - -“So much the better,” he said, “for it gives us the more time.” - -We released him, and he followed his flying comrades. Whitestone and I -looked ruefully after them, but I suggested that we continue our ride -to the point. Even with the ships abreast us in the river, it would be -easy for us to ride away and escape the British. We rode as rapidly as -the ground would allow, and soon reached the point and the deserted -battery. - -I could have sworn with vexation at the flight of our militia. It was -a pretty battery, well planted, four trim eighteen pounders, plenty of -powder, shot neatly piled, and a flag still flying from a tall pole. -Whoever selected the place for the battery knew his business--which -does not always happen in the military life. I looked again in the -direction of the fleeing militia, but the back of the last man had -disappeared. - -“What a pity!” I said regretfully to Whitestone. “At least they might -have trimmed the rigging a little for those British ships down yonder.” - -“I don’t understand one thing,” said Whitestone. - -“What is it?” I asked. - -He took his pipe from his mouth and tapped the bowl of it significantly -with the index finger of his left hand. - -“I can smoke that pipe, can’t I?” he asked. - -“I should think so!” - -“So could you if you had a chance, couldn’t you?” - -“Certainly.” - -“Those men who ran away could fire a cannon; so could----” - -“Do you mean it, Whitestone?” I asked, the blood flying to my head at -the thought. - -“Mean it? I should think I did,” he replied. “I used to be in the -artillery, and I can handle a cannon pretty well. So can you, I think. -Here are the cannon, there’s ammunition a-plenty, and over us flies the -brand-new flag. What more do you want?” - -He replaced his pipe in his mouth, sat down on the breech of a gun, and -gave himself up to content. I looked at him in admiration. I approve of -so many of Whitestone’s ideas, and I liked few better than this. I was -young. - -“Good enough, Whitestone,” I said. “I, as commander, indorse the -suggestion of my chief assistant.” - -We took our horses out of the range of the guns on the ships and -fastened them securely, as we were thinking of our future needs. Then -we came back to our battery. Evidently the original defenders had -desired the battery to appear very formidable, for in addition to their -real guns they had planted eight Quaker guns, which, seen from the -center of the river, would look very threatening, I had no doubt. The -four guns, genuine and true, were charged almost to the muzzle. - -“I think they have seen us,” said Whitestone, pointing to the ships. - -It was a strong fleet--frigates and sloops. It was plain that they had -seen us and had not been expecting us, for the ships were taking in -sail and hovering about in an uncertain way. Officers in gilt and gold -stood on their decks watching us through glasses. - -“Keep down, Whitestone,” I said. “We must not give them any hint as to -the size of our force.” - -“But I think we ought to give ’em a hint that we’re loaded for bear,” -said Whitestone. “What do you say to a shot at the nearest frigate, Mr. -Shelby. I think she is within long range.” - -I approved, and Whitestone fired. In the stillness of a country morning -the report was frightfully distinct, and the echo doubling upon and -repeating itself seemed to travel both up and down the river. The -shot was well aimed. It smashed right into the frigate, and there was -confusion on her decks. I fired the second gun, and down came some -spars and rigging on the same ship. Whitestone rubbed his hands in -glee. I shouted to him to lie close, and obeyed my own command as -promptly as he. The frigate was about to return our salute. - -She swung around and let us have a broadside, which did great damage to -the rocks and the shore. But Whitestone and I remained cozy and safe. A -large sloop came up closer than the frigate and fired a volley, which -sailed peacefully over our heads and made a prodigious disturbance -among the trees beyond us. - -“Can you get at that third gun, Whitestone?” - -“Nothing easier!” - -“Then give that spiteful sloop a shot. Teach her it isn’t safe for a -sloop to come where a frigate can’t stay.” - -Whitestone obeyed, and his shot was most glorious. The chunk of lead -struck the sloop between wind and water and must have gone right -through her, for presently she began to sheer off, the signs of -distress visible all over her, as if she were taking in water at the -rate of a thousand gallons a minute. I clapped Whitestone on the back -and shouted “Hurrah!” - -But our lucky shot had stirred up the full wrath of the fleet. The -ships formed in line of battle and opened their batteries on us, firing -sometimes one after the other, and sometimes nearly all together. I -dare say the cliffs of the Hudson, in all their long existence, have -never received such another furious bombardment. Oh, it was a bad day -for the trees and the bushes and the rocks, which were beaten and -battered and cut and crushed by eighteen-pound shot and twelve-pound -shot and six-pound shot, and the Lord knows what, until the river -itself fell into a rage and began to lash its waters into a turmoil! - -But Whitestone and I, with all this infernal uproar around us, lay -in our brave earthworks as snug and cozy as chipmunks, and laughed to -think that we were the cause of it all. I rolled over to Whitestone and -shouted in his ear: - -“As soon as the eruption diminishes a little we will try a fourth shot -at them!” - -He grinned, and both of us embraced the earth for some minutes longer. -Then the fire of the enemy began to abate. We took the first chance to -peep out at them, but the volume of smoke over the river was so great -and so dense that we could see the ships but indistinctly. - -As for ourselves, we had suffered little. One of our guns was -dismounted, but it was a Quaker, and no harm was done. The fire dying, -the clouds of smoke began to float away and the ships were disclosed. -Whitestone and I, peeping over our earthworks, beheld a scene of great -animation and excitement. The British were working hard; there was no -doubt of it. The bustle on the decks was tremendous. Officers were -shouting to men and to each other; men were reloading cannon and making -every preparation to renew the bombardment when their officers might -order it. One frigate had come too near, and was grounded slightly in -shallowing water. Her crew were making gigantic efforts to get her off -before our terrible battery could blow her to pieces. - -The captains were using their glasses to see what was left of us, and I -could guess their chagrin when they beheld us looking as formidable and -as whole as ever, barring the dismounted Quaker. Our escape from injury -was not so wonderful after all. We defenders were only two, and we made -a very small target; while if the battery had been crowded with men the -death rate would have been prodigious. - -“There goes the frigate!” I cried. “They’ve got her off! Give her a -good-by as she goes, Whitestone!” - -He was lying next to the fourth gun, and he instantly sent a shot -smashing into the vessel. But the shot was like a veritable torch to -a powder magazine, for the fleet attacked us again with every gun it -could bring to bear. The first bombardment seemed to have aroused -fresh spirit and energy for the second, and Whitestone and I, taking -no chances with peeps, thrust our fingers into our ears and our heads -into the ground. - -But we could not keep out the heavy crash-crash of the volleys, -blending now and then into a continuous roar, which the river and -the horizon took up and repeated. King George must have had a pretty -powder-and-shot bill to pay for that day’s work. - -The clouds of smoke gathered in a vast black canopy over river and -ships, shore and battery. Under and through it appeared now and then -the dark lines of spars and ropes, and always the blazing flash of -many great guns. If the stony shores of the Hudson did not suffer -most grievously, let it not be charged against the British, for they -displayed a spirit and energy, if not a marksmanship, worthy of their -reputation. - -I rejoiced at the vigor of their fire. Its volume was so great, and -they must be working so hard, that they could not know the battery was -making no answer. - -By and by the cannoneers waxed weary of loading and firing, and -the officers of giving orders. The crash of the great guns became -more infrequent. The flash of the powder bore less resemblance to -continuous lightning. The smoke began to drift away. Then the defenders -of the battery rose up in their courage and strength, reloaded their -guns, and opened fire on the fleet. - -I love to think that the British were surprised most unpleasantly. -Their fire was waning, but ours was not, it seemed to them. The -mischievous little battery was still there, and they had neither -reduced it nor passed it. It was mirth to us to think how easily they -could pass us, and yet preferred to reduce us. - -“By all that’s glorious,” exclaimed Whitestone, “they’re retreating!” - -It was so. The ships were hauling off, whether to refit for another -attack or to consult for future action we did not know. We gave them a -few shots as they drew away, and presently they anchored out of range. -Boats were launched, and men in gold-laced caps and coats were rowed to -the largest frigate. - -“The admiral has called a conference, I guess,” I said to Whitestone. - -He nodded, and we inspected our battery to see how it had stood the -second bombardment. Two more Quaker guns were dismounted, but one -of them we were able to put again into fairly presentable condition. -That done, we took some refreshment from our knapsacks, and awaited -in calmness the next movement of our enemies. As it was, we flattered -ourselves that we had made a gallant fight. - -We waited a half hour, and then a boat put out from the big frigate. -Besides the oarsmen, it contained a richly dressed officer and a white -flag. They came directly toward us. - -“A flag of truce and a conference,” I said. “Shall we condescend, -Whitestone?” - -“Oh, yes,” replied Whitestone. “We ought to hear what they have to say.” - -“Then you remain in command of the battery,” I said, “and I will meet -the officer.” - -I scrambled down the high cliff to the water’s edge and awaited the -boat, which I was determined should not come too near. When it came -within speaking distance, I hailed the officer and ordered him to stop. - -“I am Captain Middleton,” he called, “and I am commissioned by our -commander to speak to your commander.” - -“General Arnold saw you coming,” I said, “and sent me to meet you and -hear what you have to say.” - -“General Arnold!” he exclaimed in surprise. - -“Yes, General Arnold, the commander of our battery,” I replied. - -I mentioned General Arnold because of his great reputation then as a -fighting general. And a fighting general he was, too; I will say it, -traitor though he afterward proved to be. - -“I thought General Arnold was with Gates,” said the officer. - -“Oh, they quarreled,” I replied airily, which was the truth, “and -General Arnold, being relieved of his command up there, has come down -here to fight this battery. You have seen for yourself that he knows -how to do it.” - -“It is true,” he said, “your fire was very warm.” - -He looked up at the battery, but I would not let him come within fifty -feet of the shore, and he could see nothing save the earthworks and -some of the gun muzzles. - -“It can be made warmer,” I said confidently, not boastingly. - -“I have come to summon you to surrender,” he said. “We will offer you -good terms.” - -“Surrender!” I laughed in scorn. “Why, my dear captain, you have made -no impression upon us yet, while we have scarred your ships a bit.” - -“That is a fact,” he said. “You have handled your eighteen-pounders -well.” - -“Twenty-four pounders,” I corrected. - -“I did not know they were so heavy,” he said. “That accounts for the -strength of your fire.” - -He seemed pleased at the discovery. It made an excuse for his side. - -“No doubt General Arnold can do something with a battery of twelve -twenty-four pounders,” he began. - -“Eighteen twenty-four pounders,” I corrected. “You can not see all the -muzzles.” - -He looked very thoughtful. I knew that he was impressed by the -exceeding strength of our battery. - -“But about the proposition to surrender,” he began. - -“I will not take such an offer to General Arnold,” I exclaimed -indignantly. “In fact, I have my instructions from him. He’ll sink -every ship you have, or be blown to pieces himself.” - -Captain Middleton, after this emphatic declaration, which I am sure I -made in a most convincing manner, seemed to think further talk would be -a waste, and gave the word to his oarsmen to pull back to his ship. - -“Good day,” he said very courteously. - -“Good day,” said I with equal courtesy. Then I climbed back up -the cliff and re-enforced the garrison. I watched Middleton as he -approached the flagship. He mounted to the deck and the officers -crowded around him. In a half hour the ships bore up again, formed -line of battle, and opened upon us a third terrific bombardment, which -we endured with the same calmness and success. When they grew tired -we gave them a few shots, which did some execution, and then, to our -infinite delight, they slipped their cables and fell back down the -river. - -“When they find out what we really are they’ll come again to-morrow and -blow us to splinters,” said Whitestone. - -“Yes, but we’ll be far away from here then,” said I, “and we may have -held them back a day at least. Why, man, even an hour is worth much to -our army up yonder!” - -We were in a state of supreme satisfaction, also in a state of hurry. -There was nothing more for us to do in the south, and it was our -business to hasten northward with the news we had. I rejoiced greatly. -I hoped that Clinton would continue to fiddle his time away below -Albany, impressed by the risks he was taking, thanks to our brave -battery. - -We found our horses nearly dead from fright, but a few kicks restored -life, and we rode northward in all haste. At Albany we changed horses, -evaded questions, and resumed our ride. In the night we reached our -own camp, and as soon as we had reported sought the rest we needed so -badly, and, I think, deserved so well. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -THE PURSUIT OF CHUDLEIGH. - - -Having returned, I expected to share in the pursuit of Burgoyne, -and wondered to what particular duty I would be assigned. But a man -never knows at seven o’clock what he will be doing at eight o’clock, -and before eight o’clock had come I was called by the colonel of our -regiment. - -“Mr. Shelby,” he said, “you have already shown yourself intelligent and -vigilant on important service.” - -I listened, feeling sure that I was going to have something very -disagreeable to do. You can depend upon it when your superior begins -with formal flattery. I had just finished one important task, but the -more you do the more people expect of you. - -“One of our prisoners has escaped,” he said; “a keen-witted man who -knows the country. He has escaped to the south. As you know so well, -Sir Henry Clinton is, or has been, advancing up the Hudson with a -strong force to the aid of Burgoyne, whom nothing else can save from -us. This man--this prisoner who has escaped--must not be permitted -to reach Clinton with the news that Burgoyne is almost done for. It -was important before the last battle that no messenger from Burgoyne -should pass through our lines; it is still more important to-day. You -understand?” - -I bowed, as a sign that I understood. - -“This escaped prisoner knows everything that has happened,” he resumed, -“and he must be overtaken. He will probably follow the direct road -along the river, as he knows that haste is necessary. How many men do -you want?” - -I named Whitestone and a private, a strong, ready-witted fellow named -Adams. - -“What is the name of the man we are to capture?” I asked. - -“Chudleigh--Captain Ralph Chudleigh,” he replied. “A tall man, dark -hair and eyes, twenty-six to twenty-eight years of age. Do you know -him?” - -I replied that I knew him. - -“So much the better,” said our colonel with much delight. “Aside from -your other qualifications, Mr. Shelby, you are the man of all men for -this duty. Chudleigh will undoubtedly attempt to disguise himself, but -since you know him so well he can scarce hide his face from you. But -remember that he must be taken, dead or alive.” - -I had not much relish for the mission in the first place, and, for -reasons, less relish when I knew that Chudleigh was the man whom I was -to take. But in such affairs as these it is permitted to the soldier to -choose only the one thing, and that is, to obey. - -We set out at once over the same road we had traveled twice so -recently. Three good horses had been furnished us, and we were well -armed. For a while we rode southward with much speed, and soon left -behind us the last detachment of our beleaguering army. - -One question perplexed me: Would Chudleigh be in his own British -uniform, which he wore when he escaped, or did he manage to take away -with him some rags of Continental attire, in which he would clothe -himself first chance? I could answer it only by watching for all men -of suspicious appearance, no matter the cut or color of their clothing. - -We galloped along a fair road, but we met no one. Quiet travelers shun -ground trodden by armies. It was past the noon hour when we came to a -small house not far from the roadside. We found the farmer who owned -it at home, and in answer to our questions, fairly spoken, he said -three men had passed that day, two going north and one going south, all -dressed as ordinary citizens. I was particularly interested in the one -going south, and asked more about him. - -“He was tall, dark, and young,” said the farmer. “He looked like a man -of small consequence, for his clothing was ragged and his face not -overclean. He wanted food, and he ate with much appetite.” - -I asked if the man had paid for his dinner, and the farmer showed me -silver fresh from the British mint. I could well believe that this was -Chudleigh. However wary and circumspect he might be he was bound to -have food, and he could find it only by going to the houses he saw on -his southern journey. - -I was confirmed in my belief an hour later, when we met a countryman -on foot, who at first evinced a great desire to run away from us, but -who stopped, seeing our uniforms. He explained that he knew not whom -to trust, for a short while before he was riding like ourselves; now -he had no horse; a ragged man meeting him in the road had presented a -pistol at his head and ordered him to give up his horse, which he did -with much promptness, as the man’s finger lay very caressingly upon the -trigger of the pistol. - -“That was Chudleigh without doubt,” I said to Whitestone, “and since he -also is now mounted we must have a race for it.” - -He agreed with me, and we whipped our horses into a gallop again. In -reality I had not much acquaintance with Chudleigh, but I trusted that -I would know his face anywhere. Secure in this belief we pressed on. - -“Unless he’s left the road to hide--and that’s not probable, for he -can’t afford delay--we ought to overhaul him soon,” said Whitestone. - -The road led up and down a series of lightly undulating hills. Just -when we reached one crest we saw the back of a horseman on the -next crest, about a quarter of a mile ahead of us. By a species of -intuition I knew that it was Chudleigh. Aside from my intuition, all -the probabilities indicated Chudleigh, for we had the word of the -dismounted farmer that his lead of us was but short. - -“That’s our man!” exclaimed Whitestone, echoing our thought. - -As if by the same impulse, all three of us clapped spur to horse, and -forward we went at a gallop that sent the wind rushing past us. We -were much too far away for the fugitive to hear the hoof-beats of our -horses, but by chance, I suppose, he happened to look back and saw us -coming at a pace that indicated zeal. I saw him give his mount a great -kick in the side, and the horse bounded forward so promptly that in -thirty seconds the curve of the hill hid both horse and rider from -our view. But that was not a matter discouraging to us. The river was -on one side of us not far away, and on the other cultivated fields -inclosed with fences. Chudleigh could not leave the road unless he -dismounted. He was bound to do one of two things, outgallop us or yield. - -We descended our hill and soon rose upon the slope of Chudleigh’s. -When we reached the crest, we saw him in the hollow beyond urging his -horse to its best speed. He was bent far over upon the animal’s neck, -and occasionally he gave him lusty kicks in the side. It was evident -to us that whatever speed might be in that horse Chudleigh would get -it out of him. And so would I, thought I, if I were in his place. A -fugitive could scarce have more inducement than Chudleigh to escape. - -Measuring the distance with my eye, I concluded that we had gained a -little. I drew from it the inference that we would certainly overtake -him. Moreover, Chudleigh was making the mistake of pushing his horse -too hard at the start. - -It is better to pursue than to be pursued, and a great elation of -spirits seized me. The cool air rushing into my face and past my ears -put bubbles in my blood. - -“This beats watching houses in the night, does it not, Whitestone?” I -said. - -“Aye, truly,” replied the sober sergeant, “unless he has a pistol and -concludes to use it.” - -“We will not fire until he does, or shows intent to do so,” I said. - -Whitestone and Adams nodded assent, and we eased our horses a bit that -we might save their strength and speed. This maneuver enabled the -fugitive to gain slightly upon us, but we felt no alarm; instead we -were encouraged, for his horse was sure to become blown before ours put -forth their best efforts. - -Chudleigh raised up once to look back at us. Of course it was too far -for us to see the expression of his face, but in my imagination anxiety -was plainly writ there. - -“How long a race will it be, do you think?” I asked Whitestone. - -“About four miles,” he said, “unless a stumble upsets our calculations, -and I don’t think we’ll have the latter, for the road looks smooth all -the way.” - -The fugitive began to kick his horse with more frequency, which -indicated increased anxiety. - -“It won’t be four miles,” I said to Whitestone. - -“You’re right,” he replied; “maybe not three.” - -In truth it looked as if Whitestone’s second thought were right. We -began to gain without the necessity of urging our horses. Chudleigh -already had driven his own animal to exhaustion. I doubted if the race -would be a matter of two miles. I wondered why he did not try a shot -at us with his pistols. Bullets are often great checks to the speed of -pursuers, and Chudleigh must have known it. - -At the end of a mile we were gaining so rapidly that we could have -reached the fugitive with a pistol ball, but I was averse to such rude -methods, doubly so since he showed no intent on his own part to resort -to them. - -A half mile ahead of us I saw a small house in a field by the roadside, -but I took no thought of it until Chudleigh reached a parallel point in -the road; then we were surprised to see him leap to the ground, leave -his horse to go where it would, climb the fence, and rush toward the -house. He pushed the door open, ran in, and closed it behind him. - -I concluded that he had given up all hope of escape except through a -desperate defense, and I made hasty disposition of my small command. I -was to approach the house from one side, Whitestone from another, and -Adams from a third. - -We hitched our horses and began our siege of the house, from which no -sound issued. I approached from the front, using a fence as shelter. -When I was within half a pistol shot the door of the house was thrown -open with much force and rudeness, and a large woman, a cocked musket -in her hand and anger on her face, appeared. She saw me, and began to -berate me rapidly and wrathfully, at the same time making threatening -movements with the musket. She cried out that she had small use for -those who were Tories now and Americans then, and robbers and murderers -always. I explained that we were American soldiers in pursuit of an -escaped prisoner of importance who had taken refuge in her house, and -commanded her to stand aside and let us pass. - -For answer she berated me more than ever, saying that it was but a -pretext about a prisoner, and her husband was a better American than -we. That put a most uncomfortable suspicion in my mind, and, summoning -Whitestone, we held parley with her. - -“You have pursued my husband until there is scarce a breath left in his -body,” she said. - -Whereupon, having pacified her to some extent, we went into the house -and found that she spoke the truth. Her husband was stretched upon a -bed quite out of breath, in part from his gallop and more from fright. -We could scarce persuade him that we were not those outlaws who -belonged to neither army but who preyed upon whomsoever they could. - -Making such brief apologies as the time allowed, we mounted our horses -and resumed the search. - -“It was a mistake,” said Whitestone. - -I admitted that he spoke the truth, and resolved I would trust no more -to intuitions, which are sent but to deceive us. - -Anxiety now took me in a strong grip. Our mistaken chase had caused -us to come very fast, and since we saw nothing of Chudleigh, I feared -lest we had passed him in some manner. It therefore cheered me much, a -half hour later, when I saw a stout man, whom I took to be a farmer, -jogging comfortably toward us on a stout nag as comfortable-looking as -himself. He was not like the other, suspicious and afraid, and I was -glad of it, for I said to myself that here was a man of steady habit -and intelligence, a man who would tell us the truth and tell it clearly. - -He came on in most peaceable and assuring fashion, as if not a soldier -were within a thousand miles of him. I hailed him, and he replied with -a pleasant salutation. - -“Have you met a man riding southward?” I said. - -“What kind of a man?” he asked. - -“A large man in citizen’s dress,” I replied. - -“Young, or old?” - -“Young--twenty-six or twenty-eight.” - -“Anything else special about him?” - -“Dark hair and eyes and dark complexion; his horse probably very tired.” - -“What do you want with this man?” he asked, stroking a red whisker with -a contemplative hand. - -“He is an escaped prisoner,” I replied, “and it is of the greatest -importance that we recapture him.” - -“Did you say he was rather young? Looked like he might be six and -twenty or eight and twenty?” he asked. - -“Yes, that is he,” I said eagerly. - -“Tall, rather large?” - -“The very man.” - -“Dark hair and eyes and dark complexion?” - -“Exactly! Exactly!” - -“His horse very tired?” - -“Our man beyond a doubt! Which way did he go?” - -“Gentlemen, I never saw or heard of such a man,” he replied gravely, -laying switch to his horse and riding on. - -We resumed our journey, vexation keeping us silent for some time. - -“Our second mistake,” said Whitestone at length. - -As I did not answer, he added: - -“But the third time means luck.” - -“I doubt it,” I replied. My disbelief in signs and omens was confirmed -by the failure of my intuition. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE TAKING OF CHUDLEIGH. - - -We were forced to ride with some slowness owing to the blown condition -of our horses, and anxiety began to gnaw me to the marrow. We had come -so fast that the time to overtake Chudleigh, if in truth we had not -passed him already, had arrived. In such calculations I was interrupted -by the sight of a loose horse in the road, saddled and bridled, but -riderless. He was in a lather, like ours, and I guessed at once that -this was the horse Chudleigh had taken. In some manner--perhaps he had -seen us, though unseen himself--he had learned that he was pursued -hotly, and, fearing to be overtaken, had abandoned his horse and taken -to the woods and fields. Such at least was my guess. - -I esteemed it great good luck when I saw a man standing in the edge -of a cornfield staring at us. He was a common-looking fellow with a -dirty face. Stupid, I thought, but perhaps he has seen what happened -here and can tell me. I hailed him, and he answered in a thick voice, -though not unfriendly. I asked him about the horse, and if he knew who -had abandoned him there. He answered with that degree of excitement a -plowboy would most likely show on such occasions that he was just going -to tell us about it. I bade him haste with his narration. - -He said, with thick, excited tongue, that a man had come along the road -urging his horse into a gallop. When they reached the field the horse -broke down and would go no farther. The rider, after belaboring him in -vain, leaped down, and, leaving the horse to care for himself, turned -from the road. - -This news excited Whitestone, Adams, and me. It was confirmation of our -suspicions, and proof also that we were pressing Chudleigh hard. - -“How long ago was that?” I asked. - -“Not five minutes,” replied the plowman. - -“Which way did he go?” I asked, my excitement increasing. - -“He took the side road yonder,” replied the plowman. - -“What road?” exclaimed Whitestone, breaking in. - -“The road that leads off to the right--yonder, at the end of the field.” - -I was about to set off in a gallop, but it occurred to me as a happy -thought that this fellow, knowing the country so well, would be useful -as a guide. I ordered him to get on the loose horse, now somewhat -rested, and lead the way. He demurred. But it was no time to be -squeamish or overpolite, so I drew my pistol and warned him. Thereupon -he showed himself a man of judgment and mounted, and taking the lead -of us, obedient to my command, also showed himself to be a very fair -horseman. - -In a few seconds we entered the diverging road, which was narrow, -scarce more than a path. It led between two fields, and then through -some thin woods. - -“You are military folks,” said our guide, turning a look upon me. “Is -the man you are after a deserter?” - -“No,” said I, “a spy.” - -“If you overtake him and he fights, I don’t have any part in it,” he -said. - -“You needn’t risk your skin,” I said. “It is enough for you to guide -us.” - -I laughed a bit at his cowardice; but after all I had no right to -laugh. It was no business of his to do our fighting for us. - -“Perhaps he has turned into these woods,” said Whitestone. - -“No, he has gone on,” said our guide, “I can see his footsteps in the -dust.” - -Traces like those of human footsteps were in truth visible in the dust, -but we had no time to stop for examination. We rode on, watching the -country on either side of the road. The heat and animation of the chase -seemed to affect our guide, heavy plowman though he was. - -“There go his tracks still!” he cried. “See, by the edge of the road, -by the grass there?” - -“We’ll catch him in five minutes!” cried Adams, full of enthusiasm. - -Our guide was ten feet in front of me, leaning over and looking about -with much eagerness. A curve in the road two or three hundred yards -ahead became visible. Suddenly I noticed an increase of excitement in -the expression of our guide. - -“I see him! I see him!” he cried. - -“Where? Where?” I shouted. - -“Yonder! yonder! Don’t you see, just turning the curve in the road? -There! He has seen us too, and is drawing a pistol. Gentlemen, remember -your agreement: I’m not to do any of the fighting. I will fall back.” - -“All right!” I cried. “You’ve done your share of the business. Drop -back.--Forward, Whitestone! We’ve got our man now!” - -In a high state of excitement we whipped our horses forward, paying -no further attention to the plowman, for whom in truth we had use no -longer. Our horses seemed to share our zeal, and recalled their waning -strength and spirits. Forward we went at a fine pace, all three of us -straining our eyes to catch the first glimpse of the fugitive when we -should turn the curve around the hill. - -“Two to one I beat you, Whitestone!” I said. - -“Then you’ll have to push your horse more,” said the sergeant, whose -mount was neck and neck with mine. - -In truth it looked as if he would pass me, but I managed to draw a -supreme effort from my horse and we went ahead a little. However, I -retained the advantage but a few moments. Whitestone crept up again, -and we continued to race neck and neck. Adams, upon whom we had not -counted as a formidable antagonist, overhauled us, though he could not -pass us. - -Thus we three, side by side, swept around the curve, and the command to -the fugitive to halt and surrender was ready upon our lips. - -The turn of the curve brought us into a wide and bare plain, and we -pulled up astonished. Nowhere was a human being visible, and upon that -naked expanse concealment was impossible. - -We stared at each other in amazement, and then in shame. The truth of -the trick struck me like a rifle shot. Why did I wait until he was gone -to remember something familiar in the voice of that plowman, something -known in the expression of that face? I think the truth came to me -first, but before I said anything Whitestone ejaculated: - -“Chudleigh!” - -“Without doubt,” I replied. - -“I told you the third time would not fail,” he said. - -“I wish it had failed,” I exclaimed in wrath and fury, “for he has made -fools of us!” - -We wheeled our horses about as if they turned on pivots and raced back -after the wily plowman. I swore to myself a mighty oath that I would -cease to be certain about the identity of anybody, even of Whitestone -himself. Whitestone swore out loud about a variety of things, and Adams -was equal to his opportunities. - -We were speedily back in the main road. I doubted not that Chudleigh -had hurried on toward the south. In truth he could not afford to do -otherwise, and he would profit as fast as he could by the breathing -space obtained through the trick he had played upon us. I wondered at -the man’s courage and presence of mind, and it was a marvel that we had -not gone much farther on the wrong road before detecting the stratagem. - -The road lay across a level country and we saw nothing of Chudleigh. -Nevertheless we did not spare our weary horses. We were sure he was -not very far ahead, and it was no time for mercy to horseflesh. Yet I -thought of the poor brutes. I said to Whitestone I trusted they would -last. - -“As long as his, perhaps,” replied Whitestone. - -But the truth soon became evident that he was wrong in part. We heard -a great groan, louder than a man can make, and Adams’s horse went down -in a cloud of dust. I pulled up just enough to see that Adams was not -hurt, and to shout to him: - -“Follow us as best you can!” - -Then on we went. Far ahead of us in the road we saw a black speck. -Whether man, beast, or a stump, I could not say, but we hoped it was -Chudleigh. - -“See, it moves!” cried Whitestone. - -Then it was not a stump, and the chance that it was Chudleigh -increased. Soon it became apparent that the black object was not only -moving, but moving almost as fast as we. By and by we could make out -the figure of a man lashing a tired horse. That it was Chudleigh no -longer admitted of doubt. - -“We’ll catch him yet! His trick shall not avail him!” I cried -exultingly to Whitestone. - -The wise sergeant kept silent and saved his breath. I looked back once -and saw a man running after us, though far away. I knew it was Adams -following us on foot, faithful to his duty. - -I felt a great shudder running through the horse beneath me, and then -the faithful animal began to reel like a man in liquor. I could have -groaned in disappointment, for I knew these signs betokened exhaustion, -and a promise that the pursuit would be left to Whitestone alone. But -even as my mind formed the thought, Whitestone’s horse fell as Adams’s -had fallen. My own, seeing his last comrade go down, stopped stock -still, and refused to stir another inch under the sharpest goad. - -“What shall we do?” I cried to Whitestone. - -“Follow on foot!” he replied. “His horse must be almost as far gone as -ours!” - -We paused only to snatch our pistols from the holsters, and then on -foot we pierced the trail of dust Chudleigh’s horse had left behind -him. The fine dust crept into eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. I coughed -and spluttered, and just as I was rubbing sight back into my eyes I -heard a joyful cry from Whitestone. I was able to see then through the -dust, and I beheld Chudleigh abandoning his horse and taking to the -woods on foot. - -“It’s a foot race now, and not a horse race!” I said to Whitestone. - -“Yes, and we must still win!” he replied. - -Poor Adams was lost to sight behind us. - -About two hundred yards from the road the woods began. I feared that -if Chudleigh reached these he might elude us, and I pushed myself as I -had pushed my horse. Being long-legged and country bred, I am a fair -runner; in fact, it is a muscular talent upon which I used to pride -myself. The sergeant puffed much at my elbow, but managed to keep his -place. - -I now perceived with much joy that we could outrun Chudleigh. When he -dashed into the woods we had made a very smart gain upon him, and in -truth were too near for him to elude us by doubling or turning in the -undergrowth. Despite the obstacle of the trees and the bushes we were -yet able to keep him in view, and, better acquainted with this sort -of work than he, we gained upon him even more rapidly than before. We -flattered ourselves that we would soon have him. Though it was a heavy -draught upon my breath, I shouted with all my might to Chudleigh to -stop and yield. For answer he whirled around and fired a pistol at us. -The sergeant grunted, and stopped. - -“Go on and take him yourself!” he said hastily to me. “His bullet’s in -my leg! No bones broke, but I can’t run any more! Adams will take care -of me!” - -Obedient to his command and my own impulse I continued the chase. -Perhaps if I had been cooler in mind I might not have done so, for -Chudleigh had proved himself a man; he probably had another pistol, and -another bullet in that other pistol; in case that other bullet and I -met, I knew which would have to yield, but I consoled myself with the -reflection that I too had a pistol and some acquaintance with its use. - -Chudleigh did not look back again, and perhaps did not know that he -was now pursued by only one man. He continued his flight as zealously -as ever. As I may have observed before, and with truth too, it incites -one’s courage wonderfully to have a man run from him, and seeing -Chudleigh’s back I began to feel quite competent to take him alone. We -wound about among the trees at a great rate. I was gaining, though I -was forced to pump my breath up from great depths. But I was consoled -by the reflection that, however tired I might be, surely he fared no -better. I shouted to him again and again, to stop, but he ran as if he -were born deaf. - -Presently I noticed that he was curving back toward the road, and I -wondered at his purpose. A moment later he burst from the trees into -the open ground. I was within fair pistol shot, and, with trees and -bushes no longer obstructing, he was a good target. I doubted not that -I could hit him, and since he would not stop for my voice, I must see -if a bullet would make him more obedient. - -I raised my pistol and took the good aim which one can do running -if he has had the practice. But my heart revolted at the shot. If I -could risk so much for Kate Van Auken’s brother, surely I could risk -something for Kate Van Auken’s lover. I do not take praise to myself -for not shooting Chudleigh, as I was thinking that if I did fire the -shot I would have but a poor tale to tell to Mistress Catherine. - -I let down the hammer of the pistol and stuffed the weapon into my -pocket. Chudleigh was now running straight toward the road. My wonder -what his purpose might be increased. - -Of a sudden he drew a second pistol and fired it at me, but his bullet -sped wide of the mark. He threw the pistol on the ground and tried to -run faster. - -I thought that when he reached the road he would follow it to the -south, hoping to shake me off; but, very much to my surprise, he -crossed it, and kept a straight course toward the river. Then I divined -that he being a good swimmer, hoped I was not, and that thus he might -escape me. But I can swim as well as run, and I prepared my mind for -the event. When he reached the river he threw off his coat with a quick -movement and sprang boldly into the stream. But I was ready. I threw my -own coat aside--the only one I had--and leaped into the water after him. - -If I was a good swimmer, so was Chudleigh. When I rose from my first -splash he was already far from me, floating partly with the stream, and -following a diagonal course toward the farther shore. I swam after him -with vigorous strokes. Curiously enough, the severe exertion to which -I had been subjecting myself on land did not seem to affect me in the -water. I suppose a new set of muscles came into play, for I felt fresh -and strong. Moreover, I resolved that I would cling to Chudleigh to the -very last; that I would not let him by any chance escape me. I felt -again that the entire fate of the great campaign depended upon me, and -me alone. With such a feeling, one’s sense of importance grows much, -and I think it made my arm stronger also, which was what I needed more -particularly just then. - -Chudleigh dived once and remained under water a long time, with the -probable intent of deceiving me in regard to his course. But the trick -worked against him rather than for him; when he came up he was nearer -to me than before. I thought also that his strokes were growing weaker, -and I was confirmed in such belief by the amount of water he splashed -about, as if his efforts were desperate rather than judicious. - -I swam, my strokes long and steady, and gained upon him with much -rapidity. We were approaching the shore, when he, looking back, -perceived that I must overtake him before he could reach land. - -With an abruptness for which I was unprepared, he swam about and faced -me as much as to say: “Come on; if you take me, you must fight me -first.” - -Chudleigh, with only his head above water, was not especially beautiful -to look at. The dirt with which he had disguised himself when he played -false guide to us was washed off partly, and remained partly in streaks -of mud, which made him look as if a hot gridiron had been slapped of a -sudden upon his face. Moreover, Chudleigh was angry, very angry; his -eyes snapped as if he were wondering why I could not let him alone. - -I may have looked as ugly as Chudleigh, but I could not see for myself. -I swam a little closer to him, looking him straight in the eye, in -order that I might see what he intended to do the moment he thought it. - -“Why do you follow me?” he asked, with much anger in his tone. - -“Why do you run from me?” I asked. - -“What I do is no business of yours,” he said. - -“Oh, yes, it is,” I replied. “You’re Captain Chudleigh of the British -army, an escaped prisoner, and I’ve come to recapture you.” - -“I don’t see how you’re going to do it,” he said. - -“I do,” I replied, though, to tell the truth, I had not yet thought of -a way to manage the matter, which seemed to present difficulties. In -the meantime I confined myself to treading water. Chudleigh did the -same. - -“That was a dirty trick you played on us back there,” I said, “palming -yourself off on us as a guide.” - -“I didn’t do it,” he replied in an injured tone. “You’re to blame -yourself. You forced me at the pistol’s muzzle.” - -He told the truth, I was forced to confess. - -“We’ll let that pass,” I said. “Now, will you surrender?” - -“Never!” he replied, in manner most determined. - -“Then you will force me to a violent recapture,” I said. - -“I fail to see how you are going to do it,” he said with much grimness. -“If you seize me here in the water, I will seize you, and then we will -drown together, which will be very unpleasant for both of us.” - -There was much truth in what he said. A blind man or a fool could see -it. - -“Let us swim to land and fight it out with our fists,” I proposed, -remembering how I had overcome Albert, and confident that I could -dispose of Chudleigh in similar fashion. - -“Oh, no,” he said decidedly, “I am very comfortable where I am.” - -“Then you like water better than most British officers,” I said. - -“It has its uses,” he replied contentedly. - -There was nothing more to do just then but to tread water and think. - -“Come, come, captain,” I said after a while, “be reasonable. I’ve -overtaken you. You can’t get away. Surrender like a gentleman, and -let’s go ashore and dry ourselves. This water’s getting cold.” - -“I see no reason why I should surrender,” he replied. “Besides, the -water is no colder for you than it is for me.” - -There was no answer to this logic. Moreover, what he said sounded like -a challenge. So I set myself to thinking with more concentration than -ever. There was another and longer interval of silence. I hoped that -Whitestone or Adams would appear, but neither did so. After all, I had -little right to expect either. We had left them far behind, and also we -had changed our course. There was nothing to guide them. - -I addressed myself once more to Chudleigh’s reason. - -“Your errand is at an end,” I said. “Whether I take you now or not, you -can not shake me off. You will never get through to Clinton. Besides, -you are losing all your precious time here in the river.” - -But he preserved an obstinacy most strange and vexatious. He did -not even reply to me, but kept on treading water. I perceived that -I must use with him some other means than logic, however sound and -unanswerable the latter might be. - -Sometimes it happens to me, as doubtless it does to other people, that -after being long in a puzzle, the answer comes to me so suddenly and so -easily that I wonder why I did not see it first glance. - -Without any preliminaries that would seem to warn Chudleigh, I dived -out of sight. When I came up I was in such shallow water that I could -wade. Near me was a huge bowlder protruding a good two feet above -the water. I walked to it, climbed upon it, and taking a comfortable -position above the water, looked at Chudleigh, who seemed to be much -surprised and aggrieved at my sudden countermarch. - -“What do you mean?” he asked. - -“Nothing,” I replied, “except that I am tired of treading water. Come -and join me; it’s very pleasant up here.” - -He declined my invitation, which I had worded most courteously. I -remained silent for a while; then I said: - -“Better come. You can’t tread water forever. If you stay there much -longer you’ll catch the cramp and drown.” - -I lolled on the bowlder and awaited the end with calmness and -satisfaction. My signal advantage was apparent. - -“I’ll swim to the other shore,” said he presently. - -“You can’t,” I replied. “It’s too far; you haven’t strength enough left -for it.” - -I could see that he was growing tired. He looked around him at either -shore and up and down the river, but we were the only human beings -within the circle of that horizon. - -“What terms of surrender do you propose?” he said at last, with a -certain despair in his tone. - -“Unconditional.” - -“That is too hard.” - -“My advantage warrants the demand.” - -He was silent again for a few moments, and was rapidly growing weaker. -I thought I would hasten matters. - -“I will not treat you badly,” I said. “All I want to do is to take you -back to our army.” - -“Well, I suppose I must accept,” he said, “for I am growing devilish -cold and tired.” - -“Pledge your honor,” I said, “that you will make no attempt to escape, -with the understanding that the pledge does not forbid rescue.” - -“I give you my word,” he said. - -Whereupon he swam to shore, to the great relief of us both. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE RETURN WITH CHUDLEIGH. - - -We climbed up the bank, and sat for some time drying in the sun. We -were wet, and, moreover, had drunk large quantities of the Hudson -River. As a regular thing, I prefer dry land as a place of inhabitation. - -While the sun dried our bodies and clothing I was thinking. Though I -had taken my man, and that, too, single-handed, my position was not the -best in the world. I was now on the wrong side of the river, and I had -lost my weapons and my comrades. Also I was hungry. - -“Chudleigh,” I asked, “are you hungry?” - -“Rather,” he replied with emphasis. - -“How are we to get something to eat?” I asked. - -“That’s your affair, not mine,” he replied. “I have nothing to do but -to remain captured.” - -I thought I saw in him an inclination to be disagreeable, which, to -say the truth, was scarce the part of a gentleman after the handsome -fashion in which I had treated him. In the face of such ingratitude, I -resolved to use the privileges of my superior position. - -“Are you about dry?” I asked. - -“Yes.” - -“Then get up and march.” - -He seemed to resent my stern tone, but inasmuch as he had provoked it -he had no cause for complaint. If he intended to assert all the rights -of a prisoner, then I equally would assert all the rights of a captor. - -“Which way?” he asked. - -“Northward, along the river bank. Keep in front of me,” I said. - -Obedient to my orders he stalked off at a pretty gait, and I followed. -We marched thus for half a mile. Chudleigh glanced back at me once or -twice. I seemed not to notice it, though I could guess what was passing -in his mind. - -“If I hadn’t given my word,” he said, “I think I’d fight it out with -you, fist and skull.” - -“I offered you the chance,” I said, “when we were in the river, but -you would not accept it. You’ve heard many wise sayings about lost -opportunities, and this proves the truth of them.” - -“That’s so,” he said with a sigh of deep regret. - -“Besides,” I added, in the way of consolation for his lost opportunity, -“you would gain nothing by it but bruises. I am larger and stronger -than you.” - -He measured me with his eye and concluded that I spoke truth, for he -heaved another sigh, but of comfort. - -“Now, Chudleigh,” I said, “a man can be a fool sometimes and lose -nothing, but he can’t be a fool all the time and gather the profits of -the earth. Drop back here with me and let us talk and act sensibly.” - -He wrinkled his brow a moment or two, as if in thought, and accepted my -invitation. Whereupon we became very good companions. - -In reality I felt as much trouble about Chudleigh as myself. It was -like the trouble I had felt on Albert’s account. He had penetrated our -lines in citizen’s clothes, and if I took him back to our camp in the -same attire he might be regarded as a spy, with all the unpleasant -consequences such a thing entails. Having spared Chudleigh’s life once -from scruples, I had no mind to lead him to the gallows. I must get a -British uniform for him, though how was more than I could tell. The -problem troubled me much. - -But the advance of hunger soon drove thoughts of Chudleigh’s safety -out of my mind, and, stubborn Englishman though he was, he was fain to -confess that he too felt the desire for food. Along that side of the -river the settlements were but scant, and nowhere did we see a house. - -That we would encounter Whitestone and Adams was beyond all -probability, for they would never surmise that we had crossed the -river. Chudleigh and I looked ruefully and hungrily at each other. - -“Chudleigh,” I said, “you are more trouble a captive than a fugitive.” - -“The responsibility is yours,” he said. “I decline to carry the burdens -of my captor. Find me something to eat.” - -We trudged along for more than an hour, somewhat gloomy and the pains -of hunger increasing. I was about to call a halt, that we might rest -and that I might think about our difficulties, when I saw a column of -smoke rising above a hill. I called Chudleigh’s attention to it, and he -agreed with me that we ought to push on and see what it was. - -I was convinced that friends must be at the bottom of that column of -smoke. If any British party had come so far north, which in itself was -improbable, it could scarce be so careless as to give to the Americans -plain warning of its presence. - -It was a long walk, but we were cheered by the possibility that our -reward would be dinner. Chudleigh seemed to cherish some lingering hope -that it was a party of British or Tories who would rescue him, but I -told him to save himself such disappointments. - -In a short time we came in view of those who had built the fire, and I -was delighted to find my surmise that they were Americans was correct. - -They numbered some fifty or a hundred, and I guessed they were a -detachment on the way to join the northern army beleaguering Burgoyne. - -“Chudleigh,” I said as we approached the first sentinel, “will you -promise to do all that I say?” - -“Of course; I am your prisoner,” he replied. - -I hailed the sentinel, and my uniform procured for me a friendly -reception. Chudleigh I introduced vaguely as a countryman traveling -northward with me. The men were eating, and I told them we were making -close acquaintance with starvation. They invited us to join them, and -we fell to with great promptitude. - -I could tell them something about affairs at the north, and they could -give me the latest news from the south. They told me that Clinton -was still below Albany, hesitating and awaiting with impatience some -message from Burgoyne. - -I rejoiced more than ever that I had stopped Chudleigh, and felt pride -in my exploit. I hope I can be pardoned for it. It was but natural that -Chudleigh’s emotions should be the opposite of mine, and I watched his -face to see how he would take this talk. It was easy enough to see -regret expressed there, though he sought to control himself. - -The talk of these recruits was very bitter against the British. The -Indians with Burgoyne had committed many cruel deeds before they -fled back to Canada, and these countrymen were full of the passion -for revenge. I often think that if the British in London knew what -atrocities their red allies have committed in their wars with us they -would understand more easily why so many of us are inflamed against the -Englishman. - -These men were rehearsing the latest murders by the Indians, and they -showed very plainly their desire to arrive at the front before Burgoyne -was taken. Nor did they spare the name of Englishman. I was sorry on -Chudleigh’s account that the talk had taken such drift. He took note of -it from the first, because his red face grew redder, and he squirmed -about in the manner which shows uneasiness. - -“Chudleigh,” I whispered at a moment when the others were not looking, -“keep still. Remember you are my prisoner.” - -But he sat there swelling and puffing like an angry cat. - -While the others were denouncing them, I made some excuses, most -perfunctory, it is true, for the British; but this was only an -additional incitement to a bellicose man named Hicks. He damned the -British for every crime known to Satan. Chudleigh was so red in the -face I thought the blood would pop out through his cheeks, and, though -I shoved him warningly with my boot, he blurted out his wrath. - -“The English are as good as anybody, sir, and you accuse them falsely!” -he said. - -“What is it to you?” exclaimed Hicks, turning to him in surprise and -anger. - -“I am an Englishman, sir,” said Chudleigh with ill-judged haughtiness, -“and I will not endure such abuse.” - -“Oh, you are an Englishman, are you, and you won’t endure abuse, won’t -you?” said Hicks with irony; and then to me, “We did not understand you -to say he was an Englishman.” - -I saw that we were in a pickle, and I thought it best to tell the whole -truth in a careless way, as if the thing were but a trifle. - -“The man is an English officer, an escaped prisoner, whom I have -retaken,” I said. “I did not deem it worth while to make long -explanations, especially as we must now push on after you have so -kindly fed us.” - -But Hicks was suspicious; so were the others, and their suspicions -were fed by the mutterings and growls of Chudleigh, who showed a lack -of tact remarkable even in an Englishman out of his own country. Then, -to appease them, I went into some of the long explanations which I had -said I wanted to avoid. - -“That’s all very well,” broke in Hicks, “but if this man is an English -officer, why is he not in the English uniform? I believe he is an -Englishman, as you say; he talks like it, but tell me why he is dressed -like a civilian.” - -The others followed Hicks’s lead and began to cry: - -“Spy! Spy! Spy!” - -In truth I felt alarm. - -“This is no spy,” I said. “He is Captain Chudleigh, of the English -army.” - -“He may be Captain Chudleigh and a spy too,” said Hicks coolly. “I am -not sure about the Chudleigh part, but I am about the spy part.” - -“Hang him for good count!” cried some of the others, who seemed to be -raw recruits. The talk about the Indian atrocities was fresh in their -minds, and they were in a highly inflammatory state. I recognized a -real and present danger. - -“Men,” I cried, “you are going too far! This prisoner is mine, and it -is of importance that I take him back to the army.” - -But my protest only seemed to excite them further. In truth they -took it as a threat. Some of them began to demand that I too should -be hung, that I was a Tory in disguise. But the body of them did not -take up this cry. The bulk of their wrath fell upon Chudleigh, who -was undeniably an Englishman. Two or three of the foremost made ready -to seize him. I was in no mind to have all my plans spoiled, and I -snatched a musket from a stack and threatened to shoot the first man -who put a hand on Chudleigh. - -Chudleigh himself behaved very well, and sat, quite calm. The men -hesitated at sight of the rifle, and this gave me a chance to appeal -to their reason, which was more accessible now since they seemed to -be impressed by my earnestness. I insisted that all I had said was -the truth, and they would be doing much injury to our cause if they -interfered with us. I fancy that I pleaded our case with eloquence, -though I ought not to boast. At any rate they were mollified, and -concluded to abandon their project of hanging Chudleigh. - -“I’ve no doubt he deserves hanging,” said Hicks, “but I guess we’ll -leave the job for somebody else.” - -Chudleigh was about to resent this, but I told him to shut up so -abruptly that he forgot himself and obeyed. - -I was anxious enough to be clear of these men, countrymen though they -were; so we bade them adieu and tramped on, much strengthened by the -rest and food. - -“Captain,” said I to Chudleigh, though trying to preserve a polite -tone, “you do not seem to appreciate the beauty and virtue of silence.” - -“I will not have my country or my countrymen insulted,” replied he in -most belligerent tones. - -“Well, at any rate,” I said, “I had to save your life at the risk of my -own.” - -“It was nothing more than your duty,” he replied. “I am your prisoner, -and you are responsible for my safety.” - -Which I call rank ingratitude on Chudleigh’s part, though technically -true. - -It was late in the day when we met the detachment, and dark now being -near at hand, it was apparent that we would have to sleep in the woods, -which, however, was no hardship for soldiers, since the nights were -warm and the ground dry. When the night arrived I proposed to Chudleigh -that we stop and make our beds on the turf, which was rather thick and -soft at that spot. He assented in the manner of one who had made up his -mind to obey me in every particular. - -But before lying down I had the forethought to ask from Chudleigh a -guarantee that he would not walk away in the night while I was asleep. -I reminded him of his pledge that he would not attempt to escape, -barring a rescue. - -But he took exceptions with great promptness, claiming with much -plausibility, I was fain to admit, that his pledge did not apply in -such a case. He argued that if I lay down and went to sleep he was no -longer guarded; consequently he was not a prisoner; consequently he -would go away. Since he chose to stick to his position, I had no way to -drive him from it, whether reasonable or unreasonable. - -“Then I will bind you hand and foot,” I said. - -He reminded me with an air of triumph that I had nothing with which to -bind him, which unfortunately was true. - -“What am I to do?” I said as much to myself as to him. - -“Nothing that I can see,” he replied, “but to guard me while I sleep.” - -Without another word he lay down upon the turf, and in less than two -minutes his snore permeated the woods. - -Reflecting in most unhappy fashion that if it were not for the great -interests of our campaign I would much rather be his prisoner than have -him mine, I sat there making fierce efforts to keep my eyelids apart. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -MY THANKS. - - -About midnight I reached the limit of endurance. I was firm in my -resolution that I would not sleep, and while still firm in it I slept. -When I awoke it was a fine day. For a moment I was in a cold terror, -feeling sure Chudleigh had slipped away while I slept the sleep that -had overpowered me. But a calm, evenly attuned snore that glided -peacefully through the arches of the woods reassured me. - -Chudleigh was lying on his back, sleeping. He was as heavy as a log, -and I knew that he had not known a single waking moment since he lay -down the night before. I dragged him about with rudeness and he opened -his eyes regretfully. Presently he announced that he felt very fresh -and strong, and asked me where I expected to get breakfast. He said he -was sorry for me, as he knew I must be very tired and sleepy after -sitting up on guard all night. - -I gave him no answer, but commanded him to resume the march with me. We -walked on with diligence through a breakfastless country. Chudleigh, -though suffering from hunger, was frequent in his expressions of -sympathy for me. He said he had the utmost pity for any man who was -compelled to sit up an entire night and watch prisoners; but I replied -that I throve upon it, and then Chudleigh showed chagrin. - -We had the good fortune, about two hours before noon, to find the house -of a farmer, who sold us some food, and cared not whether we were -American or British, Tory or nothing, so long as we were good pay. - -A half hour after leaving this place I decided that we ought to recross -the river. Chudleigh offered no objection, knowing that he had no right -to do so, being a prisoner. I had no mind to take another swim, so I -made search along the bank for something that would serve as a raft, -and was not long in finding it. - -Having proved to Chudleigh that it was as much to his benefit as to -mine to help me, we rolled a small tree that had fallen near the -water’s edge into the river, and, sitting astride it, began our ride -toward the farther shore. I had a pole with which I could direct the -course of our raft, and with these aids it seemed rather an easy matter -to cross. I allowed the tree to drift partly with the current, but all -the time gently urged it toward the farther shore. - -We floated along quite peacefully. So far as we could see we were alone -upon the broad surface of the river, and the shores too were deserted. -I remarked upon the loneliness of it all to Chudleigh, and he seemed -impressed. - -“Chudleigh,” I said, “we’re having an easier time recrossing the river -than we had crossing it.” - -“So it would seem,” he replied, “but we won’t unless you look out for -the current and those rocks there.” - -I had twisted my face about while speaking to Chudleigh, and in -consequence neglected the outlook ahead. We had reached a shallow place -in the river where some sharp rocks stuck up, and the water eddied -about them in manner most spirited. The front end of our log was caught -in one of these eddies and whirled about with violence. I was thrown -off, and though I grasped at the log it slipped away from me. I whirled -about to recover myself, but the fierce current picked me up and dashed -me against one of the projecting rocks. With a backward twist I was -able to save myself a little, but my head struck the cruel stone with -grievous force. - -I saw many stars appear suddenly in the full day. Chudleigh and the log -vanished, and I was drifting away through the atmosphere. I was not -wholly unconscious, and through the instinct of an old swimmer made -some motions which kept me afloat a little while with the current. - -I had too little mind left to command my nerves and muscles, but enough -to know that I was very near death. In a dazed and bewildered sort of -way I expected the end, and was loath to meet it. - -The blue sky was rapidly fading into nothing, when some voice from a -point a thousand miles away called to me to hold up a little longer. -The voice was so sharp and imperious that it acted like a tonic upon -me, and brain resumed a little control over body. I tried to swim, -but I was too weak to do more than paddle a little. The voice shouted -again, and encouraged me to persevere. - -In truth I tried to persevere, but things were whizzing about so much -in my head and I was so weak that I could do but little. I thought I -was bound to go down, with the whole river pouring into my ears. - -“That’s a good fellow!” shouted the voice. “Hold up just a minute -longer, and I’ll have you safe!” - -I saw dimly a huge figure bearing down upon me. It reached out and -grasped me by the collar. - -“Steady, now!” continued the voice. “Here comes our tree, and we’ll be -safe in twenty seconds!” - -The tree, looking like a mountain, floated down toward us. My rescuer -reached out, seized it, and then dragged us both upon it. Reposing in -safety, mind and strength returned, and things resumed their natural -size and shape. Chudleigh, the Hudson River running in little cascades -from his hair down his face, was sitting firmly astride the log and -looking at me with an air of satisfaction. - -“Chudleigh,” I said, “I believe you have saved my life.” - -“Shelby,” he replied, “I know it.” - -“Why didn’t you escape?” I asked. - -“You compel me to remind you that I am a gentleman, Mr. Shelby,” he -said. - -That was all that ever passed between us on the subject, though I -reflected that I was not in his debt, for if he had saved my life I had -saved his. - -We had no further difficulty in reaching the desired shore, where the -sun soon dried us. We continued our journey in very amicable fashion, -Chudleigh no doubt feeling relief because he was now in a measure on -even terms with me. I, too, was in a state of satisfaction. Unless -Burgoyne had retreated very fast, we could not now be far from the -lines of the American army, and I thought that my troubles with my -prisoner were almost at an end. I hoped that Burgoyne had not been -taken in my absence, for I wished to be present at the taking. I also -had in my mind another plan with which Chudleigh was concerned. It was -a plan of great self-sacrifice, and I felt the virtuous glow which -arises from such resolutions. - -We paused again, by and by, for rest, the sun having become warm and -the way dusty. Chudleigh sat down on a stone and wiped his damp face, -while I went to a brook, which I had seen glimmering among the trees, -for a drink of fresh water. I had just knelt down to drink when I heard -a clattering of hoofs. Rising hastily, I saw two men riding toward -Chudleigh. Though the faces of these two men were much smeared with -dust, I recognized them readily and joyfully. They were Whitestone and -Adams. - -My two comrades evidently had seen and recognized Chudleigh. They -raised a shout and galloped toward him as if they feared he would flee. -I came down to the edge of the wood and stopped thereto see at my -leisure what might happen. - -Chudleigh sat upon the stone unmoved. As a matter of course he both saw -and heard Whitestone and Adams, but he was a phlegmatic sort of fellow -and took no notice. Whitestone reached him first. Leaping from his -horse, the gallant sergeant exclaimed: - -“Do you surrender, Captain?” - -“Certainly,” said Chudleigh. - -“It’s been a long chase, captain, but we’ve got you at last,” continued -the sergeant. - -“So it seems,” said Chudleigh, with the same phlegm. - -Then I came from the wood and cut the sergeant’s comb for him; but he -was so glad to see me again that he was quite willing to lose the glory -of the recapture. He explained that he had been overtaken by Adams. -Together they had wandered around in search of Chudleigh and me. Giving -up the hunt as useless, they had obtained new horses and were on the -way back to the army. - -We were now four men and two horses, and the men taking turns on -horseback, we increased our speed greatly. - -Whitestone and Adams were in fine feather, but there was one question -that yet bothered me. I wanted to take Chudleigh back in his own proper -British uniform, and thus save him from unpleasant possibilities. I did -not see how it could be done, but luck helped me. - -We met very soon a small party of Americans escorting some British -prisoners. Telling my companions to wait for me, I approached the -sergeant who was in charge of the troop. Making my manner as important -as I could, and speaking in a low tone, as if fearful that I would be -overheard--which I observe always impresses people--I told him that -one of our number was about to undertake a most delicate and dangerous -mission. It chanced that I had some slight acquaintance with this -sergeant, and therefore he had no reason to doubt my words, even if I -am forced to say it myself. - -He pricked up his ears at once, all curiosity, and wanted to know the -nature of the business. I pointed to Chudleigh, who was standing some -distance away with Whitestone and Adams, and said he was going to -enter the British lines as a spy in order to procure most important -information. - -“A dangerous business, you say truly. He must be a daring fellow,” said -my man, nodding his head in the direction of Chudleigh. - -“So he is,” I said, “ready at any moment to risk his life for the -cause, but we need one thing.” - -He asked what it was. - -“A disguise,” I said. “If he is to play the British soldier, of course -he must have a British soldier’s clothes.” - -I made no request, but I looked suggestively at the British prisoners. -The sergeant, who was all for obliging me, took the hint at once. He -picked out the very best uniform in the lot, and made the man who wore -it exchange it for Chudleigh’s old clothes. Chudleigh, who had been -learning wisdom in the last day or two, was considerate enough to keep -his mouth shut, and we parted from the sergeant and his troop with many -mutual expressions of good will. The uniform did not fit Chudleigh, nor -was it that of an officer, but these were minor details to which no -attention would be paid in the press of a great campaign. - -The matter of the uniform disposed of, we pressed forward with renewed -spirit, and soon reached the first sentinels of our army, which we -found surrounding that of Burgoyne. It was with great satisfaction that -I delivered Chudleigh to my colonel. - -The colonel was delighted at the recapture, and praised me with such -freedom that I began, to have a budding suspicion that I ought to be -commander in chief of the army. However, I made no mention of the -suspicion. Instead, I suggested to the colonel that as Chudleigh had -escaped once, he might escape again, and it would be well to exchange -him for some officer of ours whom the British held. - -The colonel took to the idea, and said he would speak to the general -about it. In the morning he told me it would be done, and I immediately -asked him for the favor of taking Chudleigh into the British camp, -saying that as I had been his jailer so much already, I would like to -continue in that capacity until the end. - -The colonel was in great good humor with me, and he granted the request -forthwith. As I left to carry out the business, he said, “The exchange -is well enough, but we’ll probably have your man back in a few days.” - -In truth it did look rather odd that the British should be exchanging -prisoners with us upon what we regarded as the unavoidable eve of -their surrender, but they chose to persevere in the idea that we were -yet equal enemies. Nevertheless, the coils of our army were steadily -tightening around them. All the fords were held by our troops. Our best -sharpshooters swept the British camp, and it is no abuse of metaphor to -say that Burgoyne’s army was rimmed around by a circle of fire. - -I found Chudleigh reposing under a tree, and told him to get up and -start with me at once. - -“What new expedition is this?” he asked discontentedly. “Can not I be -permitted to rest a little? I will not try to escape again?” - -I told him he was about to be exchanged, and I had secured the -privilege of escorting him back to his own people. - -“That’s very polite of you,” he said. - -I really believe he thought so. - -For the second time I entered Burgoyne’s camp under a white flag, and -saw all the signs of distress I had seen before, only in a sharper and -deeper form. The wounded and sick were more numerous and the well and -strong were fewer. It was a sorely stricken army. - -But I did not waste much time in such observations, which of necessity -would have been but limited anyhow, as the British had no intent to let -any American wander at will about their camp and take note of their -situation. When we were halted at the outskirts, I asked the officer -who received us for Albert Van Auken, who, I said, was a friend of mine -and of whose safety I wished to be assured. He was very courteous, and -in a few minutes Albert came. - -Albert was glad to see me, and I to see him, and as soon as we had -shaken hands I approached the matter I had in mind. - -“Madame Van Auken, your mother, and your sister, are they well, -Albert?” I asked. - -“Very well, the circumstances considered,” replied Albert, “though I -must say their quarters are rather restricted. You can see the house up -there; they have been living for the last three or four days and nights -in its cellar, crowded up with other women, with a hospital beside -them, and the cannon balls from your army often crashing over their -heads. It’s rather a lively life for women.” - -“Can’t I see your sister, Mistress Catherine?” I asked. “I have -something to say to her about Chudleigh.” - -“Why, certainly,” he replied. “Kate will always be glad to see an old -playmate like you, Dick.” - -He was so obliging as to go at once and fetch her. She looked a little -thin and touched by care, but the added gravity became her. She greeted -me with gratifying warmth. We had stepped a little to one side, and -after the greetings, I said, indicating Chudleigh: - -“I have brought him back as sound and whole as he was the day he -started on this campaign.” - -“That must be very pleasant to Captain Chudleigh,” she said with a -faint smile. - -“I saved him from a possible death too,” I said. - -“Captain Chudleigh’s debt of gratitude to you is large,” she replied. - -“I have taken great trouble with him,” I said, “but I was willing to -do it all on your account. I have brought him back, and I make him a -present to you.” - -She looked me squarely in the eyes for a moment, and said, as she -turned away: - -“Dick, you are a fool!” - -Which I call abrupt, impolite, ungrateful, and, I hope, untrue. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE BATTLE OF THE GUNS. - - -I returned to our camp downcast over the failure of good intentions, -and convinced that there was no reward in this life for self-sacrifice. -Perhaps if I were to fall in the fighting and Kate Van Auken were to -see my dead body, she would be sorry she had called me a fool. There -was comfort in this reflection. The idea that I was a martyr cheered -me, and I recovered with a rapidity that was astonishing to myself. - -An hour’s rest was permitted me before my return to active duty, and -I had some opportunity to observe our tactics, which I concluded must -be most galling to the enemy. Some clouds of smoke hung over both -encampments, and the crackling of the rifles of the sharpshooters -and the occasional thud of the cannon had become so much a matter of -course, that we scarce paid attention to them. - -When my hour of leisure was over I was assigned to duty with an -advanced party close up to Burgoyne’s camp. It was much to my pleasure -that I found Whitestone there too. It was but natural, however, that we -should be often on duty together, since we belonged to the same company. - -Whitestone, according to his habit, had made himself comfortable on the -ground, and, there being no law against it, was smoking the beloved -pipe, which like its master was a veteran of many campaigns. From his -lounging place he could see a portion of the British camp. - -“Mr. Shelby,” said he, “this is like sitting by and watching a wounded -bear die, and giving him a little prod now and then to hurry the death -along.” - -So it was, and it was no wonder the soldiers grew impatient. But I was -bound to confess that the policy of our generals was right, and by it -they would win as much and save more life. - -There was nothing for me to do, and I kept my eyes most of the time -on the house Albert had pointed out to me. Crouched in its cellar I -knew were scared women and weeping children, and doubtless Kate and her -mother were among them. Once a cannon ball struck the house and went -through it, burying itself in the ground on the other side. I held my -breath for a little, but I was reassured by the thought that the women -and children were out of range in the cellar. - -Thus the day passed in idleness as far as I was concerned. I spent it -not unpleasantly in gossip with Whitestone. The nightfall was dark, -and under cover of it the British ran a twenty-four pounder forward -into a good position and opened fire with it upon some of our advanced -parties. My first warning of the attack was a loud report much nearer -to us than usual, followed by a hissing and singing as if something -were stinging the air, and then a solid chunk of iron struck the -earth with a vengeful swish a few yards from us. A cloud of dirt was -spattered in our faces, stinging us like bees. - -When we had recovered from our surprise, and assured ourselves we -were neither dead nor dying, we made remarks about chance, and the -probability that no other cannon ball would strike near us during the -campaign. Just as the last of such remarks were spoken we heard the -roar and heavy boom, followed by the rapid swish through the air, and -the cannon ball struck a full yard nearer to us than the first. We used -vigorous and, I fear, bad language, which, however, is a great relief -sometimes, especially to a soldier. - -“They’ve pushed that gun up too close to us,” said Whitestone. “It’s -among those trees across there. The darkness has helped them.” - -We were of opinion that the men with the gun had our range--that is, of -our particular party--and we thought it wise and healthy to lie down -and expose the least possible surface. I awaited the third shot with -much curiosity and some apprehension. - -Presently we saw a twinkle, as of a powder match, and then a great -flash. The ball shrieked through the air, and with a shiver that could -not be checked we waited for it to strike. True to its predecessors, -it followed nearly the same course and smashed against a stone near -us. One of our men was struck by the rebounding of fragments, of iron -or stone, and severely wounded. It was too dark to see well, but his -groans spoke for him. Whitestone and I took hold of him and carried him -back for treatment. While we were gone, one man was slain and another -wounded in the same way. In the darkness that British cannon had become -a live thing and was stinging us. Some of our best sharpshooters were -chosen to slay the cannoneers, but they could aim only by the flash -of the gun, and the men loading it had the woods to protect them. The -bullets were wasted, and the troublesome hornet stung again and again. - -We were perplexed. Our pride as well as our safety was concerned. The -idea came to me at last. - -“To fight fire with fire is an old saying,” I remarked to Whitestone. - -“What do you mean?” he asked. - -“Why, we must have a cannon too,” I said. - -He understood at once, for Whitestone is not a dull man. He volunteered -to get the cannon and I went along with him to help. We presented -our claim with such urgency and eloquence that the artillery officer -to whom we went was impressed. Also he was near enough to see how -damaging and dangerous the British cannon had become. - -“You can have Old Ty,” he said, “and be sure you make good use of him.” - -I did not understand, but Whitestone did. He knew Old Ty. He explained -that Old Ty, which was short for “Old Ticonderoga,” was a twenty-four -pounder taken at Ticonderoga early in the war by Ethan Allen and -his Green Mountain Boys. It had done so much service and in so many -campaigns that the gunners had affectionately nicknamed the veteran Old -Ty in memory of the fortress in which he had been taken. - -“I’ve seen Old Ty,” said Whitestone. “He’s been battered about a good -lot, but he’s got a mighty bad bark and a worse bite.” - -In a few minutes the groaning of wheels and the shout of the driver to -the horses announced the approach of Old Ty. I stood aside with respect -while the gun passed, and a grim and fierce old veteran he was, full -worthy the respect of a youngster such as I felt myself to be. - -Old Ty was of very dark metal, and there were many scars upon him where -he had received the blows of enemies of a like caliber. A wheel which -had been struck by a ball in the heat of action was bent a trifle to -one side, and Old Ty rolled along as if he were a little lame and -didn’t mind it. His big black muzzle grinned at me as if he were proud -of his scars, and felt good for many more. - -Just behind the gun walked a man as ugly and battered as Old Ty himself. - -“That’s Goss, the gunner,” said Whitestone. “He’s been with Old Ty all -through the war, and loves him better than his wife.” - -On went the fierce and ugly pair like two who knew their duty and loved -it. - -The night, as usual after the first rush of darkness, had begun to -brighten a bit. We could see the British cannon, a long, ugly piece, -without waiting for its flash; yet its gunners were protected so well -by fresh-felled trees and a swell of the earth that our sharpshooters -could not pick them off. They were in good position, and nothing -lighter than Old Ty could drive them out of it. - -The British saw what we were about and sought to check us. They fired -more rapidly, and a cannon ball smashed one of the horses hitched to -Old Ty almost to a pulp. But Goss sprang forward, seized one wheel, -and threw the veteran into place. - -Old Ty had a position much like that of his antagonist, and Goss, -stroking his iron comrade like one who pets an old friend, began to -seek the range, and take very long and careful looks at the enemy. -Lights along the line of either army flared up, and many looked on. - -“Lie flat on the ground here,” said Whitestone to me. “This is going to -be a pitched battle between the big guns, and you want to look out.” - -I adopted Whitestone’s advice, thinking it very good. Old Ty’s big -black muzzle grinned threateningly across at his antagonist, as if he -longed to show his teeth, but waited the word and hand of his comrade. - -“There goes the bark of the other!” cried Whitestone. - -The bright blaze sprang up, the British cannon roared, and hurled his -shot. The mass of iron swept over Old Ty and buried itself in the -hillside. - -“Much bark, but no bite,” said Whitestone. - -Old Ty, black and defiant, was yet silent. Goss was not a man who -hurried himself or his comrade. We waited, breathless. Suddenly Goss -leaned over and touched the match. - -Old Ty spoke in the hoarse, roaring voice that indicates much wear. One -of the felled trees in the British position was shattered, and the ball -bounded to the right and was lost to sight. - -“A little bite,” said Whitestone, “but not deep enough.” - -Old Ty smoked and grew blacker, as if he were not satisfied with -himself. They swabbed out his mouth and filled it with iron again. - -Where I lay I could see the muzzles of both cannon threatening each -other. The Briton was slower than before, as if he wished to be sure. -Goss continued to pat his comrade by way of stirring up his spirit. -That did not seem to me to be needed, for Old Ty was the very fellow I -would have chosen for such a furious contention as this. - -The two champions spoke at the same instant, and the roar of them was -so great that for the moment I thought I would be struck deaf. A great -cloud of smoke enveloped either cannon, but when it raised both sides -cheered. - -Old Ty had received a fresh blow on his lame wheel, and careened a -little farther to one side, but the Briton was hit the harder of the -two. His axle had been battered by Old Ty’s ball, and the British were -as busy as bees propping him up for the third raid. - -“Rather evenly matched,” grunted Whitestone, “and both full of grit. I -think we shall have some very pretty sport here.” - -I was of Whitestone’s opinion. - -I could see Goss frowning. He did not like the wound Old Ty had -received, and stroked the lame wheel. “Steady, old partner,” I heard -him say. “We’ll beat ’em yet.” - -All at once I noticed that the lights along the line had increased, and -some thousands were looking on at the battle of the two giants. - -“Old Ty must win!” I said to Whitestone. “We can’t let him lose.” - -“I don’t know,” said Whitestone, shaking his head. “A battle’s never -over till the last shot’s fired.” - -The Briton was first, and it was well that we were sheltered. The ball -glanced along Old Ty’s barrel, making a long rip in the iron, and -bounded over our heads and across the hill. - -“Old Ty got it that time,” said Whitestone. “That was a cruel blow.” - -He spoke truth, and a less seasoned veteran than Old Ty would have -been crushed by it. There was a look of deep concern on Goss’s face -as he ran his hand over the huge rent in Old Ty’s side. Then his face -brightened a bit, and I concluded the veteran was good for more hard -blows. - -The blow must have had some effect upon Old Ty’s voice or temper. At -any rate, when he replied his roar was hoarser and angrier. A cry arose -from the British ranks, and I saw them taking away a body. Old Ty had -tasted blood. But the British cannon was as formidable as ever. - -“The chances look a bit against Old Ty,” commented Whitestone, and I -had to confess to myself, although with reluctance, that it was so. - -Goss was very slow in his preparations for the fourth shot. He had the -men to steady Old Ty, and he made a slight change in the elevation. -Again both spoke at the same time, and Old Ty groaned aloud as the mass -of British iron tore along his barrel, ripping out a gap deeper and -longer than any other. His own bolt tore off one of the Briton’s wheels. - -“The Englishman’s on one leg,” said Whitestone, “but Old Ty’s got it -next to the heart. Chances two to one in favor of the Englishman.” - -I sighed. Poor Old Ty! I could not bear to see the veteran beaten. -Goss’s hard, dark face showed grief. He examined Old Ty with care and -fumbled about him. - -“What is he doing?” I asked of Whitestone, who lay nearer the gun. - -“I think he’s trying to see if Old Ty will stand another shot,” he -said. “He’s got some big rips in the barrel, and he may leave in all -directions when the powder explodes.” - -Old Ty in truth was ragged and torn like a veteran in his last fight. -The Briton had lost one wheel and was propped up on the side, but his -black muzzle looked triumphant across the way. - -The British fired again and then shouted in triumph. Old Ty, too, had -lost a wheel, which the shot had pounded into old iron. - -“Old Ty is near his end,” said Whitestone. “One leg gone and holes in -his body as big as my hat; that’s too much!” - -Old Ty was straightened up, and Goss giving the word, the shot was -rolled into his wide mouth. Then the gunner, as grim and battered as -his gun, took aim. Upon the instant all our men rushed to cover. - -Goss touched the match, and a crash far outdoing all the others stunned -us. With the noise in my ears and the smoke in my eyes I knew not what -had happened. But Whitestone cried aloud in joy. Rubbing my eyes clear, -I looked across to see the effect of the shot. I saw only a heap of -rubbish. Old Ty’s bolt had smote his enemy and blown up the caisson and -the cannon with it. - -Then I looked at Old Ty to see how he bore his triumph, but his mighty -barrel was split asunder and he was a cannon no longer, just pieces of -old iron. - -Sitting on a log was some one with tears on his hard, brown face. It -was Goss, the gunner, weeping over the end of his comrade. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE MAN FROM CLINTON. - - -At one o’clock in the morning I went off duty, and at five minutes past -one o’clock I had begun a very pleasant and healthful slumber. At eight -o’clock I awoke, and found Whitestone sitting by a little fire cooking -strips of bacon, some of which he was so kind as to give me. - -Whitestone’s face was puffed out in the manner of one who has news to -tell, and I was quite willing that he should gratify himself by telling -it to me. - -“What is it, Whitestone?” I asked. “Has the British army surrendered -while I slept?” - -“No,” said Whitestone, “and it may not surrender after all.” - -“What!” I exclaimed. - -“It’s just as I say,” said Whitestone, lighting the inevitable pipe. -“It may not surrender after all.” - -“What has happened?” - -Whitestone’s cheeks continued to swell with a sense of importance. - -“Clinton’s advancing with seven thousand men,” he said. - -“That’s nothing,” I said. “Clinton’s been advancing for weeks, and he -never gets near us.” - -“But he is near us this time, sure enough,” said the sergeant very -seriously. - -I was still unbelieving, and looked my unbelief. - -“It’s as I say,” resumed the sergeant; “there is no doubt about it. -Just after daylight this morning some skirmishers took a messenger -from Clinton, who bore dispatches announcing his arrival within a very -short time. It seems that Clinton is much farther up the river than we -supposed, and that his army is also much larger than all our reckonings -made it. I guess that with re-enforcements he got over the fright we -gave him.” - -This in truth sounded like a matter of moment. I asked Whitestone if he -was sure of what he reported, and he said the news was all over the -camp. I must confess that I felt as if it were a personal blow. I had -looked upon the capture of Burgoyne as a certainty, but the arrival of -Clinton with seven thousand fresh men would be sure to snatch the prize -from us. It looked like a very jest of fate that we should lose our -spoil after all our labors and battles. - -“What’s to be done, Whitestone?” I asked gloomily. - -“In a case of this kind,” he replied, “I’m glad that I’m a humble -sergeant, and not a general. Let the generals settle it. Take another -piece of the bacon; it’s crisp and fresh.” - -“Have you seen this captured messenger?” I asked. - -“No,” replied Whitestone. “They have him in a tent over yonder, and I -think the officers have been busy with him, trying to pump him.” - -As soon as I finished the bacon I walked about the camp to see if I -could learn anything further concerning the matter, in which attempt -I failed. I saw, however, its effect upon the army, which vented its -feelings largely in the way of swearing. The soldiers expected we would -have to leave Burgoyne and turn southward to fight Clinton. Some said -luck was always against us. - -I was interrupted in my stroll by a message from my colonel to come at -once. I hurried to him with some apprehension. He had expressed his -high confidence in me of late, and, as I have said before, these high -confidences bring hard duties. - -But the matter was not so difficult as I had expected. - -“Mr. Shelby,” said the colonel, “we took prisoner this morning a man -bearing important dispatches from Clinton to Burgoyne--you have heard -about it, doubtless; it seems to be known all over the camp--and I am -directly responsible for his safe keeping for the time being. He is in -that tent which you can see on the hillside. Take three men and guard -him. You need not intrude upon him, though; he seems to be a very -gentlemanly fellow.” - -Of course I chose Whitestone as one of my three men, and we began our -guard over the tent. I understood from the gossip Whitestone had picked -up that the generals were debating what movement to make after the -important news obtained, and probably they would examine the prisoner -again later on. It was not at all likely that the prisoner, placed as -he was in the center of our camp, could escape, but there might be -reasons for keeping him close in the tent; so our watch was very strict. - -Nevertheless, Whitestone and I chatted a bit, which was within our -right, and tried to guess what would be the result of the campaign -if we had to turn southward and fight Clinton, with Burgoyne on our -rear. Doubtless some of these comments and queries were heard by the -prisoner, whose feet I could see sticking out in front of the tent -flap, but whose body was beyond our view. But I did not see that it -mattered, and we talked on with freedom. Once I saw the prisoner’s feet -bob up a bit, as if he suffered from some kind of nervous contraction, -but I made very slight note of it. - -The debate of the generals lasted long, and I inferred, therefore, -that their perplexity was great. Whitestone and I ceased to talk, and -as I, having command of the little detachment, was under no obligation -to parade, musket on shoulder, I sat down on a stone near the flap of -the tent and made myself as comfortable as I could. From my position I -could still see the prisoner’s boots, a substantial British pair, of -a kind that we could envy, for most of the time we were nearly bare of -foot, sometimes entirely so. - -The camp was peaceful, on the whole. The rattle of drums, the sound of -voices, rose in the regular, steady fashion which becomes a hum. The -prisoner was silent--unusually silent. He seemed to have no curiosity -about us, and to prefer to remain in the shadow of his tent. In his -place, I would have had my head out looking at everything. I noticed -presently the attitude of his boots. They were cocked up on their -heels, toes high in the air. I inferred immediately that the man was -lying flat on his back, which was not at all unreasonable, as he -probably needed rest after traveling all night. - -The hum of the camp became a murmur, and it was answered by a slighter -murmur from the tent. The prisoner was snoring. He was not only flat -upon his back, but asleep. I felt an admiration for the calmness -of mind which could turn placidly to slumber in such an exciting -situation. A curiosity about this prisoner, already born in me, began -to grow. He was most likely a man worth knowing. - -I concluded that I would take a look at the sleeping Englishman -despite my orders. I did not mention my idea to Whitestone, because -I thought he might object, and hint it was none of my business to go -in. I stooped down and entered the tent, which was a small one. As I -surmised, the prisoner was lying upon his back and was fast asleep. -The snore, which became much more assertive now that I had entered the -tent, left no doubt about his slumbers. Yet I could not see his face, -which was far back under the edge of the tent. - -I reached back and pulled the tent-flap still farther aside, letting -in a fine flow of sunlight. It fell directly upon the face of the -prisoner, bringing out every feature with the distinctness of carving. - -My first emotion was surprise; my second, wrath; my third, amusement. - -The prisoner was Albert Van Auken. - -I do not claim that mine is the acutest mind in the world; but at a -single glance I saw to the bottom of the whole affair, and the desire -to laugh grew very strong upon me. It had not been twenty-four hours -since I was talking to Albert Van Auken in Burgoyne’s camp, and here -he was a prisoner in our camp, bringing dispatches from Clinton, down -the river, to Burgoyne. I believe some things--not all things. - -I perceived that the bright light shining directly into Albert’s eyes -would soon awaken him. In truth he was yawning even then. I sat down in -front of him, closing my arms around my knees in the attitude of one -who waits. - -Albert yawned prodigiously. I guessed that he must have been up all the -previous night to have become so sleepy. He would have relapsed into -slumber, but the penetrating streak of sunshine would not let him. It -played all over his face, and inserting itself between his eyelids, -pried them open. - -Albert sat up, and, after the manner of man, rubbed his eyes. He knew -that some one was in the tent with him, but he could not see who it -was. I had taken care of that. I was in the dark and he was in the -light. - -“Well, what is it you wish?” he asked, after he had finished rubbing -his eyes. - -I guessed that he took me for one of the general officers who had been -examining him. I have a trick of changing my voice when I wish to do -so, and this was one of the times when I wished. - -“I am to ask you some further questions in regard to the matters we -were discussing this morning,” I said. - -“Well!” said Albert impatiently, as if he would like to be done with it. - -“According to the dispatches which we secured when we took you,” I -said, “Sir Henry Clinton was very near at hand with a large army.” - -“Certainly,” said Albert, in a tone of great emphasis. - -“It is strange,” I said, “that we did not hear of his near approach -until we took you this morning. Our scouts and skirmishers have brought -us no such news.” - -“It is probably due to the fact, general,” said Albert politely, “that -we captured your scouts and skirmishers as we advanced northward. Our -celerity of movement was so great that they could not escape us.” - -“That was remarkable marching, in truth,” I said admiringly. “You -Englishmen are as rapid in movement as you are strenuous in battle.” - -“Thank you, general,” said Albert, with complacent vanity. I felt a -strong inclination to kick him. I hate Tories, and, in particular, -those who would have people think they are Englishmen. - -“I believe you said Sir Henry Clinton had several thousand men with -him,” I resumed. - -“I did not say it,” replied Albert, “but most unfortunately it was -revealed in the dispatches which you captured upon me. I may add, -however, that the number is nearer eight thousand than seven thousand.” - -I understood the impression he wished to create, and I was willing to -further his humor. - -“Eight thousand with Sir Henry Clinton,” I said, as if musing, “and -Burgoyne has six thousand; that makes fourteen thousand, all regular -troops, thoroughly armed and equipped otherwise. We can scarce hope to -capture both armies.” - -“Not both, nor one either,” said Albert in derision. “As a matter of -fact, general, I think you will have some difficulty in looking after -your own safety.” - -“By what manner of reasoning do you arrive at that conclusion?” asked -I, wishing to lead him on. - -“Oh, well, you know what British troops are,” said Albert -superciliously; “and when fourteen thousand of them are together, I -imagine that troubles have arrived for their enemies.” - -My inclination to kick him took on a sudden and violent increase. It -was with the most extreme difficulty that I retained command over my -mutinous foot. - -“Perhaps it is as you assert,” I said musingly. “In fact there would -seem to be no doubt that it is best for us to let Burgoyne go, and -retreat with what rapidity we can.” - -“Of course! of course!” said Albert eagerly. “That is the only thing -you can do.” - -Now a desire to laugh instead of a desire to kick overspread me; but I -mastered it as I had the other. - -“I wish to tell you, however,” I said, assuming my politest manner, -“and in telling you I speak for the other American generals, that -however little we are pleased with the news you bear, we are much -pleased with the bearer. We have found you to be a young gentleman of -courtesy, breeding, and discernment.” - -“Thank you,” said Albert in a tone of much gratification. - -“And,” I resumed, “we have arrived at a certain conclusion; I may add -also that we have arrived at that conclusion quickly and unanimously.” - -“What is it?” asked Albert with eager interest. - -“That we have met many graceful and accomplished liars in our time, but -of them all you are the most graceful and accomplished,” I said with -grave politeness, my tongue lingering over the long words. - -Albert uttered something which sounded painfully and amazingly like -an oath, and sprang to his feet, his face flushing red with anger or -shame, I am uncertain which. - -He raised his hand as if he would strike me, but I moved around a -little, and the light in its turn fell on my face. He uttered another -cry, and this time there was no doubt about its being an oath. He -looked at me, his face growing redder and redder. - -“Dick,” he said in a tone of deep reproach, “I call this devilish -unkind.” - -“The unkindness is all on your side, Albert,” I retorted. “You have -given me more trouble in this campaign than all the rest of Burgoyne’s -army--if that fellow Chudleigh be counted out--and here I have you on -my hands again.” - -“Who asked you to come into my tent?” said Albert angrily. “I heard you -outside a while ago, but I did not think you would come in.” - -“That was when your feet bobbed up,” I said. “You must retain more -control over them, Albert. Now that I think of it, and trace things to -their remote causes, that movement first stirred in me the curiosity to -see your face, and not your feet only. Have them amputated, Albert.” - -“What do you mean to do?” he asked with an air of resignation. - -“Mean to do!” I said in a tone of surprise. “Why, I mean to retreat -with all the remainder of our army as quickly as we can in order to get -out of the way of those fourteen thousand invincible British veterans -who will soon be united in one force.” - -“Now stop that, Dick,” said Albert entreatingly. “Don’t be too hard on -a fellow.” - -“All right,” I replied; “go to sleep again.” - -Without further ado I left the tent, and found Whitestone waiting -outside in some anxiety. - -“You stayed so long,” he said, “I thought perhaps the fellow had killed -you.” - -“Not by any means as bad as that,” I replied. “I found him to be a -very pleasant young man, and we had a conversation long and most -interesting.” - -“About what?” Whitestone could not keep from asking. - -“About many things,” I replied, “and one thing that I learned was of -special importance.” - -“What was that?” - -“How to send Clinton and his eight thousand men back below Albany, hold -Burgoyne fast, and continue the campaign as it was begun.” - -“That’s a pretty big job,” said Whitestone, “for one man, and that one, -too, rather young and not overweighted with rank.” - -“Maybe you think so,” I said with lofty indifference. “But I can do it, -and, what is more, I will prove to you that I can. You can stay here -while I go down to the council of generals and tell them what to do.” - -Not giving Whitestone time to recover, I stalked off in a state of -extreme dignity. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -NOT A DROP TO DRINK. - - -I pressed into the council of the generals with an energy that would -not be denied, also with some strength of the knee, as an officious -aid-de-camp can testify even at this late day. As a matter of course, -my information was of such quality that everybody was delighted with me -and praise became common. Again I felt as if I ought to be commander -in chief. Again I had sufficient self-sacrifice to keep the thought to -myself. - -As I left the room they were talking about the disposition of the -prisoner who had tried to trick us into precipitate flight and the -abandonment of our prey. This put an idea into my head, and I told -it to a colonel near the door, who in his turn told it to their high -mightinesses, the generals, who were wise enough to approve of it, -and, in truth, to indorse it most heartily. - -I suggested that Albert be sent back to Burgoyne with the most gracious -compliments of our commander in chief, who was pleased to hear the -news of the speedy arrival of Clinton, which would greatly increase -the number of prisoners we were about to take. I asked, as some small -reward for my great services, that I be chosen to escort Albert into -the British camp and deliver the message. That, too, was granted -readily. - -“You can deliver the message by word of mouth,” said one of the -generals; “it would be too cruel a jest to put it in writing, and -perhaps our dignity would suffer also.” - -I was not thinking so much of the jest as of another plan I had in mind. - -I found Whitestone keeping faithful watch at the tent. - -“Well,” said he, with a croak that he meant for a laugh of sarcasm, “I -suppose the generals fell on your neck and embraced you with delight -when you told them what to do.” - -“They did not fall on my neck, but certainly they were very much -delighted,” I said; “and they are going to do everything I told them -to do.” - -“That’s right,” said Whitestone. “Keep it up. While you’re spinning a -yarn, spin a good one.” - -“It’s just as I say,” I said, “and as the first proof of it, I am going -to take the prisoner as a present to Burgoyne.” - -Turning my back on the worthy sergeant, I entered the tent, and found -Albert reclining on a blanket, the expression of chagrin still on his -face. To tell the truth, I did not feel at all sorry for him, for, as I -have said before, Albert had been a great care to me. - -“Get up,” I said with a roughness intended, “and come with me.” - -“What are they going to do with me?” asked Albert. “They can’t hang me -as a spy; I was taken in full uniform.” - -“Nobody wants to hang you, or do you any other harm,” I said. “In -your present lively and healthful condition you afford us too much -amusement. We do not see how either army could spare you. Put your hat -on and come on.” - -He followed very obediently and said nothing. He knew I held the whip -hand over him. - -“Sergeant,” I said to Whitestone, “you need not watch any longer, since -the tent is empty.” - -Then I took Albert away without another word. I had it in mind to -punish Whitestone, who was presuming a little on his age and experience -and his services to me. - -I really could not help laughing to myself as I went along. This would -make the third time I had entered Burgoyne’s camp as an escort--once -with Chudleigh, once with Albert’s sister and mother, and now with -Albert. I was fast getting to be at home in either camp. I began to -feel a bit of regret at the prospect of Burgoyne’s speedy surrender, -which would break up all these pleasant little excursions. - -Albert showed surprise when he saw us leaving our camp and going toward -Burgoyne’s. - -“What are you going to do?” he asked. - -“Nothing, except to take you back where you belong,” I said. “We don’t -care to be bothered with you.” - -“You hold me rather cheaply,” he said. - -“Very,” I replied. - -The return of Albert was an easy matter. I met a colonel, to whom -I delivered him and also the message from our council. The colonel -did not seem to know of Albert’s intended mission, for the message -puzzled him. I offered no explanations, leaving him to exaggerate it or -diminish it in the transmission as he pleased. - -When I turned away after our brief colloquy, I saw Kate Van Auken, -which was what I had hoped for when I asked the privilege of bringing -Albert back. Her paleness and look of care had increased, but again I -was compelled to confess to myself that her appearance did not suffer -by it. There was no change in her spirit. - -“Have you become envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary -between the two camps, Dick?” she asked in a tone that seemed to me to -be touched slightly with irony. - -“Perhaps,” I replied; “I have merely brought your brother back to you -again, Mistress Catherine.” - -“We are grateful.” - -“This makes twice I’ve saved him for you,” I said, “and I’ve brought -Chudleigh back to you once. I want to say that if you have any other -relatives and friends who need taking care of, will you kindly send for -me?” - -“You have done much for us,” she said. “There is no denying it.” - -“Perhaps I have,” I said modestly. “When I presented Chudleigh to you, -you called me a fool. I suppose you are willing now to take it back.” - -“I was most impolite, I know, and I’m sorry----” - -“Oh, you take it back, then?” - -“I’m sorry that I have to regret the expression, for, Dick, that is -what you are.” - -There was the faintest suspicion of a smile on her face, and I could -not become quite as angry as I did on the first occasion. But she -showed no inclination to take the harsh word back, and perforce I left -very much dissatisfied. - -When I returned to our camp I found much activity prevailing. It seemed -to be the intention of our leaders to close in and seize the prize -without further delay. No attack was to be made upon Burgoyne’s camp, -but the circle of fire which closed him in became broader and pressed -tighter. The number of sharpshooters was doubled, and there was scarce -a point in the circumference of Burgoyne’s camp which they could not -reach with their rifle balls, while the British could not attempt -repayment without exposing themselves to destruction. Yet they held -out, and we did not refuse them praise for their bravery and tenacity. - -The morning after my return I said to Whitestone that I gave the -British only three days longer. Whitestone shook his head. - -“Maybe,” he said, “and maybe not so long. They’ve been cut off at a new -point.” - -I asked him what he meant. - -“Why, the British are dying of thirst,” he said. “They are in plain -sight of the Hudson--in some places they are not more than a few yards -from it--but our sharpshooters have crept up till they can sweep all -the space between the British camp and the river. The British can’t -get water unless they cross that strip of ground, and every man that’s -tried to cross it has been killed.” - -I shuddered. I could not help it. This was war--war of the kind that -wins, but I did not like it. Yet, despite my dislike, I was to take -part in it, and that very soon. It was known that I was expert with -the rifle, and I was ordered to choose a good weapon and join a small -detachment that lay on a hill commanding the narrowest bit of ground -between the British camp and the river. About a dozen of us were there, -and I was not at all surprised to find Whitestone among the number. It -seemed that if I went anywhere and he didn’t go too, it was because he -was there already. - -“I don’t like this, Whitestone. I don’t like it a bit,” I said -discontentedly. - -“You can shoot into the air,” he said, “and it won’t be any harm. There -are plenty of others who will shoot to kill.” - -I could see that Whitestone was right about the others. Most of them -were from the mountains of Virginia and Pennsylvania, backwoodsmen and -trained Indian fighters, who thought it right to shoot an enemy from -ambush. In truth this was a sort of business they rather enjoyed, as it -was directly in their line. - -As I held some official rank I was in a certain sense above the others, -though I was not their commander, each man knowing well what he was -about and doing what he chose, which was to shoot plump at the first -human being that appeared on the dead line. A thin, active Virginian -had climbed a tree in order to get a better aim, and shot with deadly -effect from its boughs. - -I sat down behind a clump of earth and examined my rifle. - -“Look across there,” said Whitestone, pointing to the open space. - -I did so, and for the second time that day I shuddered. Prone upon the -ground were three bodies in the well-known English uniform. A pail lay -beside one of them. I knew without the telling of it that those men had -fallen in their attempt to reach the water which flowed by--millions -and millions of gallons--just out of reach. - -“It’s rather dull now; nobody’s tried to pass the dead line for an -hour,” said Bucks, a man from the mountains of western Pennsylvania, -with a face of copper like an Indian’s. - -“Did any one succeed in passing?” I asked. - -“Pass!” said Bucks, laughing. “What do you reckon we’re here for? No -sirree! The river is just as full as ever.” - -There was an unpleasant ring in the man’s voice which gave me a further -distaste for the work in hand. Our position was well adapted to our -task. The hill was broken with low outcroppings of stone and small -ridges. So long as we exercised moderate caution we could aim and shoot -in comparative safety. Bucks spoke my thoughts when he said: - -“It’s just like shooting deer at a salt lick.” - -But the dullness continued. Those red-clad bodies, two of them with -their faces upturned to the sun, were a terrible warning to the others -not to make the trial. Two of our men, finding time heavy, produced a -worn pack of cards and began to play old sledge, their rifles lying -beside them. - -The waters of the broad river glittered in the sun. Now and then a fish -leaped up and shot back like a flash, leaving the bubbles to tell where -he had gone. The spatter of musketry around the circle of the British -camp had become so much a habit that one noticed it only when it ceased -for the time. The white rings of smoke from the burnt powder floated -away, peaceful little clouds, and, like patches of snow against the -blue sky, helped out the beauty of an early autumn day. - -All of us were silent except the two men playing cards. I half closed -my eyes, for the sun was bright and the air was warm, and gave myself -up to lazy, vague thought. I was very glad that we had nothing to do, -and even should the time to act come, I resolved that I would follow -Whitestone’s hint. - -The two men playing cards became absorbed in the game. One threw down a -card and uttered a cry of triumph. - -“Caught your Jack!” - -“All right,” said the other; “it’s only two for you, your low, Jack -against my high, game. I’m even with you.” - -I became interested. I was lying on my back with my head on a soft -bunch of turf. I raised up a little that I might see these players, who -could forget such a business as theirs in a game of cards. Their faces -were sharp and eager, and when they picked up the cards I could tell by -their expression whether they were good or bad. - -“Four and four,” said one, “and this hand settles the business. Five’s -the game.” - -The other began to deal the cards, but a rifle was fired so close to -my ear that the sound was that of a cannon. The echo ceasing, I heard -Bucks and the man in the tree swearing profusely at each other. - -“He’s mine, I tell you!” said Bucks. - -“It was my bullet that did it!” said the man in the tree with equal -emphasis. - -“I guess it was both of you,” put in Whitestone. “You fired so close -together I heard only one shot, but I reckon both bullets counted.” - -This seemed to pacify them. I looked over the little ridge of earth -before us, and saw a fourth red-clad body lying on the greensward near -the river. It was as still as the others. - -“He made a dash for the water,” said Whitestone, who caught my eye, -“but the lead overtook him before he was halfway.” - -The two men put aside their cards, business being resumed; but after -this attempt we lay idle a long time. Bucks, who had an infernal zeal, -never took his eyes off the greensward save to look at the priming of -his gun. - -“I could hit the mark at least twenty yards farther than that,” he said -to me confidently. - -Noon came, and I hoped I would be relieved of this duty, but it was -not so. It seemed that it would be an all-day task. The men took some -bread and cold meat from their pouches and we ate. When the last crumb -fell, a man appeared at the edge of the greensward and held up his -hands. Bucks’s finger was already on the trigger of his gun, but I made -him stop. The man’s gesture meant something, and, moreover, I saw that -he was unarmed. I called also to the Virginian in the tree to hold his -fire. - -I thought I knew the meaning of the pantomime. I took my rifle and -turned the muzzle of it to the earth so conspicuously that the -Englishman, who was holding up his hands, could not fail to see. When -he saw, he advanced boldly, and laying hold of one of the bodies -dragged it away. He returned for a second, and a third, and then a -fourth, and when he had taken the last he did not come back again. - -“That’s a good job well done!” I said with much relief when the last -of the fallen men had been taken away. It was much pleasanter to look -at the greensward now, since there was no red spot upon it. I said to -Whitestone that I thought the English would not make the trial again. - -“They will,” he replied. “They must have water, and maybe they don’t -know even yet what kind of riflemen we have.” - -Whitestone was right. In a half hour a man appeared protecting his -body with a heavy board as long as himself. He moved with slowness and -awkwardness, but two or three bullets fired into the board seemed to -make no impression. - -“At any rate, if he reaches the river and gets back all right it’s too -slow a way to slake the thirst of many,” said Whitestone in the tone of -a philosopher. - -Bucks’s face puffed out with anger. - -“They mustn’t get a drop!” he said with the freedom of a backwoodsman. -“We’re to keep ’em from it; that’s what we’re here for.” - -The man looked fierce in his wrath and I did not reprove him, for after -all he was right, though not very polite. - -The man in the tree fired, and a tiny patch of red cloth flew into the -air. The bullet had cut his clothes, but it could not reach the man, -who continued to shamble behind his board toward the river. - -“I’m afraid we won’t be able to stop him,” I said to Bucks. - -Bucks had crawled to the edge of the hill and was watching with the -ferocity and rancor of a savage for a chance to shoot. Often I think -that these men who live out in the forests among the savages learn to -share their nature. - -I could not see because of the board, but I guessed that the man -carried a bucket, or pail, in one hand. In truth I was right, for -presently a corner of the pail appeared, and it was struck instantly by -a bullet from the rifle of the man in the tree. - -“At any rate, we’ve sprung a leak in his pail for him,” said Whitestone. - -I began to take much interest in the matter. Not intending it, I felt -like a hunter in pursuit of a wary animal. My scruples were forgotten -for the moment. I found myself sighting along the barrel of my rifle -seeking a shot. The Englishman had ceased for me to be a human being -like myself. I caught a glimpse of a red-coat sleeve at the edge of the -board and would have fired, but as my finger touched the trigger it -disappeared and I held back. Whitestone was at my shoulder, the same -eagerness showing on his face. The man in the tree had squirmed like a -snake far out on the bough, and was seeking for a shot over the top of -the board. - -The Englishman trailed himself and his protecting board along, and -was within a yard of the water. Over the earthwork at the edge of the -British camp the men were watching him. His friends were as eager for -his success as we were to slay him. It was a rivalry that incited in us -a stronger desire to reach him with the lead. In such a competition a -man’s life becomes a very small pawn. For us the Englishmen had become -a target, and nothing more. - -Bucks was the most eager of us. He showed his teeth like a wolf. - -The Englishman reached the water and stooped over to fill his pail. -Bending, he forgot himself and thrust his head beyond the board. With -a quickness that I have never seen surpassed, Bucks threw up his rifle -and fired. The Englishman fell into the water as dead as a stone, and, -his board and his pail falling too, floated off down the stream. - -I uttered a cry of triumph, and then clapped my hand in shame over my -mouth. The water pulling at the Englishman’s body took it out into the -deeper stream, and it too floated away. The zest of the chase was gone -for me in an instant, and I felt only a kind of pitying horror. Never -before in my life had I been assigned to work so hateful. - -Bucks crawled back all a-grin. I turned my back to him while he -received the praise of the man in the tree. It was evident to me that -nobody could cross the dead line in the face of such sharpshooters, and -I hoped the British saw the fact as well as we. - -Our enemies must have been very hard pressed, for after a while another -man tried the risk of the greensward. He came out only a few feet, and -when a bullet clipped right under his feet he turned and fled back, -which drew some words of scorn from Bucks, but which seemed to me to be -a very wise and timely act. - -I thought that this would be the last trial, but Whitestone again -disagreed with me. - -“When men are burning up with thirst and see a river full of water -running by, they’ll try mighty hard to get to that river,” he said. - -The sergeant’s logic looked good, but for a full hour it failed. I felt -sleepy, again, but was aroused by the man in the tree dropping some -twigs, one of which struck me in the face. - -“They’re going to try it again,” he said. - -As I have remarked, we could see a small earthwork which the British -had thrown up, and whoever tried to pass the dead line would be sure to -come from that point. The man in the tree had a better view than we, -and I guessed that he saw heads coming over the earthwork. - -Among our men was a slight bustle that told of preparation, a last look -at the flints, a shoving forward for a better position. I looked at my -own rifle, but I resolved that I would not allow zeal to overcome me -again. I would remember Whitestone’s suggestion and fire into the air, -leaving the real work to Bucks and the others, who would be glad enough -to do it. I saw the flutter of a garment at the earthwork and some one -came over. The man on the bough above me uttered a cry, to which I gave -the echo. All the blood in me seemed to rush to my head. - -Kate Van Auken, carrying a large bucket in her hand, stepped upon the -greensward and walked very calmly toward the river, not once turning -her eyes toward the hill where she knew the sharpshooters lay. Behind -her came a strapping, bare-armed Englishwoman, who looked like a -corporal’s wife, and then four more women, carrying buckets or pails. - -Bucks raised his rifle and began to take aim. I sprang up and dashed -his rifle aside. I am afraid I swore at him too. I hope I did. - -“What are you about, Bucks?” I cried. “Would you shoot a woman?” - -“Mr. Shelby,” he replied very coolly, “we’re put here to keep the -British from that water, man or woman. What’s a woman’s life to the -fate of a whole army? You may outrank me, but you don’t command me in -this case, and I’m going to shoot.” - -I stooped down and with a sudden movement snatched the gun from his -grasp. - -“Don’t mind it, Bucks,” said the man in the tree; “I’ll shoot.” - -“If you do,” I cried, “I’ll put a bullet through you the next moment.” - -“And if you should chance to miss,” said Whitestone, coming up beside -me, “I’ve a bullet in my gun for the same man.” - -The man in the tree was no martyr, nor wanting to be, and he cried out -to us that he would not shoot. In proof of it he took his gunstock from -his shoulder. The other men did nothing, waiting upon my movements. - -“Bucks,” I said, “if I give you your gun, do you promise not to shoot -at those women?” - -“Do you take all the responsibility?” - -“Certainly.” - -“Give me my gun. I won’t use it.” - -I handed him his rifle, which he took in silence. I don’t think Bucks -was a bad man, merely one borne along by an excess of zeal. He has -thanked me since for restraining him. The women, Kate still leading -them, filled their buckets and pails at the river and walked back to -the camp with the same calm and even step. Again and again was this -repeated, and many a fever-burnt throat in the besieged camp must have -been grateful. I felt a glow when I sent a messenger to our colonel -with word of what I had done and he returned with a full indorsement. -How could our officers have done otherwise? - -I was sorry I could not get a better view of Kate Van Auken’s face. -But she never turned it our way. Apparently she was ignorant of our -existence, though, of course, it was but a pretense, and she knew that -a dozen of the best marksmen in America lay on the hill within easy -range of her comrades and herself. - -“There’s but one thing more for you to do, Mr. Shelby,” whispered -Whitestone. - -“What’s that?” - -“Save the life of madame, her mother. She’s the only one yet unsaved by -you.” - -“I will, Whitestone,” I replied, “if I get the chance.” - -After a while, though late, the women ceased to come for the water. -Presently the sun went down and that day’s work was done. - -My belief that Chudleigh was a very fortunate man was deepening. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -THE MESSENGER. - - -I rose early the next morning, and my first wish was for duties -other than keeping the enemy away from the water. I found Whitestone -sitting on his camp blanket and smoking his pipe with an expression of -deep-seated content. - -“What are we to do to-day?” I asked him, for Whitestone usually knew -everything. - -“I haven’t heard of anything,” he replied. “Maybe we’ll rest. We -deserve it, you and I.” - -Whitestone has some egotism, though I do not undertake to criticise him -for it. - -It seemed that he was right, for we were like two men forgotten, which -is a pleasant thing sometimes in the military life. Finding that we -had nothing else to do, we walked toward the British camp, which, as -a matter of course, was the great object of curiosity for all of us, -and sat down just within the line of our sharpshooters. The zeal and -activity of these gentlemen had relaxed in no particular, and the -crackle of their rifles was a most familiar sound in our ears. - -We had a good position and could note the distressed look of the -British camp. The baggage wagons were drawn up with small reference to -convenience and more to defense. The house, the cellar of which I knew -to be inhabited by women, children, and severely wounded men, was so -torn by cannon balls that the wind had a fair sweep through it in many -places. Some of the soldiers walking about seemed to us at the distance -to be drooping and dejected. Yet they made resistance, and their -skirmishers were replying to ours, though but feebly. - -While I was watching the house I saw three or four officers in very -brilliant uniforms come out. After a few steps they stopped and stood -talking together with what seemed to be great earnestness. These men -were generals, I was sure; their uniforms indicated it, and I guessed -they had been holding conference. It must be a matter of importance or -they would not stop on their way from it to talk again. I directed -Whitestone’s attention, but he was looking already. - -“Something’s up,” I said. “Maybe they are planning an attack upon us.” - -“Not likely,” he replied. “It may be something altogether different.” - -I knew what was running through his mind, and I more than half agreed -with him. - -The generals passed into a large tent, which must have been that of -Burgoyne himself; but in a minute or two an officer came and took his -way toward our camp. He was a tall, fine fellow, rather young, and -bore himself with much dignity. Of a certainty he had on his finest -uniform, for he was dressed as if for the eye of woman. His epaulets -and his buttons flashed back the sun’s rays, and his coat was a blaze -of scarlet. - -The officer drew the attention of other eyes than Whitestone’s and -mine. In the British camp they seemed to know what he was about, or -guessed it. I could see the people drawing together in groups and -looking at him, and then speaking to each other, which always indicates -great interest. An officer with gray hair whom he passed looked after -him, and then covered his face with his hands. - -The officer came on with a steady and regular step to the earthwork, -where he paused for a moment. - -“It may be,” said Whitestone, “that you and I were the first to see the -beginning of a great event.” - -The officer stepped upon the earthwork, raising a piece of white cloth -in his hand. The fire of the sharpshooters ceased with such suddenness -that my ear, accustomed to the sound, was startled at the lack of it. - -“I think you’ve guessed right,” I said to Whitestone. - -He made no reply, but drew a deep breath at his pipe stem, and then let -the smoke escape in a long white curl. - -Some of the sharpshooters stepped from covert and looked curiously at -the approaching officer. - -“Whitestone,” I said, “since there is no committee of reception, let us -make ourselves one.” - -He took his pipe from his mouth and followed me. The murmur of the -camps, the sound made by the voices of many men, increased. The -officer came rapidly. Whitestone and I walked very slowly. He saw us, -and, noting my subaltern’s uniform, took me for one dispatched to meet -him. - -When he came very near I saw that his face was frozen into the haughty -expression of a man who wishes to conceal mortification. He said at -once that he wished to see our commander in chief, and without question -Whitestone and I took him to our colonel, who formed his escort to the -tent of our commander in chief. Then we returned to our former place -near the outposts. - -“How long do you think it will take to arrange it?” I asked Whitestone. - -“A day or two, at least,” he said. “The British will talk with as long -a tongue as they can, hoping that Clinton may come yet, and, even if he -don’t, there will be many things to settle.” - -Whitestone was right, as he so often was. The generals soon met to -talk, and we subalterns and soldiers relaxed. The rifles were put to -rest, and I learned how little we hate our enemies sometimes. I saw -one of our sentinels giving tobacco to a British sentinel, and they -were swapping news over a log. Some officers sent in medicines for the -wounded. No longer having fear of bullets, I walked up to the British -outworks and looked over them into the camp. A Hessian sentinel shook -his gun at me and growled something in his throaty tongue. I laughed at -him, and he put his gun back on his shoulder. I strolled on, and some -one hailed me with a familiar voice. It was Albert Van Auken. - -“Hello, Dick!” said he. “Have you folks surrendered yet? How long are -these preliminaries to last?” - -He was looking quite fresh and gay, and, if the truth be told, I was -glad to see him. - -“No,” I replied, “we have not surrendered yet, and we may change our -minds about it.” - -“That would be too bad,” he replied, “after all our trouble--after -defeating you in battle, and then hemming you in so thoroughly as we -have done.” - -“So it would,” I said. “Sit down and talk seriously. Are your mother -and sister well?” - -“Well enough,” he replied, “though badly frightened by your impertinent -cannon balls.” - -He sat down on a mound of earth thrown up by British spades, and I came -quite close to him. Nobody paid any attention to us. - -“How goes it with Captain Chudleigh?” I asked. - -“Poor Chudleigh!” said Albert. “He’s lying in the cellar over there, -with a ball through his shoulder sent by one of your infernal -sharpshooters.” - -“Is it bad?” I asked. - -“Yes, very,” he replied. “He may live, or he may die. Kate’s nursing -him.” - -Well, at any rate, I thought, Chudleigh is fortunate in his nurse; -there would have been no such luck for me. But I kept the thought to -myself. - -“Albert,” I asked, “what did your officers say to you when I brought -you back?” - -“Dick,” he replied, “let’s take an oath of secrecy on that point even -from each other.” - -For his part he kept the oath. - -I could not withhold one more gibe. - -“Albert,” I asked, “what do you Tories say now to the capture of an -entire British army by us ragged Continentals?” - -He flushed very red. - -“You haven’t done it,” he replied. “Clinton will come yet.” - -We talked a little further, and then he went back into his camp. - -The talk of the generals lasted all that day and the next, and was -still of spirit and endurance on the third. We soldiers and subalterns, -having little to do, cultivated the acquaintance of the enemy whom we -had fought so long. Some very lively conversations were carried on -across the earthworks, though, of course, we never went into their -camp, nor did they come into ours. - -On the third day, when I turned away after exchanging some civilities -with a very courteous Englishman, I met a common-looking man whose -uniform was a Continental coat, distressingly ragged and faded, the -remainder of his costume being of gray homespun. He nodded as he passed -me, and strolled very close to the British lines. In fact, he went -so close that he seemed to me to intend going in. Thinking he was an -ignorant fellow who might get into trouble by such an act, I hailed him -and demanded where he was going. - -He came back, and laughed in a sheepish way. - -“I thought it was no harm,” he said. - -“I have no doubt you meant none,” I said, “but you must not go into -their camp.” - -He bowed very humbly and walked away. His submission so ready and easy -attracted my notice, for our soldiers were of a somewhat independent -character. I watched him, and noticed that he walked in the swift, -direct manner of a man who knows exactly where he is going. Being a bit -curious, and having nothing else in particular to do, I followed him at -a convenient distance. - -He moved three or four hundred yards around the circle of our camp -until he came to a place beyond sight of that at which I had stood when -I hailed him. The same freedom and ease of communication between the -two armies prevailed there. - -My man sauntered up in the most careless way, looking about him in the -inquisitive fashion of a rustic soldier; but I noted that his general -course, however much it zigzagged, was toward the British. I came up -much closer. He was within a yard of the British lines and our men -were giving him no heed. I felt sure that in a few moments more, if no -one interfered, he would be in the British camp. I stepped forward and -called to him. - -He started in a manner that indicated alarm, and, of course, recognized -my face, which he had seen scarce two minutes before. I asked him very -roughly why he was trying so hard to steal into the British camp. - -“It’s true,” he said, “I was trying to go in there, but I have a good -excuse.” - -I demanded his excuse. - -“I have a brother in there, a Tory,” he said, “and I’ve heard that he’s -wounded. Everybody says Burgoyne will surrender in a few hours, and I -thought it no harm to go in and see my brother.” - -What he said seemed reasonable. I could readily understand his anxiety -on his brother’s account. He spoke with such an air of sincerity that I -had no heart to scold him; so I told him not to make the attempt again, -and if the tale that Burgoyne was to surrender in a few hours was true, -he would not have long to wait. - -Yet I had a small suspicion left, and I decided to humor it. If there -was anything wrong about the man he would watch me, I knew, after two -such encounters. I wandered back into our camp as if I had nothing on -my mind, though I did not lose sight of him. Among crowds of soldiers -there I had the advantage of him, for I could see him and he could not -see me. - -He idled about a while, and then began to move around the circle of -our camp inclosing the British camp. I was glad that I had continued -to watch him. Either this man was overwhelmingly anxious about his -brother, or he had mischief in mind. I followed him, taking care that -he should not see me. Thus engaged, I met Whitestone, who told me -something, though I did not stop to hold converse with him about it, -not wishing to lose my man. - -The fellow made a much wider circle than before, and frequently looked -behind him; but he stopped at last and began to approach the British -line. There was nobody, at least from our army, within thirty or forty -yards of him except myself, and by good luck I was able to find some -inequalities of the ground which concealed me. - -A British sentinel was standing in a lazy attitude, and my man -approached and hailed him in a friendly manner. The Englishman replied -in the same tone. - -“Can I go in there?” asked the man, pointing to the British camp. - -“You can go in,” replied the sentinel with some humor, “but you can’t -come out again.” - -“I don’t want to come out again,” replied the man. - -“You chose a curious time to desert,” said the sentinel with a sneer, -“but it’s none of my business.” - -The man was about to enter, but I stepped forward quickly, drawing -my pistol as I did so. He saw me and raised his hand, as if he too -would draw a weapon, but I had him under the muzzle of my pistol and -threatened to shoot him if he made resistance. Thereupon he played the -part of wisdom and was quiet. - -“I will take care of this deserter,” I said to the English sentinel. - -“I told him it was none of my business, and I tell you the same,” the -sentinel said, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re not fighting now. Only -don’t shoot the poor devil.” - -“March!” I said to the man, still covering him with my pistol. - -“Where?” he asked. - -“To the little clump of woods yonder,” I said. “I have something to say -to you.” - -The fellow had hard, strong features, and his countenance did not fall. - -He wheeled about and marched toward the wood. I followed close behind, -the pistol in my hand. I had chosen my course with my eyes open. Our -people were not near, and we reached the trees without interruption or -notice. In their shelter the man turned about. - -“Well, what do you want?” he asked in sullen, obstinate tones. - -“Your papers,” I said; “the message you were trying to carry into the -British camp.” - -“I have no papers; I was not trying to carry anything into the British -camp,” he replied, edging a little closer. - -“Keep off!” I said, foreseeing his intent. “If you come an inch nearer -I will put a pistol ball through you. Stand farther away!” - -He stepped back. - -“Now give me that letter, or whatever you have,” I said. “It is useless -to deny that you have something. If you don’t give it to me, I will -take you into the camp and have you stripped and searched by the -soldiers. It will be better for you to do as I say.” - -Evidently he believed me, for he thrust his hand inside his waistcoat -and pulled out a crumpled letter, which he handed to me. Keeping one -eye on him I read the letter with the other eye, and found I had not -been deceived in my guess. It was from Sir Henry Clinton to Sir John -Burgoyne, telling him to hold out for certain rescue. Sir Henry said he -was within a short distance of Albany with a strong force, and expected -to join Sir John soon and help him crush all the rebel forces. - -“This is important,” I said. - -“Very,” said the man. - -“It might have changed the fate of the campaign had you reached General -Burgoyne with it,” I said. - -“Undoubtedly it would have done so,” he replied. - -“Well, it wouldn’t.” - -“That is a matter of opinion.” - -“Not at all.” - -“I don’t understand you.” - -“The campaign is ended. Burgoyne surrendered a half hour ago.” - -Which was true, for Whitestone, with his skill in finding out things -before other people, had told me. - -“I’m very sorry,” said the man in tones of sharp disappointment. - -“I’m not,” I said. - -“What do you mean to have done with me?” he asked--“hanging, or -shooting?” - -I did not admire the man, but I respected his courage. - -“Neither,” I replied. “You can’t do any harm now. Be off!” - -He looked surprised, but he thanked me and walked away. - -It was unmilitary, but it has always been approved by my conscience, -for which I alone am responsible. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -CAPITULATIONS. - - -I stood with Whitestone and saw the British lay down their arms, and, -of all the things I saw on that great day, an English officer with the -tears dropping down his face impressed me most. - -We were not allowed to exult over our enemies, nor did we wish it; but -I will not deny that we felt a great and exhilarating triumph. Before -the war these Englishmen had denied to us the possession of courage -and endurance as great as theirs. They had called us the degenerate -descendants of Englishmen, and one of their own generals, who had -served with us in the great French and Indian war, and who should have -known better, had boasted that with five thousand men he could march -from one end of the colonies to the other. Now, more than five thousand -of their picked men were laying down their arms to us, and as many -more had fallen, or been taken on their way from Canada to Saratoga. - -I repeat that all these things--the taunts and revilings of the -English, who should have been the last to cheapen us--had caused much -bitterness in our hearts, and I assert again that our exultation, -repressed though it was, had full warrant. Even now I feel this -bitterness sometimes, though I try to restrain it, for the great -English race is still the great English race, chastened and better than -it was then, I hope and believe. - -Remembering all these things, I say that we behaved well on that day, -and our enemies, so long as they told the truth, could find no fault -with us. - -There was a broad meadow down by the riverside, and the British, -company after company, filed into this meadow, laid down their arms, -and then marched, prisoners, into our lines. Our army was not drawn up -that it might look on, yet Whitestone and I stood where we could see. - -Some women, weary and worn by suspense and long watches, came across -the meadow, but Kate Van Auken was not among them. I guessed that she -was by the side of the wounded Chudleigh. When the last company was -laying down its arms, I slipped away from Whitestone and entered the -British camp. - -I found Chudleigh in a tent, where they had moved him from the cellar -that he might get the fresher air. Kate, her mother, and an English -surgeon were there. The surgeon had just fastened some fresh bandages -over the wound. Chudleigh was stronger and better than I had expected -to find him. He even held out his hand to me with the smile of one who -has met an enemy and respects him. - -“I will be all right soon, Shelby,” he said, “so the doctor tells me, -if you rebels know how to treat a wounded prisoner well.” - -“In a month Captain Chudleigh will be as well as he ever was,” said the -surgeon. - -I was very glad on Kate’s account. Presently she walked out of the -tent, and I followed her. - -“Kate,” I asked, “when will the marriage occur?” - -“What marriage?” she asked very sharply. - -“Yours and Chudleigh’s.” - -“Never!” - -“What!” I exclaimed in surprise. “Are you not going to marry Chudleigh?” - -“No.” - -“Are you not betrothed to him?” - -“No. That was my mother’s plan for me.” - -“Are you not in love with him?” - -“No.” - -I was silent a moment. - -“Kate,” I asked, “what does this mean?” - -“Dick,” she said, “I have told you twice what you are.” - -Her cheeks were all roses. - -“Kate,” I said, “love me.” - -“I will not!” - -“Be my betrothed?” - -“I will not!” - -“Marry me?” - -“I will not!” - -Which refusals she made with great emphasis--every one of which she -took back. - -She was a woman. - - -THE END. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUN OF SARATOGA *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Altsheler. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - - p { margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; - } - - p.bold {text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} - p.bold2 {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 150%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - } - h1 span, h2 span { display: block; text-align: center; } - #id1 { font-size: smaller } - - - hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; - } - - hr.smler { - width: 8%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 46%; - margin-right: 46%; - clear: both; - } - - body{margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - } - - table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 5px; border-collapse: collapse; border: none; text-align: right;} - - .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - text-indent: 0px; - } /* page numbers */ - - .center {text-align: center;} - .smaller {font-size: smaller;} - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - .space-above {margin-top: 3em;} - .left {text-align: left;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sun of Saratoga, by Joseph Alexander Altsheler</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Sun of Saratoga</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>A Romance of Burgoyne's Surrender</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Joseph Alexander Altsheler</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 17, 2021 [eBook #66327]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUN OF SARATOGA ***</div> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="front" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/title2.jpg" alt="title2" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">Appletons’<br />Town and Country<br />Library<br /><br />No. 216</p> - -<p class="center">THE SUN OF SARATOGA<br />A ROMANCE OF BURGOYNE’S SURRENDER</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<h1>THE SUN<br /> OF SARATOGA</h1> - -<p class="bold space-above">A Romance of Burgoyne’s Surrender</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">BY</p> - -<p class="bold2">JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER</p> - -<div class="center space-above"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="logo" /></div> - -<p class="bold space-above">NEW YORK<br />D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br />1897</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1897,<br /> -<span class="smcap">By</span> D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="left"><span class="smaller">CHAPTER</span></td> - <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>I.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">On watch</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>II.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A light in the window</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>III.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A shot from the window</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IV.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Out of the house</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>V.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">My superior officer</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VI.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Belt’s ghost</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VII.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">In Burgoyne’s camp</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VIII.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A night under fire</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IX.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">My guide</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>X.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The sun of Saratoga</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XI.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The night after</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XII.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">We ride southward</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIII.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">We meet the fleet</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIV.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The pursuit of Chudleigh</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XV.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The taking of Chudleigh</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVI.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The return with Chudleigh</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVII.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">My thanks</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVIII.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The battle of the guns</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIX.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The man from Clinton</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XX.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Not a drop to drink</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XXI.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The messenger</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XXII.—</td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Capitulations</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">THE SUN OF SARATOGA.</p> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER I.</span> <span class="smaller">ON WATCH.</span></h2> - -<p>“You will watch this hollow and the hill yonder,” said the general, -“and see that not a soul passes either to the north or to the south. -Don’t forget that the fate of all the colonies may depend upon your -vigilance.”</p> - -<p>Then he left me.</p> - -<p>I felt much discomfort. I submit that it is not cheering to have the -fate of thirteen large colonies and some two or three million people, -men, women, and children, depend upon one’s own humble self. I like -importance, but not when it brings such an excess of care.</p> - -<p>I looked to Sergeant Whitestone for cheer.</p> - -<p>“We are not the only men on watch to cut off their messengers,” he -said. “We have our bit of ground here to guard, and others have -theirs.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> - -<p>Then he sat down on the turf and smoked his pipe with provoking calm, -as if the troubles of other people were sufficient to take our own -away. I decided to stop thinking about failure and address myself to my -task. Leaving the sergeant and the four men who constituted my small -army, I took a look about me. The hollow was but a few hundred yards -across, sparse-set with trees and bushes. It should not be difficult to -guard it by day, but by night it would be a different matter. On the -hill I could see the walls and roof of the Van Auken house. That, too, -fell within my territory, and for reasons sufficient to me I was sorry -of it.</p> - -<p>I walked part of the way up the hillside, spying out the ground and -seeing what places for concealment there might be. I did not mean to be -lax in my duty in any particular. I appreciated its full import. The -great idea that we might take Burgoyne and his whole army was spreading -among us, and it was vital that no news of his plight should reach -Clinton and the other British down below us.</p> - -<p>I came back to Sergeant Whitestone, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> was still sitting on the -ground, puffing out much smoke, and looking very content.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think we need fear any attempt to get through until night,” he -said. “The dark is the time for messengers who don’t want to be seen.”</p> - -<p>I agreed with him, and found a position of comfort upon the grass.</p> - -<p>“There’s our weak point,” said the sergeant, waving his hand toward the -Van Auken house.</p> - -<p>I was sorry to hear him say so, especially as I had formed the same -opinion.</p> - -<p>“But there’s nobody up there except women,” I said.</p> - -<p>“The very reason,” replied the sergeant.</p> - -<p>I occupied myself for a little while tossing pebbles at a tree. Then I -disposed my men at suitable distances along our line, and concluded to -go up to the house, which going, in good truth, was part of my duty.</p> - -<p>I was near the top of the hill when I saw Kate Van Auken coming to meet -me.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Dick,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Mistress Catherine,” I replied. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> - -<p>It had been my habit to call her Kate when we were children together, -but I could not quite manage it now.</p> - -<p>“You are set as a guard upon us?” she said.</p> - -<p>“To protect you from harm,” I replied with my most gallant air.</p> - -<p>“Your manners are improving,” she said in what I thought rather a -disdainful tone.</p> - -<p>“I must search the house,” I continued.</p> - -<p>“You call that protecting us?” she said with the same touch of sarcasm.</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless it must be done,” I said, speaking in my most positive -manner.</p> - -<p>She led the way without further demur. Now I had every confidence in -Kate Van Auken. I considered her as good a patriot as myself, though -all her family were Tory. It did not seem to me to be at all likely -that any spy or messenger of the British had reached the concealment of -the house, but it was my duty to be sure.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you would not care to talk to my mother?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“No!” I replied in such haste that she laughed.</p> - -<p>I knew Madame Van Auken was one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> most fanatic Tories in New York -colony, and I had no mind to face her. It is curious how women are more -hard-set than men in these matters. But in my search of the house I -was compelled to pass through the room where she sat, most haughty and -severe. Kate explained what I was about. She never spoke to me, though -she had known me since I was a baby, but remained rigid in her armchair -and glowered at me as if I were a most wretched villain. I confess that -I felt very uncomfortable, and was glad when we passed on to another -room.</p> - -<p>As I had expected, I found nothing suspicious in the house.</p> - -<p>“I hope you are satisfied?” said Miss Van Auken when I left.</p> - -<p>“For the present,” I replied, bowing.</p> - -<p>I rejoined Sergeant Whitestone in the hollow. He was still puffing at -his pipe, and I do not think he had changed his position by the breadth -of a hair. I told him I had found nothing at the house, and asked what -he thought of the case.</p> - -<p>“We may look for work to-night, I think,” he replied very gravely. -“It’s most likely that the British will try to send somebody through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -at this point. All the Van Aukens, except the women, are with Burgoyne, -and as they know the ground around here best they’ll go to Burgoyne and -have him send the men this way.”</p> - -<p>That was my thought too. Whitestone is a man of sound judgment. I sent -two of our lads toward the house, with instructions to watch it, front -and rear. It was my intent to visit them there later.</p> - -<p>Then I joined Whitestone in a friendly pipe and found much consolation -in the good tobacco. Kate’s manner had nettled me the least bit, but -I reflected that perhaps she was justified, as so many of her people -were with Burgoyne, and, moreover, she was betrothed to Chudleigh, an -Englishman. Chudleigh, an officer with Tryon in New York before the -war, had come down from Canada with Burgoyne. So far as I knew he had -passed safely through the last battle.</p> - -<p>I had naught in particular against Chudleigh, but it seemed to me that -he might find a wife in his own country.</p> - -<p>The day was slow. I would rather have been with the army, where there -was bustle and the hope of great things, but Whitestone, a pack of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -lazy bones, grunted with content. He stretched his long body on the -ground and stared up at the sky through half-closed eyes. A mellow sun -shone back at him.</p> - -<p>Toward noon I sent one of the men to the house with a request for some -small supply of provision, if they could spare it. We had food, a -little, but we wanted more. Perhaps I ought to have gone myself, but I -had my reasons. The man came back with two roast chickens.</p> - -<p>“The old lady gave me a blessing,” he said with a sour face, “and said -she’d die before she’d feed rebels against the best king that ever -lived; but the girl gave me these when I came out the back way.”</p> - -<p>We ate our dinner, and then I changed the sentinels at the house. -Whitestone relapsed into his apparent lethargy, but I knew that the -man, despite his seeming, was all vigilance and caution.</p> - -<p>We looked for no happenings before dark, but it was yet a good four -hours to set of sun when we heard a noise in the south and saw some -dust rising far down the hollow.</p> - -<p>Sergeant Whitestone rose quickly to his feet, smothered the fire in -his pipe, and put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> his beloved companion in an inside pocket of his -waistcoat.</p> - -<p>“A party coming,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and a lot of ’em, too, I think,” he replied, “or they wouldn’t -raise so much dust.”</p> - -<p>One of the men ran down from the hill where the view was better, and -announced that a large body of soldiers was approaching. I called all -the others and we stood to our arms, though we were convinced that the -men marching were our own. Either the British would come with a great -army or not at all.</p> - -<p>The approaching troops, two hundred at least, appeared down the valley. -The dust encased them like armor, and one can not tell what a soldier -is by the dirt on his uniform. Whitestone took one long and critical -look and then unbuttoned his coat and drew out his pipe.</p> - -<p>“What are they?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Virginians,” he replied. “I know their stride. I’ve served with ’em. -Each step they take is exactly two inches longer than ours. They got it -hunting ’possums at night.”</p> - -<p>They were in loose order like men who have marched far, but their faces -were eager, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> they were well armed. We halted them, as our duty bade -us, and asked who they were.</p> - -<p>“Re-enforcements for the Northern army,” said the captain at their -head. He showed us an order from our great commander-in-chief himself.</p> - -<p>“Where is Burgoyne?” he asked as soon as I had finished the letter. “Is -he still coming south?”</p> - -<p>“He is but a few miles beyond you,” I replied, “and he will come no -farther south. There has been a great battle and we held him fast.”</p> - -<p>They gave a cheer, and some threw up their hats. To understand our -feelings one must remember that we had been very near the edge of the -ice, and more than once thought we would go over.</p> - -<p>All their weariness gone, these long-legged Southerners shouldered -their rifles and marched on to join the great belt of strong arms and -stout hearts that was forming around the doomed Burgoyne and his army. -As they passed, Sergeant Whitestone took his pipe out of his mouth and -said:</p> - -<p>“Good boys!” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> - -<p>Which was short, but which was much for him.</p> - -<p>I watched their dusty backs as they tramped up the valley.</p> - -<p>“You seem to admire them,” said some one over my shoulder.</p> - -<p>“It is they and their fellows who will take Burgoyne, Mistress -Catherine,” I replied.</p> - -<p>“They can’t stand before the British bayonet,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Sorry to dispute the word of so fair a lady,” I replied, meaning to be -gallant, “but I was at the last battle.”</p> - -<p>She laughed, as if she did not think much of my words. She said no -more, but watched the marching Virginians. I thought I saw a little -glow as of pride come in her face. They curved around a hill and passed -out of sight.</p> - -<p>“Good-by!” said Mistress Kate. “That’s all I wanted to see here.”</p> - -<p>She went back to the house and we resumed our tedious watch. Whitestone -had full warrant for his seeming apathy. After the passage of the -Virginians there was naught to stir us in the slightest. Though born -and bred a countryman, I have never seen anything more quiet and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -peaceful than that afternoon, although two large armies lay but a short -distance away, resting from one bloody battle and waiting for another.</p> - -<p>No one moved at the house. Everybody seemed to be asleep there. Some -birds chattered undisturbed in the trees. The air had the crisp touch -of early autumn, and faint tokens of changing hues were appearing -already in the foliage. I felt a sleepy languor like that which early -spring puts into the blood. In order to shake it off I began a thorough -search of the country thereabouts. I pushed my way through the bushes, -and tramped both to the north and to the south as far as I dared -go from my post. Then I visited the guards who adjoined my little -detachment on either side. They had to report only the same calm that -prevailed at our part of the line. I went back to Sergeant Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“Better take it easy,” advised he. “When there’s nothing to do, do it, -and then be fresh to do it when there’s something to do.”</p> - -<p>I took his advice, which seemed good, and again made myself comfortable -on the ground, waiting for the coming of the night. It was still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -an hour to set of sun when we saw a mounted officer coming from the -north where our army lay. We seemed to be his destination, as he rode -straight toward us. I recognized Captain Martyn at once. I did not like -this man. I had no particular reason for it, though I have found often -that the lack of reason for doing a thing is the very strongest reason -why we do it. I knew little about Captain Martyn. He had joined the -Northern army before I arrived, and they said he had done good service, -especially in the way of procuring information about the enemy.</p> - -<p>Whitestone and I sat together on the grass. The other men were on guard -at various points. Captain Martyn came on at a good pace until he -reached us, when he pulled up his horse with a smart jerk.</p> - -<p>“Your watch is over,” he said to me without preliminary. “You are to -withdraw with your men at once.”</p> - -<p>I was taken much aback, as any one else in my place would have been -also. I had received instructions to keep faithful guard over that -portion of the line for the long period of twenty-four hours—that is, -until the next morning. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But this must be a mistake,” I protested. “There is nobody to relieve -us. Surely the general can not mean to leave the line broken at this -point.”</p> - -<p>“If you have taken the direction of the campaign, perhaps you had best -notify our generals that they are superseded,” he said in a tone most -ironical.</p> - -<p>He aroused my stubbornness, of which some people say I have too much, -and I refused to retire until he showed me a written order to that -effect from the proper officer. Not abating his ironical manner one -whit, he held it toward me in an indifferent way, as much as to say, -“You can read it or not, just as you choose; it does not matter to me.”</p> - -<p>It was addressed to me, and notified me briefly to withdraw at once -with my men and rejoin my company, stationed not less than ten miles -away. Everything, signature included, was most proper, and naught was -left for me to do but to obey. The change was no affair of mine.</p> - -<p>“Does that put your mind at rest?” asked Martyn. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, it does not,” I replied, “but it takes responsibility from me.”</p> - -<p>Sergeant Whitestone called the men, and as we marched over the hill -Martyn turned his horse and galloped back toward the army. When he had -passed out of sight behind the trees I ordered the men to stop.</p> - -<p>“Whitestone,” said I to the sergeant, who, as I have said before, was a -man of most acute judgment, “do you like this?”</p> - -<p>“Small liking have I for it,” he replied. “It is the most unmilitary -proceeding I ever knew. It may be that our relief is coming, but it -should have arrived before we left.”</p> - -<p>I took out the order again, and after scanning it with care passed it -to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>Neither of us could see anything wrong with it. But the sergeant’s -manner confirmed me in a resolution I had taken before I put the -question to him.</p> - -<p>“Sergeant,” I said, “every man in our army knows of what great import -it is that no messenger from the British should get through our lines. -We are leaving unguarded a place wide enough for a whole company to -pass. I think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> I’ll go back there and resume guard. Will you go with -me?”</p> - -<p>He assented with most cheerful alacrity, and when I put the question -to the others, stating that I left them to do as they pleased, all -joined me. For what they believed to be the good of the cause they were -willing to take the risks of disobedience, and I was proud of them.</p> - -<p>I looked about me from the crest of the hill, but Martyn was out of -sight. We returned to the valley and I posted my men in the same -positions as before, my forebodings that it would be a night of action -increased by this event.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER II.</span> <span class="smaller">A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW.</span></h2> - -<p>Two of my men were stationed near the house, but I had so placed them -that they could not be seen by any one inside. I had also concealed our -return from possible watchers there. I had an idea, which I confided to -Whitestone, and in which, with his usual sound sense, he agreed with -me. He and I remained together in the valley and watched the night come.</p> - -<p>The sun seemed to me to linger long at the edge of the far hills, but -at last his red rim went out of sight, and the heavy darkness which -precedes the moonlight fell upon the earth.</p> - -<p>“If anything happens, it will happen soon,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>That was obvious, because if Martyn meditated treachery, it would be -important for him to carry it out before the unguarded point in the -line was discovered. Officially it was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>unguarded, because we were -supposed to have gone away and stayed away.</p> - -<p>My suspicions were confirmed by the non-arrival of our relief. -Whitestone still took his ease, stretched out on the ground in the -valley. I knew he missed his pipe, but to light it would serve as a -warning in the dark to any one. I visited the two men near the house -and cautioned them to relax their watch in no particular.</p> - -<p>The night was now well begun and I could see no great distance. As I -turned away from the last man I chanced to look up at the house, whose -shape was but a darker shadow in the darkness. At a narrow window high -up, where the sloping eaves converged, I saw a light. Perhaps I would -not have thought much of it, but the light was moved from side to side -with what seemed to me to be regular and deliberate motion. It faced -the north, where our army lay.</p> - -<p>I walked twenty steps or so, still keeping the light in view. Its -regular swinging motion from side to side did not cease, and I could -not persuade myself that it was not intended as a signal to some one. -The discovery caused in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> me a certain faintness at the heart, for until -this night I had thought Kate Van Auken, despite mother, brother, and -all else, was a true friend to our cause through all.</p> - -<p>I own I was in great perplexity. At first I was tempted to enter the -house, smash the light, and denounce her in my most eloquent language. -But I quickly saw the idea was but folly, and would stand in the way -of our own plans. I leaned against an oak tree and kept my eyes fixed -on the light. Though the windows in the house were many, no other -light was visible, which seemed strange to me, for it was very early. -Back and forth it swung, and then it was gone with a suddenness which -made me rub my eyes to see if it were not still there; nothing ailed -them. The building was a huge black shadow, but no light shone from it -anywhere.</p> - -<p>I went in a mighty hurry to Whitestone and told him what I had seen. He -loosened the pistol in his belt and said he thought the time for us to -make discoveries had come. Once more I agreed with him.</p> - -<p>I drew my own pistol, that it might be ready to my hand, if need be, -and we walked a bit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> up the valley. It was very dark and we trusted -more to our ears than to our eyes, in which trust we were not deceived, -for speedily we heard a faint but regular thump, thump, upon the earth.</p> - -<p>“A horse coming,” I said.</p> - -<p>“And probably a horseman, too,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>How glad was I that we had stayed! It was not at all likely that the -man coming had any honest business there. We stepped a trifle to one -side and stood silent, while the tread of the horse’s hoofs grew -louder. In a few moments the horseman was near enough for us to see his -face even in the night, and I felt no surprise, though much anger, when -I recognized Captain Martyn. He was riding slowly, in order that he -might not make much noise, I supposed.</p> - -<p>I stepped forward and put my hand upon his bridle rein. He saw who -it was and uttered an exclamation; but after that he recovered his -self-control with a quickness most astonishing.</p> - -<p>“How dare you stop me in such a sudden and alarming manner?” he said -with an appearance of great wrath. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> - -<p>But, very sure now that I was right, I intended neither to be deceived -nor overborne. I ordered him to dismount and surrender himself.</p> - -<p>“You are very impertinent, sir,” he said, “and need chastisement.”</p> - -<p>I told him it mattered not, and ordered him again to dismount. For -reply he drew a pistol with such suddenness that I could not guard -against it and fired point-blank at my face. It was the kindly darkness -making his aim bad that saved me. The bullet passed me, but the smoke -and flash blinded me.</p> - -<p>The traitor lashed his horse in an attempt to gallop by us, but -Whitestone also fired, his bullet striking the horse and not the man. -The animal, in pain, reared and struck out with his feet. Martyn -attempted to urge him forward but failed. Then he slipped from his back -and ran into the bushes. My eyes were clear now, and Whitestone and I -rushed after him.</p> - -<p>I noted from the very first that the man ran toward the house, and -again, even in that moment of excitement, I congratulated myself that I -had expected treason and collusion and had come back to my post. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> - -<p>I saw the captain’s head appearing just above some of the short bushes -and raised my pistol to fire at him, but before I could get the proper -aim he was out of sight. We increased our efforts in fear lest we -should lose him, and a few steps further heard a shot which I knew came -from one of my men on guard. We met the man running toward us, his -empty rifle in his hand. He told us the fugitive had turned the corner -of the house, and I felt that we had trapped him then, for the second -man on guard there would be sure to stop him.</p> - -<p>We pressed forward and met the man from behind the house, attracted -by the sound of shots. He said nobody had appeared there. I turned to -a side door, convinced that Martyn had found refuge in the house. It -was no time to stand upon courtesy, or to wait for an invitation to -enter. The door was locked, but Whitestone and I threw our full weight -against it at the same time, and it flew open under the impact of some -twenty-five stone.</p> - -<p>We fell into a dark hall and scrambled in pressing haste to our feet. I -paused a moment that I might direct the soldiers to surround the house -and seize any one who came forth. Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> we turned to face Madame Van -Auken, who was coming toward us, a candle in her hand, a long white -robe around her person, and a most icy look on her face.</p> - -<p>She began at once a very fierce attack upon us for disturbing quiet -folks abed. I have ever stood in dread of woman’s tongue, to which -there is but seldom answer, but I explained in great hurry that a -traitor had taken refuge in her house, and search it again we must, if -not with her consent, then without it. She repelled me with extreme -haughtiness, saying such conduct was unworthy of men who pretended to -breeding; but, after all, it was no more than she ought to expect from -ungrateful rebels.</p> - -<p>Her attack, most unwarranted, considering the fact that a traitor had -just hid in her house, stirred some spleen in me, and I bade her very -stiffly to stand out of the way. Another light appeared just then at -the head of the stairway, and Mistress Kate came down, fully dressed, -looking very fine and handsome too, with a red flame in either cheek.</p> - -<p>She demanded the reason of our entry with a degree of haughtiness -inferior in no wise to her mother’s. Again I explained, angered at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -these delays made by women who, handsome or not, may appear sometimes -when they are not wanted.</p> - -<p>“Take the men, all except one to watch at the door, and search the -house at once, sergeant,” said I.</p> - -<p>Whitestone, with an indifference to their bitter words most -astonishing, led his men upstairs and left me to endure it all. I -pretended not to hear, and taking the candle suddenly from Kate’s hands -turned into a side room and began to poke about the furniture. But they -followed me there.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you think this is very shrewd and very noble,” said Kate -with a fine irony.</p> - -<p>I did not reply, but poked behind a sideboard with my pistol muzzle. -Both Kate and her mother seemed to me, despite their efforts to repress -it, to manifest a very great uneasiness. I did not wonder at it, for I -knew they must fear to be detected in their collusion with the traitor. -Kate continued to gibe at me.</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, it’s not Captain Chudleigh I’m looking for,” said I at last.</p> - -<p>“And in truth if it were, you’d be afraid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> to find him,” replied she, a -sprightly flash appearing in her eye.</p> - -<p>I said no more, content with my hit. I found no one below stairs, and -joined Whitestone on the second floor, the women still following me -and upbraiding me. I looked more than once at Kate, and I could see -that she was all in a tremor. I doubted not it arose from a belief that -I had discovered her treachery, as well as from a fear that we would -capture the chief traitor.</p> - -<p>Whitestone had not yet found our man, though he had been in every room -on the second floor and even into the low-roofed garret. At this the -two women became more contumelious, crying out that we were now shamed -by our own acts. But we were confident that the man was yet in the -house. I pushed into a large room which seemed to serve as a spare -chamber. We had entered it once before, but I thought a more thorough -search might be made. In one corner, some dresses hanging against the -wall reached to the floor. I prodded one of them with my fist and -encountered something soft.</p> - -<p>The dress was dashed aside and our man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> sprang out. There was a low -window at the end of the room, and with one bound he was through it. -Whitestone fired at his disappearing body, but missed. We heard a -second shot from the man on guard below, and then we rushed pell-mell -down the stairs to pursue him.</p> - -<p>I bethought me at the door to bid one of the men stay and watch the -house, for I knew not what further treachery the women might meditate. -This stopped me only a moment, and then I ran after Whitestone, who was -some steps in the lead. We overtook the man who had fired at Martyn, -and he said he had hit him, so he thought.</p> - -<p>“When he sprang from the window he rose very light from the ground,” he -said, “and I don’t think the fall hurt him much.”</p> - -<p>We saw Martyn some twenty yards or more in advance of us, running -toward the south. It was of double importance now that we should -overtake him, for if we did not he would be beyond our lines, and, -barring some improbable chance, would escape to Clinton with a report -of Burgoyne’s condition.</p> - -<p>The fugitive curved here and there among the shadows but could not -shake us off. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> held my loaded pistol in my hand and twice or thrice -had a chance for a fair shot at him, but I never raised the weapon. -I could shoot at a man in the heat of battle or the flurry of a -sudden moment of excitement, but not when he was like a fleeing hare. -Moreover, I preferred to take him alive.</p> - -<p>The moon was coming out, driving away part of the darkness, and on the -bushes I noticed some spots of blood. Then the fugitive had been hit, -and I was glad I had not fired upon him, for we would be certain to -take him wounded.</p> - -<p>The course led over pretty rough ground. Whitestone was panting at my -elbow, and two of the men lumbered behind us. The fugitive began to -waver, and presently I noticed that we were gaining. Suddenly Martyn -began to cast his hands as if he were throwing something from him, and -we saw little bits of white paper fluttering in the air. I divined -on the instant that, seeing his certain capture, he was tearing up -traitorous papers. We wanted those papers as well as their bearer.</p> - -<p>I shouted to him to halt lest I fire. He flung a whole handful of -scraps from him. Just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> then he came to a stump; he stopped abruptly, -sat down upon it with his face to us, and drawing a pistol from his -pocket, put it to his own head and fired.</p> - -<p>I was never more shocked in my life, the thing was so sudden. He slid -off the stump to the ground, and when we reached him he was quite dead. -We found no letters upon him, as in the course of his flight he had -succeeded in destroying them all. But I had not the slightest doubt -the order he had given to me would soon prove to be a forgery. His own -actions had been sufficient evidence of that.</p> - -<p>I directed Whitestone to take the body to some safe place and we would -give it quiet burial on the morrow. I did not wish the women to know of -the man’s terrible fate, though I owed them scant courtesy for the way -they had treated me.</p> - -<p>Leaving Whitestone and one of the soldiers to the task, I went back to -the house alone.</p> - -<p>Mistress Kate and her mother were at the door, both in a state of high -excitement.</p> - -<p>“Did he escape?” asked Madame Van Auken.</p> - -<p>“No,” I replied, telling the truth in part<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> and a lie in part. “We -captured him, and the men are now taking him back to the army.”</p> - -<p>She sighed deeply. Mistress Kate said nothing, though her face was of a -great paleness.</p> - -<p>“I will not upbraid you with what I call treachery,” I said, speaking -to them both, “and I will not disturb you again to-night. It is not -necessary.”</p> - -<p>I said the last rather grimly, but I observed some of the paleness -depart from Mistress Kate’s countenance and a look strangely like that -of relief come into her eyes. I was sorry, for it seemed to me to -indicate more thought of her own and her mother’s peace than of the -fate of the man whom we had taken. But there was naught to say, and I -left them without the courtesy of a good night on either side.</p> - -<p>Whitestone and the men returned presently from their task, and I posted -the guards as before, confident that no traitor could pass while I was -on watch there.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER III.</span> <span class="smaller">A SHOT FROM THE WINDOW.</span></h2> - -<p>Whitestone and I held a small conference in the dark. Though regretting -that the matter had ended in such tragic way, we believed we had done -a great thing, and I am not loath to confess that I expected words of -approval the next day when we would take the news of it to the army. We -agreed that we must not relax our vigilance in the smallest particular, -for where there was one plot there might be a dozen. Whitestone went -down into the valley while I remained near the house.</p> - -<p>In my lonely watch I had great space for thought. I was grieved by my -discoveries in regard to Kate Van Auken. Of a truth she was nothing -to me, being betrothed, moreover, to Chudleigh the Englishman; but we -had been children together, and it was not pleasing to believe her a -patriot and find her a traitor. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> could get no sort of satisfaction -out of such thoughts, and turning them aside walked about with vigor in -an attempt to keep myself from becoming very sleepy.</p> - -<p>The moon was still showing herself, and I could see the house very -well. No light had appeared in it since our last withdrawal, but -looking very closely I saw what appeared to be a dark shadow at one of -the windows. I knew that room to be Mistress Kate’s, and I surmised -that she was there seeking to watch us. I resolved in return that I -would watch her. I stepped back where I would be sheltered by a tree -from her sight, and presently had my reward. The window was opened -gently and a head, which could be none other than that of Kate, was -thrust out a bit.</p> - -<p>I could see her quite well, even the features of her face. She was -looking very earnestly into the surrounding night, and of a truth -anxiety was writ plainly on her countenance. She stretched her head out -farther and examined all the space before the house. I was hidden from -her gaze, but down in a corner of the yard she could see the sentinel -pacing back and forth. She inspected him with much earnestness for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -some time, and then withdrew her head, closing the window.</p> - -<p>I was of the opinion that some further mischief was afoot or intended, -but the nature of it passed me. It seemed that what had happened -already was not a sufficient warning to them. I began to walk around -the house that I might keep a watch upon it from every point. -Sleepiness no longer oppressed me. In truth, I forgot all about it.</p> - -<p>I passed to the rear of the building and spoke to the sentinel -stationed in the yard there. He had seen nothing of suspicious nature -so far. I knew he was a faithful, watchful man, and that I could trust -him. I left him and pushed my way between two large flower bushes -growing very close together. Standing there, I beheld the opening of -another window in the house. Again the head of Mistress Kate appeared, -and precisely the same act as before was repeated. She looked about -with the intentness and anxiety of a military engineer studying his -ground. She saw the sentinel as she had seen his fellow before the -house, and her eyes rested long upon him. Her examination finished, she -withdrew, closing the window. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> - -<p>I set myself to deciphering the meaning of this, and of a sudden it -flashed upon me with such force that I believed myself stupid not to -have seen it before. Kate Van Auken herself was planning to go through -our lines with the news of Burgoyne’s plight. She was a bold girl, not -much afraid of the dark or the woods, and the venture was not beyond -her. The conviction of the truth depressed me. I felt some regard for -Kate Van Auken, whom I as a little boy had liked as a little girl, and -I had slight relish for this task of keeping watch upon her. Even now I -had caught her planning great harm to our cause.</p> - -<p>I confess that I scarce knew what to do. Perhaps it was my duty, if -the matter be considered in its utmost strictness, to arrest both the -women at once as dangerous to our cause, and send them to the army. But -such a course was quite beyond my resolution. I could not do it. Being -unable to decide upon anything else, I continued my watch, determined -that Mistress Kate should not escape from the house.</p> - -<p>The moon withdrew herself and then there was an increase of darkness. -Again I was thankful that I had been vigilant, for I saw a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> small -door in the rear of the house open. I could not doubt that it opened -to let forth Catherine Van Auken upon her traitorous errand. I made -my resolution upon the instant. If she came out, I would seize her -and compel her to return to the house in all quiet, in order that -Whitestone and the others might not know.</p> - -<p>My suspicions—my fears, in truth I may call them—were justified, for -in a few moments her well-known figure appeared in the doorway all -clothed about in a great dark cloak and hood, like one preparing for a -long night’s journey. I retreated a little, for it was my purpose to -draw her on and then catch her, when no doubt about her errand could -arise.</p> - -<p>She stood in the doorway for perhaps two minutes repeating her actions -at the window; that is, she looked around carefully to note how we were -watching. I could not see her face owing to the increase of darkness -and her attitude, but I had no doubt the same anxiety and eagerness -were writ there.</p> - -<p>Presently she seemed to arrange her dark draperies in a manner more -satisfactory and, stooping somewhat, came out of the house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> The -sentinel in this part of the yard was doing his duty and was as -watchful as could be, but he could scarce see this shadow gliding along -in the larger shadow of the rose bushes. I deemed it good fortune -that I was there to see and prevent the flight. I would face her and -confound her with the proof of her guilt.</p> - -<p>She came on quite rapidly, and I shrank a little farther back into the -rose bushes. Her course was directly toward me, and suddenly I rose -up in the path. I expected her to show great surprise and to cry out -after the fashion of women, but she did not. In truth I fancied I saw -a start, but that was all. In a moment she whirled about and fled back -toward the house with as little noise as the shadow she resembled. I -had scarce recovered my presence of mind when she was halfway to the -house, but I pursued in the effort to overtake her and confound her.</p> - -<p>I observed that when she came forth she had shut the door behind her, -but as she fled swiftly back it seemed to open of its own accord for -her entrance. She passed within, disappearing like a ghost, and the -door was shut with a snap almost in my face. I put my hands upon it -and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> found it was very real and substantial—perhaps a stout two inches -in thickness.</p> - -<p>I deliberated with myself for a moment or two and concluded to do -nothing further in the matter. Perhaps it had turned out as well as -might be, for I had stopped her errand, and her return, doubtless, had -released me from unpleasant necessities.</p> - -<p>I made no effort to force the door or to enter the house otherwise, but -visited the sentinels, telling them to be of good caution, though I -gave them no hint of what had happened.</p> - -<p>I found Whitestone in the valley sitting on a stump and sucking at -his pipe, which contained neither fire nor tobacco. He told me naught -unusual had happened there. I took him back to the house with me, and -together we watched about it until the coming of the day, without -further event of interest.</p> - -<p>Sunrise found my men and me very tired and sleepy, as we had a right -to be, having been on guard near to twenty-four hours, with some very -exciting things occurring in that long space. I awaited the relief -which must come soon, for we were not iron men. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> - -<p>The sun had scarce swung clear of the earth when a door of the house -was opened and Mistress Kate coming out, a pail in hand, walked lightly -toward the well. I approached her, and she greeted me with an unconcern -that amazed me.</p> - -<p>“I trust that you enjoyed your night watch, Master Shelby?” she said.</p> - -<p>“As well as was likely under the circumstances,” I replied. “I hope -that you slept soundly?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing disturbed us after your invasion of our house,” she said -with fine calmness. “Now, will you help me draw this water? Since the -approach of the armies there is no one left in the house save my mother -and myself, and we must cook and do for ourselves.”</p> - -<p>I helped draw the water, and even carried the filled pail to the house -for her, though she dismissed me at the door. But she atoned partly for -her scant courtesy by bringing us a little later some loaves of white -bread, which she said she had baked with her own hands, and which we -found to be very good.</p> - -<p>We had but finished breakfast when the soldiers who were to relieve us -came, and right glad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> were we to see them. They were followed a few -minutes later by the colonel in charge, to whom I related the affair -of Captain Martyn, and to whom I showed the order commanding us to -withdraw. He instantly pronounced it a forgery and commended us for -staying.</p> - -<p>“It was a traitorous attempt to get through our line,” he said, “but we -are none the worse off, for it has failed.”</p> - -<p>I said nothing of Kate Van Auken’s share in the conspiracy, but I told -him the women in the house inclined strongly to the Tory side.</p> - -<p>“I will see that the house is watched every moment of the day and -night,” he said.</p> - -<p>Then I felt easy in mind and went off to sleep.</p> - -<p>When I awoke it was about two by the sun, and the afternoon was fine. -I heard that fresh troops had arrived from the Massachusetts and New -Hampshire provinces in the morning, and the trap was closing down on -Burgoyne tighter than ever. Everybody said another great battle was -coming, and coming soon. Even then I heard the pop-pop of distant -skirmishing and saw an occasional red flash on the horizon.</p> - -<p>I was eager to be at the front, but such duty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> was not for me then. As -soon as I had eaten I was sent back with Sergeant Whitestone and the -same men to keep watch at precisely the same point.</p> - -<p>“Best take it easy,” said the sergeant consolingly. “If the big -battle’s fought while we’re away we can’t get killed in it.”</p> - -<p>Then he lighted the inevitable pipe, smoked, and was content.</p> - -<p>I questioned very closely the men whom we relieved near the house, -and they said there had been nothing to note. The elder woman had -never come out of the house, but the younger had been seen in the yard -several times, though she had naught to say, and seemed to be concerned -not at all about anything.</p> - -<p>I thought it best not to visit the house, and took my station with -Whitestone in the valley, disposing the men in much the same manner as -before. Whitestone puffed at his pipe with the usual regularity and -precision, but some of his taciturnity was gone. He was listening to -the sounds of the skirmishing which came to us fitfully.</p> - -<p>“The bees are stinging,” said he. Then he added, with a fine mixture of -metaphors: “The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> mouse is trying to feel his way out of the trap. The -big battle can’t be far off, for Burgoyne must know that every day lost -is a chance lost.”</p> - -<p>It seemed to me that he was right, and I regretted more than ever my -assignment to sentinel duty. I do not pretend to uncommon courage, but -every soldier will bear me out that such waiting as we were doing is -more trying than real battle.</p> - -<p>Of a sudden the skirmishing seemed to take on an increase of vigor and -to come nearer. Flashes appeared at various points on the horizon. -Whitestone became deeply interested. He stood at his full height on a -stump, and I would have done likewise had there been another stump. -Presently he leaped down, exclaiming:</p> - -<p>“I fancy there is work for us!”</p> - -<p>I saw at once what he meant. A dozen men were coming down the valley -at full speed. The bright sun even at the distance brought out the -scarlet of their uniforms, and there was no mistaking the side to which -they belonged. Evidently a party of Burgoyne’s skirmishers had slipped -through our main line somehow and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> were bent upon escape southward, -with all its momentous consequences.</p> - -<p>That escape we would prevent. I sent Whitestone in a run to the two men -near the house to bid them take refuge behind it and fight from its -shelter. He was back in a breath, and he and I and the other soldiers -prepared to hold the passage of the valley. Most fortunate for us, a -rail fence ran across this valley, and we took refuge behind it—a wise -precaution, I think, since the approaching party outnumbered us.</p> - -<p>All of ours, except myself, had rifles, and I carried two good pistols, -with which I am no bad shot. The British came on with much speed. Two -of them were mounted.</p> - -<p>I glanced toward the house. At one of the windows I saw a figure. I -trusted if it was Kate Van Auken that she would withdraw speedily from -such an exposed place. But I had no time to note her presence further, -for just then the British seemed to perceive that we barred the way, -for they stopped as if hesitating. I suppose they saw us, as we were -sheltered but in part by the fence.</p> - -<p>Wishing to spare bloodshed I shouted to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> them to surrender, but one of -the men on horseback shook his head, said something to the others, and -they dashed toward us at all speed. I recognized this man who appeared -to be their leader. He was Chudleigh, the Englishman, the betrothed of -Kate Van Auken, and, so far as I knew, an honest, presentable fellow.</p> - -<p>Whitestone poised his rifle on the top rail of the fence and I surmised -that it was aimed at Chudleigh. Were the matter not so desperate I -could have wished for a miss. But before Whitestone pulled the trigger -one of the men from the shelter of the house fired, and Chudleigh’s -horse, struck by the ball intended for his master, went down, tossing -Chudleigh some distance upon the ground, where he lay quite still. -Whitestone transferred his aim and knocked the other mounted man off -his horse.</p> - -<p>The remainder, not daunted by the warmth of our greeting and the loss -of their cavalry, raised a cheer and rushed at us, firing their pistols -and muskets.</p> - -<p>I do not scorn a skirmish. It may, and often does, contain more heat to -the square yard than a great battle with twenty thousand men engaged. -These men bore down upon us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> full of resolution. Their bullets pattered -upon the rails of the fence, chipping off splinters. Some went between -the rails and whizzed by us in fashion most uncomfortable. One man -cried out a bit as the lead took him in the fleshy part of the leg, but -he did not shrink from the onset.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile we were not letting the time pass without profit, but fired -at them with as much rapidity and aim as we could. The two men at the -corner of the house helped us much with fine sharpshooting.</p> - -<p>Our fortification, though but slender, gave us a great advantage, and -nearly a third of their number had fallen before they were within a -dozen feet of the fence. But it was our business not only to defeat -them but to keep any from passing us. I was hopeful of doing this, for -the sound of the firing had reached other portions of the line, and I -saw re-enforcements for us coming on the run.</p> - -<p>Our fire had been so hot that the British when within a dozen feet of -us shrank back. Of a sudden one of them, a very active fellow, swerved -to one side, darted at the fence, and leaping it with a single bound -ran lightly along<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> the hillside. I called to Whitestone and we followed -him at all speed. I was confident that the others would be taken by our -re-enforcements, who were coming up fast, and this man who had passed -our line must be caught at all hazards.</p> - -<p>One of my men at the house fired at the fugitive, but missed. My -pistols were empty, and so was Whitestone’s rifle. It was a matter -which fleetness would decide and we made every effort.</p> - -<p>The fugitive curved toward a wood back of the house, and we followed. -I heard a rifle shot from a new direction, and Whitestone staggered; -but in a moment he recovered himself, saying it was only a flesh wound. -I was amazed, not at the shot but at the point from which it came. I -looked up, and it was no mistake of hearing, for there was the white -puff of smoke rising from an upper window in the house. It was but the -glance of a moment, as the fugitive then claimed my attention. His -speed was slackening and he seemed to be growing very tired.</p> - -<p>A little blood appeared on Whitestone’s arm near the shoulder, but he -gave no other sign<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> that the wound affected him. Our man increased his -speed a bit, but the effort exhausted him; he stopped of a sudden, -dropped to the earth, and lay there panting, strength and breath quite -gone.</p> - -<p>We ran up to him and demanded his surrender. He was too much exhausted -to speak, but he nodded as if he were glad the thing was over. We let -him rest until his breath came back. Then he climbed to his feet, and, -looking at us, said in the fashion of one defending himself:</p> - -<p>“I did the best I could; you can’t say I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you did,” I replied. “You went farther than any of your -comrades.”</p> - -<p>He was a most likely young fellow, not more than twenty, I should say, -and I was very glad he had come out of the affair unhurt. We took him -back to the valley, where the conflict was over. Our re-enforcements -had come up so fast that the remainder of the British surrendered after -a few shots. All the prisoners were delivered to one of our captains -who had arrived, and he took them away. Then I turned my attention to -Whitestone. Having some small<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> knowledge of surgery, I asked him to let -me see his arm. He held it out without a word.</p> - -<p>I pushed up his sleeve and found that the bullet had cut only a little -below the skin. I bound up the scratch with a piece of old white cloth, -and said:</p> - -<p>“You needn’t bother about that, Whitestone; the bullet that cut it -wasn’t very well aimed.”</p> - -<p>“It was aimed pretty well, I think, for a woman,” he said.</p> - -<p>“You won’t say any more about that, Whitestone, will you?” I asked -quietly.</p> - -<p>“Not to anybody unless to you,” he replied.</p> - -<p>There was a faint smile on his face that I did not altogether like; but -he thrust his hand into the inside pocket of his waistcoat, took out -his pipe, lighted the tobacco with great deliberation, and began to -smoke as if nothing had happened.</p> - -<p>The prisoners taken away and other signs of conflict removed, we were -left to our old duty, and hill and hollow resumed their quiet. I -was much troubled, but at last I made up my mind what to do. Asking -Whitestone to keep a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> good watch, I went to the house and knocked with -much loudness at the front door. Kate opened the door, self-possessed -and dignified.</p> - -<p>“Miss Van Auken,” I said with all my dignity, “I congratulate you upon -your progress in the useful art of sharpshooting. You have wounded -Sergeant Whitestone, a most excellent man, and perhaps it was chance -only that saved him from death.”</p> - -<p>“Why should you blame me?” she said. “I wished the man you were -pursuing to escape, and there was no other way to help him. This is -war, you know.”</p> - -<p>I had scarce expected so frank an admission.</p> - -<p>“I will have to search the house for your weapon,” I said. “How do I -know that you will not shoot at me as I go away?”</p> - -<p>“Do not trouble yourself,” she said easily, “I will bring it to you.”</p> - -<p>She ran up the stairway and returned in a moment with a large, unloaded -pistol, which she held out to me.</p> - -<p>“I might have tried to use it again,” she said with a little laugh, -“but I confess I did not know how to reload it.”</p> - -<p>She handed me the pistol with a gesture<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> of repulsion as if she were -glad to get rid of it. Her frankness changed my purpose somewhat, and I -asked her how her mother fared.</p> - -<p>“Very well, but in most dreadful alarm because of the fighting,” she -replied.</p> - -<p>“It would be best for both of you, for your own safety, to remain in -the house and keep the windows closed,” I said.</p> - -<p>“So I think,” she replied.</p> - -<p>I turned away, for I wished to think further what disposition to -make of Kate Van Auken and her mother. It seemed that they should -remain no longer at such a critical point of our line, where in an -unwatched moment they might do us a great evil. Moreover, I was much -inflamed against Kate because of the treacherous shot which had come -so near to ending Whitestone’s career. But even then I sought for some -mitigating circumstance, some excuse for her. Perhaps her family had so -long worked upon her that her own natural and patriotic feelings had -become perverted to such an extent that she looked upon the shot as a -righteous deed. Cases like it were not new.</p> - -<p>I thought it best to take Whitestone into my confidence. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> - -<p>“We can not do anything to-day,” he said, “for none of us can leave -here; but it would be well to keep a good watch upon that house again -to-night.”</p> - -<p>This advice seemed good, for like as not Kate Van Auken, not at all -daunted by her failure, would make another attempt to escape southward.</p> - -<p>Therefore with much interest I waited the coming of our second night -there, which was but a brief time away.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IV.</span> <span class="smaller">OUT OF THE HOUSE.</span></h2> - -<p>The night came on and I was uneasy. Many things disturbed me. The house -was a sore spot in my mind, and with the dusk the signs of battle -seemed to increase. Upon this dark background the flashes from the -skirmishing grew in size and intensity. From under the horizon’s rim -came the deep murmur of the artillery. I knew that Burgoyne was feeling -his way, and more than ever it was impressed upon me that either he -would break out soon or we would close in upon him and crush him. -The faint pop-pop of the distant rifles was like the crackling that -precedes the conflagration.</p> - -<p>To the south there was peace, apparent peace, but I knew Burgoyne must -turn his face hopefully many a time that way, for if rescue came at all -it must come thence.</p> - -<p>“Another day nearer the shutting of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> trap,” said Whitestone, -walking up and down with his arm in a sling. I found that he could -manage his pipe as well with one hand as with two.</p> - -<p>The night was darker than usual, for which I was sorry, as it was -against us and in favor of the others. Again asking Whitestone to stand -sponsor for the hollow, I approached the house. I had repeated my -precautions of the day before, placing one sentinel in front of it and -another behind it. But in the darkness two men could be passed, and I -would watch with them.</p> - -<p>From the hill top the flashes of the skirmishing seemed to multiply, -and for a few moments I forgot the house that I might watch them. Even -I, who had no part in the councils of my generals and elders, knew how -much all this meant to us, and the intense anxiety with which every -patriot heart awaited the result. More than ever I regretted my present -duty.</p> - -<p>The house was dark, but I felt sure in my heart that Kate would make -another attempt to escape us. Why should she wait?</p> - -<p>I thought it my best plan to walk in an endless circle around the -house; it would keep sleep away and give me the greater chance to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -anything that might happen. It was but dull and tiresome work at the -best. Around and around I walked, stopping once in a while to speak to -my sentinels. Time was so slow that it seemed to me the night ought to -have passed, when the size of the moon showed that it was not twelve.</p> - -<p>I expected Kate to look from the windows again and spy out the ground -before making the venture; so I kept faithful watch upon them, but -found no reward for such vigilance and attention. Her face did not -appear; no light sparkled from the house. Perhaps after her failures -her courage had sunk. Certainly the time for her venture, if venture -she would make, was passing.</p> - -<p>As I continued my perpetual circle I approached the beat of the -sentinel who was stationed behind the house. I saw him sooner than I -expected; he had come farther toward the side of the house than his -orders permitted him to do, and I was preparing to rebuke him when I -noticed of a sudden that he seemed to be without his rifle. The next -moment his figure disappeared from me like the shadow of something that -had never been. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> - -<p>Twenty yards away I saw the sentinel, upright, stiff, rifle on -shoulder, no thought but of his duty. I knew the first figure was -that of Kate Van Auken, and not of the sentinel. How she had escaped -from the house unseen I did not know and it was no time to stop for -inquiry. I stepped among the trees, marking as closely as I could that -particular blotch of blackness into which she had disappeared, and I -had reward, for again I saw her figure, more like shadow than substance.</p> - -<p>I might have shouted to the sentinels and raised hue and cry, but I -had reasons—very good, it seemed to me—for not doing so. Moreover, I -needed no assistance. Surely I could hold myself sufficient to capture -one girl. She knew the grounds well, but I also knew them. I had played -over them often enough.</p> - -<p>The belt of woods began about fifty yards back of the house, and was -perhaps the same number of yards in breadth. But the trees seemed not -to hinder her speed. She curved lightly among them with the readiness -of perfect acquaintance, and I was sure that the elation coming from -what she believed to be escape was quickening her flight. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> - -<p>She passed through the trees and into the stretch of open ground -beyond. Then for the first time she looked back and saw me. At least I -believe she saw me, for she seemed to start, and her cloak fluttered as -she began to run with great speed.</p> - -<p>A hundred yards farther was a rail fence, and beyond that a stretch of -corn land. With half a leap and half a climb, very remarkable in woman, -who is usually not expert in such matters, she scaled this fence in a -breath and was among the cornstalks. I feared that she might elude me -there, but I, too, was over the fence in a trice and kept her figure in -view. She had shown much more endurance than I expected, though I knew -she was a strong girl. But we had come a good half mile, and few women -can run at speed so far.</p> - -<p>She led me a chase through the cornfield and then over another fence -into a pasture. I noted with pleasure that I was gaining all the time. -In truth, I had enjoyed so much exercise of this kind in the last day -that I ought to have been in a fair way of becoming an expert.</p> - -<p>Our course lengthened to a mile and I was within fifteen yards of her. -Despite my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>general disrelish for the position I felt a certain grim -joy in being the man to stop her plans, inasmuch as she had deceived me -more perhaps than any one else.</p> - -<p>It was evident that I could overtake her, and I hailed her, demanding -that she stop. For reply she whirled about and fired a pistol at me, -and then, seeing that she had missed, made an effort to run faster.</p> - -<p>I was astounded. I confess it even after all that had happened—but -she had fired at Whitestone before; now she was firing at me. I would -stop this fierce woman, not alone for the good of our cause, but for -the revenge her disappointment would be to me. The feeling gave me -strength, and in five minutes more I could almost reach out my hands -and touch her.</p> - -<p>“Stop!” I shouted in anger.</p> - -<p>She whirled about again and struck at me, full strength, with the butt -of her pistol. I might have suffered a severe, perhaps a stunning, -blow, but by instinct I threw up my right hand, and her wrist gliding -off it the pistol struck nothing, dashing with its own force from her -hand. I warded off another swift blow aimed with the left fist, and -then saw that I stood face to face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> not with Kate Van Auken but with -her brother Albert.</p> - -<p>There was a look upon his face of mingled shame and determination. How -could he escape shame with his sister’s skirts around him and her hood -upon his head?</p> - -<p>My own feelings were somewhat mixed in character. First, there was a -sensation of great relief, so quick I had not time to make analysis, -and then there came over me a strong desire to laugh. I submit that the -sight of a man caught in woman’s dress and ashamed of it is fair cause -for mirth.</p> - -<p>It was dark, but not too dark for me to see his face redden at my look.</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to fight it out with me,” he said, very stiff and haughty.</p> - -<p>“I purpose to do it,” I said, “but perhaps your clothes may be in your -way.”</p> - -<p>He snatched the hood off his head and hurled it into the bushes; then -with another angry pull he ripped the skirt off, and, casting it to one -side stood forth in proper man’s attire, though that of a citizen and -not of the British soldier that he was.</p> - -<p>He confronted me, very angry. I did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> think of much at that moment -save how wonderfully his face was like his sister Kate’s. I had never -taken such thorough note of it before, though often the opportunity was -mine.</p> - -<p>Our pause had given him breath, and he stood awaiting my attack like -one who fights with his fists in the ring. My loaded pistol was in my -belt, but he did not seem to think that I would use it; nor did I think -of it myself. His, unloaded, lay on the ground. I advanced upon him, -and with his right fist he struck very swiftly at my face. I thrust my -head to one side and the blow glanced off the hard part of it, leaving -his own face unprotected. I could have dealt him a heavy return blow -that would have made his face look less like his sister Kate’s, but I -preferred to close with him and seize him in my grasp.</p> - -<p>Though lighter than I he was agile, and sought to trip me, or by some -dexterous turn otherwise to gain advantage of me. But I was wary, -knowing full well that I ought to be so, and presently I brought him -down in a heap, falling upon him with such force that he lay a few -moments as if stunned, though it was but the breath knocked out of him.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Do you give up?” I asked, when he had returned to speaking condition.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he replied. “You were always too strong for me, Dick.”</p> - -<p>Which was true, for there never was a time, even when we were little -boys, when I could not throw him, though I do not say it as a boast, -since there were others who could throw me.</p> - -<p>“Do you make complete and unconditional surrender to me as the sole -present representative of the American army, and promise to make no -further effort to escape?” asked I, somewhat amazed at the length of my -own words, and a little proud of them too.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Dick, confound it! Get off my chest! How do you expect me to -breathe?” he replied with a somewhat unreasonable show of temper.</p> - -<p>I dismounted and he sat up, thumping his chest and drawing very long -breaths as if he wished to be sure that everything was right inside. -When he had finished his examination, which seemed to be satisfactory, -he said:</p> - -<p>“I’m your prisoner, Dick. What do you intend to do with me?”</p> - -<p>“Blessed if I know,” I replied. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> - -<p>In truth, I did not. He was in citizens’ clothes, and he had been -lurking inside our lines for at least a day or so. If I gave him up to -our army, as my duty bade me to do, he might be shot, which would be -unpleasant to me as well as to him for various reasons. If I let him go -he might ruin us.</p> - -<p>“Suppose you think it over while I rest,” he said. “A man can’t run a -mile and then fight a big fellow like you without getting pretty tired.”</p> - -<p>In a few minutes I made up my mind. It was not a way out of the matter, -but it was the only thing I could think of for the present.</p> - -<p>“Get up, Albert,” I said.</p> - -<p>He rose obediently.</p> - -<p>“You came out of that house unseen,” I resumed, “and I want you to go -back into it unseen. Do exactly as I say. I’m thinking of you as well -as of myself.”</p> - -<p>He seemed to appreciate the consideration and followed close behind me -as I took my way toward the house. I had no fear that he would attempt -escape. Albert was always a fellow of honor, though I could never -account for the perversion of his political opinions. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<p>He walked back slowly. I kept as good a lookout as I could in the -darkness. It was barely possible that I would meet Whitestone prowling -about, and that was not what I wanted.</p> - -<p>“Albert,” I asked, “why did you shoot at Whitestone from the house? I -can forgive your shooting at me, for that was in fair and open strife.”</p> - -<p>“Dick,” he said so earnestly that I could not but believe him, “to tell -you the truth, I feel some remorse about the shot, but the man you were -pursuing was Trevannion of ours, my messmate, and such a fine fellow -that I knew only one other whom I’d rather see get through with the -news of our plight, and that’s myself. I couldn’t resist trying to help -him. Suppose we say no more about it; let it pass.”</p> - -<p>“It’s Whitestone’s affair, not mine,” I said. I was not making any -plans to tell Whitestone about it.</p> - -<p>When we came to the edge of the wood behind the house I told him to -stop. Going forward, I sent the sentinel to the other side of the -building, telling him to watch there with his comrade for a little, -while I took his place. As soon as his figure disappeared behind the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>corner of the house Albert came forward and we hurried to the side -door. We knocked lightly upon it and it was promptly opened by his -sister. I could guess the anxiety and dread with which she was waiting -lest she should hear sounds which would tell of an interrupted flight, -and the distress with which she would see us again. Nor was I deceived. -When she beheld us standing there in the dark, her lips moved as if she -could scarce repress the cry that rose.</p> - -<p>I spoke first.</p> - -<p>“Take him back in the house,” I said, “and keep him there until you -hear from me. Hurry up, Albert!”</p> - -<p>Albert stepped in.</p> - -<p>“And don’t forget this,” I continued, for I could not wholly forgive -him, “if you shoot at me or Whitestone or anybody else, I’ll see you -hanged as a spy, if I have to do it myself.”</p> - -<p>They quickly closed the door, and recalling the sentinel, I went in -search of Whitestone.</p> - -<p>I had some notion of confiding in Whitestone, but, after thought, I -concluded I had best not, at least not fully.</p> - -<p>I found him walking up and down in the valley. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Whitestone,” I said, “do me a favor? if anybody asks you how you got -that scratch on your arm, tell him it was in the skirmish, and you -don’t know who fired the shot.”</p> - -<p>He considered a moment.</p> - -<p>“I’ll do it,” he said, “if you’ll agree to do as much for me, first -chance.”</p> - -<p>I promised, and, that matter off my mind, tried to think of a plan to -get Albert out of the house and back to his own army unseen by any of -ours. Thinking thus, the night passed away.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER V.</span> <span class="smaller">MY SUPERIOR OFFICER.</span></h2> - -<p>The relief came early in the morning, bringing with it the news that -our army, which was stronger every day than on the yesterday, had moved -still closer to Burgoyne. My blood thrilled as ever at this, but I had -chosen a new course of action for myself. It would be an evil turn for -me if Albert Van Auken were taken at the house and should run the risk -of execution as a spy; it might be said that I was the chief cause of -it.</p> - -<p>I was very tired, and stretching myself on the turf beneath the shade -of a tree in the valley, I fell into a sound sleep in two minutes. When -I awoke at the usual time I found that the guard had been re-enforced, -and, what was worse, instead of being first in command I was now only -second. This in itself was disagreeable, but the character of the man -who had supplanted me was a further annoyance. I knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> Lieutenant -Belt quite well, a New Englander much attached to our cause, but of a -prying disposition and most suspicious. The re-enforcements had been -sent because of the previous attempt to break through the line at this -point, the lay of the ground being such that it was more favorable for -plans of escape than elsewhere.</p> - -<p>“You need not stay unless you wish,” said Belt. “No positive -instructions were given on that point. As for myself, I confess I would -rather be with the army, since much is likely to happen there soon.”</p> - -<p>“I think things will drag for some time yet,” I said with as careless -an air as I could assume, “and I suspect that they have been more -active here than they are with the army. Another attempt to break -through our line may be made at this point, and I believe I’d rather -remain for a day or two.”</p> - -<p>But just then, as if for the sole purpose of belying my words about -dullness at the front, there was a sharp crackle of distant skirmishing -and the red flare of a cannon appeared on the horizon. It called the -attention of both of us for a moment or two. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The bullets appear to be flying over there, but if you prefer to -remain here, of course you can have your wish,” said Belt with sarcasm.</p> - -<p>I did not answer, as no good excuse happened to my mind, and we -went up the hillside together. I looked about carefully to see what -arrangements he had made, but it was merely a doubling of the guard. -Otherwise he had followed my dispositions. Belt looked at the house.</p> - -<p>“I hear that some people are there. Who are they?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Only two,” I replied, “women both—Madame Van Auken and her daughter.”</p> - -<p>“For us, or against us?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Against us,” I replied. “The son and brother is in the English army -with Burgoyne, over there; moreover, the daughter is betrothed to an -Englishman who has just been taken prisoner by us.”</p> - -<p>I thought it best to make no disguise of these matters.</p> - -<p>“That looks suspicious,” he said, his hawk face brightening at the -thought of hidden things to be found.</p> - -<p>“They might do us harm if they could,” I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> said, “but they have not the -power. Our lines surround the house; no one save ourselves can go to -them, nor can they go to any one.”</p> - -<p>“Still, I would like to go through the house,” he said, some doubt yet -showing in his tone.</p> - -<p>“I have searched it twice and found nothing,” I said indifferently.</p> - -<p>He let the matter drop for the time and busied himself with an -examination of the ground; but I knew he was most likely to take it up -again, for he could not suppress his prying nature. I would have been -glad to give warning to Kate, but I could think of no way to do it.</p> - -<p>“Who is the best man that you have here?” he asked presently.</p> - -<p>“Whitestone—Sergeant Whitestone,” I replied, glad to place the -sergeant in his confidence, for it might turn out to my advantage. -“There is none more vigilant, and you can depend upon all that he says.”</p> - -<p>We separated there, our work taking us in different directions. When -we returned to the valley, which we had made a kind of headquarters, I -heard him asking Whitestone about the Van Aukens. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Tartars, both of ’em,” said the good sergeant; “if you go in there, -leftenant, they’ll scold you till they take your face off.”</p> - -<p>The look on Belt’s face was proof that not even Whitestone’s warning -would deter him. At least it so seemed to me. In a half hour I -found that I had judged aright. He told me he was not in a state of -satisfaction about the house, and since the responsibility for it lay -with him he proposed to make a search of it in person. He requested me -to go with him.</p> - -<p>“This seems to be the main entrance,” he said, leading the way to the -portico, which faced the north, and looking about with very inquiring -eyes. “Madame Van Auken and her daughter must be much frightened by the -presence of troops, for I have not yet seen the face of either at door -or window.”</p> - -<p>He knocked loudly at the door with the hilt of his sword, and Kate -appeared, very calm as usual. I made the introductions as politely as I -was able.</p> - -<p>“Lieutenant Belt is my senior, Miss Van Auken,” I said, “and therefore -has superseded me in command of the guard at this point.”</p> - -<p>“Then I trust that Lieutenant Belt will <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>relax some of the rigors of -the watch,” she said, “and not subject us to the great discomfort of -repeated searches of our house.”</p> - -<p>She turned her shoulder to me as if she would treat me with the -greatest coldness. I understood her procedure, and marveled much at her -presence of mind. It seemed to be successful too, for Belt smiled, and -looked ironically at me, like one who rejoices in the mishap of his -comrade.</p> - -<p>She took us into the house, talking with much courtesy to Belt, and -ignoring me in a manner that I did not altogether like, even with the -knowledge that it was but assumption. She led us into the presence of -madame, her mother, who looked much worn with care, though preserving -a haughty demeanor. As usual, she complained that our visits were -discourtesies, and Belt apologized in his best manner. Glad that the -brunt did not now fall upon me, I deemed it best to keep silence, which -I did in most complete manner.</p> - -<p>Madame invited us to search the house as we pleased, and we took her at -her word, finding nothing. I was much relieved thereat. I had feared -that Albert, knowing I would not make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> another search so long as I was -in command, would not be in proper concealment. With my relief was -mingled a certain perplexity that his place of hiding should evade me.</p> - -<p>Belt was a gentleman despite his curiosity, which I believe the New -England people can not help, and for which, therefore, they are not -to be blamed, and when he had finished the vain quest he apologized -again to Madame Van Auken and her daughter for troubling them. He was -impressed by the fine looks of the daughter, and he made one or two -gallant speeches to her which she received very well, as I notice women -mostly do whatever may be the circumstances. I felt some anger toward -Belt, though there seemed to be no cause for it. When we left the house -he said:</p> - -<p>“Miss Van Auken doesn’t look so dangerous, yet you say she is a red-hot -Tory.”</p> - -<p>“I merely included her in a generality,” I replied. “The others of the -family are strong Tories, but Miss Van Auken, I have reason to think, -inclines to our cause.”</p> - -<p>“That is good,” he said, though he gave no reason why it should seem -good to him. After that he turned his attention to his main duty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -examining here and there and displaying the most extreme vigilance. The -night found him still prowling about.</p> - -<p>Directly after nightfall the weather turned very cool in that -unaccountable way it sometimes has in the late summer or early autumn, -and began to rain.</p> - -<p>It was a most cold and discouraging rain that hunted every hole in our -worn uniforms, and displayed a peculiar knack of slipping down our -collars. I found myself seeking the shelter of trees, and as the cold -bit into the marrow my spirits drooped until I felt like an old man. -Even the distant skirmishers were depressed by the rainy night, for the -shots ceased and the hills and the valleys were as silent and lonely as -ever they were before the white man came.</p> - -<p>I was thinking it was a very long and most dismal night before us, -when I heard a chattering of teeth near me, and turning about saw Belt -in pitiable condition. He was all drawn with the cold damp, and his -face looked as shriveled as if it were seventy instead of twenty-five. -Moreover, he was shaking in a chill. I had noticed before that the man -did not look robust. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> - -<p>“This is a little hard on me, Shelby,” he said, his tone asking -sympathy. “I have but lately come from a sick-bed, and I fear greatly -this rain will throw me into a fever.”</p> - -<p>He looked very longingly at the house.</p> - -<p>I fear there was some malice in me then, for he had put aspersions upon -my courage earlier in the day, which perhaps he had a right to do, not -knowing my secret motives.</p> - -<p>“The weather is a trifle bad, one must admit, lieutenant,” I said, “but -you and I will not mind it; moreover, the darkness of the night demands -greater vigilance on our part.”</p> - -<p>He said nothing, merely rattled his teeth together and walked on with -what I admit was a brave show for a man shaking in a bad chill. As his -assistant I could go and come pretty much as I chose, and I kept him in -view, bent on seeing what he would do.</p> - -<p>He endured the chill most handsomely for quite a time, but the wet and -the cold lent aggravation to it, and presently he turned to me, his -teeth clicking together in most formidable fashion.</p> - -<p>“I fear, Shelby, that I must seek shelter in the house,” he said. “I -would stick to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> watch out here, but this confounded chill has me in -its grip and will not let go. But, as you have done good work here and -I would not seem selfish, you shall go in with me.”</p> - -<p>I understood his motive, which was to provide that in case he should -incur censure for going into the house, I could share it and divide it -with him. It was no very admirable action on Belt’s part, but I minded -it not; in truth I rather liked it, for since he was to be in the -house, I preferred to be there too, and at the same time, and not for -matters concerning my health. I decided quickly that I must seem his -friend and give him sympathy; in truth I was not his enemy at all; I -merely found him inconvenient.</p> - -<p>We went again to the front door and knocked many times before any -answer came to us. Then two heads—the one of Mistress Kate, the -other of her mother—were thrust out of an upper window and the usual -question was propounded to us.</p> - -<p>“Lieutenant Belt is very ill,” I said, taking the word from his lips, -“and needs must have shelter from the cruelty of the night. We would -not trouble you were not the case extreme.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<p>I could see that Belt was grateful for the way I had put the matter. -Presently they opened the door, both appearing there for the sake of -company at that hour, I suppose. Belt tried to preserve an appearance -in the presence of the ladies, but he was too sick. He trembled with -his chill like a sapling in a high wind, and I said:</p> - -<p>“Lieutenant Belt’s condition speaks for itself; nothing else could have -induced us to intrude upon you at such an untimely hour.”</p> - -<p>I fancy I said that well, and both Madame Van Auken and her daughter -showed pity for Belt; yet the elder could not wholly repress a display -of feeling against us.</p> - -<p>“We can not turn any one ill, not even an enemy, away from our door,” -she said, “but I fear the rebel armies have left us little for the uses -of hospitality.”</p> - -<p>She said this in the stiff and rather precise way that our fathers and -mothers affected, but she motioned for us to come in, and we obeyed -her. I confess I was rather glad to enter the dry room, for my clothes -were flapping wet about me.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps the lieutenant would like to lie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> down,” said Madame Van -Auken, pointing to a large and comfortable sofa in the corner of the -room that we had entered.</p> - -<p>But Belt was too proud to do that, though it was needful to him. He sat -down merely and continued to shiver. Mistress Kate came presently with -a large draught of hot whisky and water which smelled most savorously. -She insisted that Belt drink it, and he swallowed it all, leaving none -for me. Madame Van Auken placed a lighted candle upon a little table, -and then both the ladies withdrew.</p> - -<p>Belt said he felt better, but he had a most wretched appearance. I -insisted that he let me feel his pulse, and I found he was bordering -upon a high fever, and most likely, if precautions were not taken, -would soon be out of his senses. The wet clothes were the chief -trouble, and I said they must come off. Belt demurred for a while, but -he consented at last when I told him persistent refusal might mean his -death.</p> - -<p>I roused up the ladies again, explaining the cause of this renewed -interruption, and secured from them their sympathy and a large -bedquilt. I made Belt take off his uniform, and then I spread the quilt -over him as he lay on the sofa,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> telling him to go to sleep. He said he -had no such intention; but a second hot draught of whisky which Kate -brought to the door gave him the inclination, if not the intention. But -he fought against it, and his will was aided by the sudden revival of -sounds which betokened that the skirmishing had begun again. Through -the window I heard the faint patter of rifles, but the shots were too -distant, or the night too dark to disclose the flash. This sudden -spurt of warlike activity told me once again that the great crisis was -approaching fast, and I hoped most earnestly that events at the Van -Auken house would culminate first.</p> - -<p>Belt was still struggling against weakness and sleep, and he complained -fretfully when he heard the rifle shots, bemoaning his fate to be -seized by a wretched, miserable chill at such a time.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps after all the battle may be fought without me,” said he with -unintended humor.</p> - -<p>I assured him that he would be all right in the morning. His resistance -to sleep, I told him, was his own injury, for it was needful to his -health. He took me at my word and let his eyelids droop. I foresaw that -he would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> asleep very soon, but he roused up a bit presently and -showed anxiety about the guard. He wanted to be sure that everything -was done right, and asked me to go out and see Whitestone, whom we had -left in charge when we entered the house.</p> - -<p>I was averse in no particular and slipped quietly out into the -darkness. I found Whitestone in the valley.</p> - -<p>“All quiet,” he reported. “I’ve just come from a round of the sentinels -and there’s nothing suspicious. I’m going back myself presently to -watch in front of the house.”</p> - -<p>I knew Whitestone would ask no questions, so I told him the lieutenant -was still very ill and I would return to him; I did not know how long -I would stay in the house, I said. Whitestone, like the good, silent -fellow he was, made no reply.</p> - -<p>I returned to the front door. I was now learning the way into the house -very well. I had traveled it often enough. I stood for a moment in -the little portico, which was as clean and white as if washed by the -sea. The rain had nearly ceased to fall, and the blaze of the distant -skirmishing suddenly flared up on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> dark horizon like a forest fire. -I wondered not that the two women in the house should be moved by all -this; I wondered rather at their courage. In the yard stood Whitestone, -his figure rising up as stiff and straight as a post.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VI.</span> <span class="smaller">BELT’S GHOST.</span></h2> - -<p>I found Belt fast asleep. The two draughts of whisky, heavy and hot, -had been a blanket to his senses, and he had gone off for a while to -another world to think and to struggle still, for he muttered and -squirmed in his restless slumber. His hand when I touched it was yet -hot with fever. He might, most likely would, be better when he awoke in -the morning, but he would be flat aback the remainder of the night. He -could conduct no further search in that house before the next day.</p> - -<p>I was uncertain what to do, whether to remain there with Belt or go out -and help Whitestone with the watch. Duty to our cause said the latter, -but in truth other voices are sometimes as loud as that of duty. I -listened to one of the other.</p> - -<p>I drew a chair near to Belt’s couch and sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> down. He was still -muttering in his hot, sweaty sleep like one with anger at things, and -now and then threw out his long thin legs and arms. He looked like a -man tied down trying to escape.</p> - -<p>The candle still burned on the table, but its light was feeble at best. -Shadows filled the corners of the room. I like sick-bed watches but -little, and least of all such as that. They make me feel as if I had -lost my place in a healthy world. To such purpose was I thinking when -Belt sat up with a suddenness that made me start, and cried in a voice -cracked with fever:</p> - -<p>“Shelby, are you there?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m here,” I replied with a cheeriness that I did not feel. “Lie -down and go to sleep, lieutenant, or you’ll be a week getting well.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t go to sleep, and I haven’t been to sleep,” he said, raising -his voice, which had a whistling note of illness in it.</p> - -<p>His eyes sparkled, and I could see that the machinery of his head was -working badly. I took him by the shoulders with intent to force him -down upon the couch; but he threw me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> off with sudden energy that took -me by surprise.</p> - -<p>“Let me go,” he said, “till I say what I want to say.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what is it?” I asked, thinking to pacify him.</p> - -<p>“Shelby,” said he, belief showing all over his face, “I’ve seen a -ghost!”</p> - -<p>A strong desire to laugh was upon me, but I did not let it best me, for -I had respect for Belt, who was my superior officer. I don’t believe in -ghosts; they never come to see me.</p> - -<p>“You’re sick, and you’ve been dreaming, lieutenant,” I said. “Go to -sleep.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll try to go to sleep,” he replied, “but what I say is truth, and -I’ve seen a ghost.”</p> - -<p>“What did it look like?” I asked, remembering that it is best to fall -in with the humor of mad people.</p> - -<p>“Like a woman,” he replied, “and that’s all I can say on that point, -for this cursed fever has drawn a veil over my eyes. I had shut them, -trying to go to sleep, but something kept pulling my eyelids apart, and -open they came again; there was the ghost, the ghost of a woman; it had -come through the wall, I suppose. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> floated all around the room as -if it were looking for something, but not making a breath of a noise, -like a white cloud sailing through the air. I tell you, Shelby, I was -in fear, for I had never believed in such things, and I had laughed at -them.”</p> - -<p>“What became of the ghost?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“It went away just like it came, through the wall, I guess,” said Belt. -“All I know is that I saw it, and then I didn’t. And I want you to stay -with me, Shelby; don’t leave me!”</p> - -<p>This time I laughed, and on purpose. I wanted to chirk Belt up a bit, -and I thought I could do it by ridiculing such a fever dream. But I -could not shake the conviction in him. Instead, his temper took heat -at my lack of faith. Then I affected to believe, which soothed him, -and exhaustion falling upon him I saw that either he would slumber -again or weakness would steal his senses. I thought to ease his mind, -and told him everything outside was going well; that Whitestone was -the best sentinel in the world, and not even a lizard could creep past -him though the night might be black as coal. Whereat he smiled, and -presently turning over on his side began to mutter,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> by which I knew -that a hot sleep was again laying hold of him.</p> - -<p>After the rain it had turned very warm again, and I opened the window -for unbreathed air. Belt’s request that I stay with him, given in a -sort of delirium though it was, made good excuse for my remaining. If -ever he said anything about it I could allege his own words.</p> - -<p>The candle burned down more on one side than on the other and its blaze -leaned over like a man sick. It served but to distort.</p> - -<p>I looked at Belt and wondered why the mind too should grow weak, as -it most often does when disease lays hold of the body. In his healthy -senses, Belt—who, like most New Englanders, believed only what he -saw—would have jeered at the claims of a ghost. There was little -credulity in that lank, bony frame.</p> - -<p>But I stopped short in such thoughts, for I noticed that which made my -blood quicken in surprise. Belt’s uniform was gone. I rose and looked -behind the couch, thinking the lieutenant in his uneasy squirmings -might have knocked it over there. But he had not done so; nor was it -elsewhere in the room. It had gone clean away—perhaps through the -wall, like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> Belt’s ghost. I wondered what Whitestone’s emotions would -be if a somewhat soiled and worn Continental uniform, with no flesh and -bones in it, should come walking down his beat.</p> - -<p>I understood that it was a time for me to think my best, and I set -about it. I leaned back in my chair and stared at the wall in the -manner of those who do strenuous thinking. I shifted my gaze but once, -and then to put it upon Belt, who I concluded would not come back to -earth for a long time.</p> - -<p>At the end of ten minutes I rose from my chair and went out into the -hall, leaving the candle still burning on the table. Perhaps I, too, -might find a ghost. I did not mean to lose the opportunity which might -never seek me again.</p> - -<p>The hall ran the full width of the house and was broad. There was a -window at the end, but the light was so faint I could scarce see, and -in the corners and near the walls so much dusk was gathered that the -eye was of no use there. Yet, by much stealing about and reaching here -and there with my hands, I convinced myself that no ghost lurked in -that hall. But there was a stairway leading into an upper hall,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> and, -as silent as a ghost myself, for which I take pride, I stole up the -steps.</p> - -<p>Just before I reached the top step I heard a faint shuffling noise like -that which a heavy and awkward ghost with poor use of himself would -most likely make. Nay, I have heard that ghosts never make noise, but I -see no reason why they shouldn’t, at least a little.</p> - -<p>I crouched down in the shadow of the top step and the banisters. The -faint shuffling noise came nearer, and Belt’s lost uniform, upright and -in its proper shape, drifted past me and down the steps. I followed -lightly. I was not afraid. I have never heard, at least not with the -proper authenticity, that ghosts strike one, or do other deeds of -violence; so I followed, secure in my courage. The brass buttons on the -uniform gleamed a little, and I kept them in clear view. Down the steps -went the figure, and then it sped along the hall, with me after it. It -reached the front door, opened it half a foot and stood there. That was -my opportunity to hold discussion with a ghost, and I did not neglect -it. Forward I slipped and tapped with my fingers an arm of the uniform, -which inclosed not empty air but flesh and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> blood. Startled, the figure -faced about and saw my features, for a little light came in at the door.</p> - -<p>“I offer congratulations on your speedy recovery from fever, Lieutenant -Belt,” I said, in a subdued tone.</p> - -<p>“It was quick, it is true,” he replied, “but I need something more.”</p> - -<p>“What is that?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Fresh air,” he replied. “I think I will go outside.”</p> - -<p>“I will go with you,” I said. “Fevers are uncertain, and one can not -tell what may happen.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated as if he would make demur, but I said:</p> - -<p>“It is necessary to both of us.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated no longer, but opened the door wider and stepped out into -the portico. I looked with much anxiety to see what sort of watch -was kept, and no doubt my companion did the same. It was good. Three -sentinels were in sight. Directly in front of us, and about thirty feet -away, was Whitestone. The skirmishers and their rifles had not yet gone -to sleep, for twice while we stood on the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>portico we saw the flash of -powder on the distant hills.</p> - -<p>“Lieutenant, I think we had best walk in the direction of the firing -and make a little investigation,” I said.</p> - -<p>“The idea is good,” he replied. “We will do it.”</p> - -<p>We walked down the steps and into the yard. I was slightly in advance, -leading the way. We passed within a dozen feet of Whitestone, who -saluted.</p> - -<p>“Sergeant,” said I, “Lieutenant Belt, who feels much better, and -I, wish to inquire further into the skirmishing. There may be some -significance for us in it. We will return presently.”</p> - -<p>Whitestone saluted again and said nothing. Once more I wish to commend -Whitestone as a jewel. He did not turn to look at us when we passed -him, but stalked up and down as if he were a wooden figure moving on -hinges.</p> - -<p>We walked northward, neither speaking. Some three or four hundred yards -from the house both of us stopped. Then I put my hand upon his arm -again. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Albert,” I said, “your fortune is far better than you deserve, or ever -will deserve.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about that,” he replied.</p> - -<p>“I do,” I said. “Now, beyond those hills are the camp-fires of -Burgoyne. You came thus far easily enough in your effort to get out, -though Martyn, who came with you, failed, and you can go back the same -way; but, before you start, take off Belt’s uniform. I won’t have you -masquerading as an American officer.”</p> - -<p>Without a word he took off the Continental uniform and stood in the -citizen’s suit in which I had first seen him, Belt being a larger man -than he. I rolled them up in a bundle and put the bundle under my arm.</p> - -<p>“Shake hands,” he said. “You’ve done me a good turn.”</p> - -<p>“Several of them,” I said, as I shook his hand, “which is several more -than you have done for me.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t bear you any grudge on that account,” he said with a faint -laugh, as he strode off in the darkness toward Burgoyne’s army.</p> - -<p>Which, I take it, was handsome of him.</p> - -<p>I watched him as long as I could. You may not be able sometimes to -look in the darkness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> and find a figure, but when that figure departs -from your side and you never take your eyes off it, you can follow it -for a long way through the night. Thus I could watch Albert a hundred -yards or more, and I saw that he veered in no wise from the course I -had assigned to him, and kept his face turned to the army of Burgoyne. -But I had not doubted that he would keep his word and would not seek to -escape southward; nor did I doubt that he would reach his comrades in -safety.</p> - -<p>I turned away, very glad that he was gone. Friends cause much trouble -sometimes, but girls’ brothers cause more.</p> - -<p>I took my thoughts away from him and turned them to the business -of going back into the house with the wad of uniform under my arm, -which was very simple if things turned out all right. I believed -that Whitestone would be on guard at the same place, which was what -I wanted. I knew Whitestone would be the most vigilant of all the -sentinels, but I was accustomed to him. One prefers to do business with -a man one knows.</p> - -<p>I sauntered back slowly, now and then turning about on my heels as if I -would spy out the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> landscape, which in truth was pretty well hid by the -thickness of the night.</p> - -<p>As I approached the yard my heart gave a thump like a hammer on the -anvil; but there was Whitestone on the same beat, and my heart thumped -again, but with more consideration than before.</p> - -<p>I entered the yard, and Whitestone saluted with dignity.</p> - -<p>“Sergeant,” said I, “Lieutenant Belt is looking about on the other side -of the house. He fears that his fever is coming on him again, and he -will re-enter the house, but by the back door. I am to meet him there.”</p> - -<p>Sergeant Whitestone saluted again. I said naught of the bundle in the -crook of my arm, which he could plainly see.</p> - -<p>“Sergeant,” said I, “what do you think of a man who tells all he knows?”</p> - -<p>“Very little, sir,” he replied.</p> - -<p>“So do I,” I said; “but be that as it may, you know that you and I are -devoted to the patriot cause.”</p> - -<p>“Aye, truly, sir!” he said.</p> - -<p>We saluted each other again with great respect, and I passed into the -house. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - -<p>Belt was still asleep upon the sofa and his fever was going down, -though he talked now and then of the things that were on his brain when -awake. The candle was dying, the tallow sputtering as the blaze reached -the last of it, and without another the thickness of the night would be -upon us.</p> - -<p>I ascended the stairway into the upper hall again, but this time -with no attempt to rival a ghost in smoothness of motion. Instead, I -stumbled about like a man in whose head hot punch has set everything -to dancing. Presently Mistress Kate, bearing a candle in her hand and -dressed as if for the day—at which I was not surprised—appeared from -the side door.</p> - -<p>I begged her for another candle, if the supply in the house were not -exhausted, and stepping back she returned in a moment with what I -desired; then in a tone of much sympathy she inquired as to the state -of Lieutenant Belt’s health. I said he was sleeping peacefully, and -suggested that she come and look at him, as she might have sufficient -knowledge of medicine to assist me in the case. To which she consented, -though ever one of the most modest of maidens. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<p>I held the candle near Belt’s face, but in such position that the light -would not shine into his eyes and awaken him.</p> - -<p>“But the lieutenant would rather be on his feet again and in these -garments,” I said, turning the light upon Belt’s uniform, which I had -carefully spread out again on the foot of the couch. Then I added:</p> - -<p>“The wearer of that uniform has had many adventures, doubtless, but he -has not come to any harm yet.”</p> - -<p>I might have talked further, but I knew that naught more was needed for -Kate Van Auken.</p> - -<p>Moreover, no words could ever be cited against me.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VII.</span> <span class="smaller">IN BURGOYNE’S CAMP.</span></h2> - -<p>Belt awoke the next morning in fairly good health, but very sour of -temper. Like some other people whom I know, he seemed to hold everybody -he met personally responsible for his own misfortunes, which I take it -is most disagreeable for all concerned. He spoke to me in most churlish -manner, though I am fair to say I replied in similar fashion, which -for some reason seemed to cause him discontent. Then he went out and -quarreled with Whitestone and the others, who had been doing their duty -in complete fashion.</p> - -<p>But a few minutes after he had gone out, Madame Van Auken, who was a -lady in the highest degree, though a Tory one, came to me and said -she and her daughter had prepared breakfast; scanty, it is true, for -the rebels had passed that way too often, but it would most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> likely -be better than army fare, and would be good for invalids; would I be -so kind as to ask Lieutenant Belt to come in and share it with them, -and would I do them the further kindness to present myself at the -breakfast also? I would be delighted, and I said so, also hurrying -forth to find Belt, to whom I gave the invitation. He accepted in tone -somewhat ungracious, I thought, but improved in manner when he entered -the presence of the ladies; for, after all, Belt was a gentleman, and I -will admit that he had been unfortunate. As we went in to the breakfast -table I said to Belt:</p> - -<p>“You’ve come out of that chill and fever very well, lieutenant. You -look a little weak, but all right otherwise.”</p> - -<p>“You seem to have had your own worries,” he replied a bit slowly, “for -something has been painting night under your eyes.”</p> - -<p>Well, it was natural; it had been an anxious time for me in truth. But -I suggested it was due to long night watches.</p> - -<p>The ladies, as they had said, had not a great deal to offer, but it was -well prepared by their own hands. They had some very fine coffee, to -which I am ever partial, especially in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> mornings, and we made most -excellent progress with the breakfast, even Belt waxing amiable. But -about the middle of the breakfast he asked quite suddenly of us all:</p> - -<p>“Do you believe in ghosts?”</p> - -<p>I was a bit startled, I will admit, but I rejoice to think that I did -not show it. Instead, I looked directly at Mistress Kate, who in truth -looked very handsome and light-hearted that morning, and asked:</p> - -<p>“Do you believe in ghosts?”</p> - -<p>“Of a certainty—of a certainty,” she said with emphasis.</p> - -<p>“So do I,” said I with equal emphasis.</p> - -<p>Madame Van Auken drank her coffee.</p> - -<p>“I don’t,” said Belt. “I thought I did for a while last night. I even -thought I saw one while Shelby was away from me for a while.”</p> - -<p>I rallied Belt, and explained to the ladies that the fever had given -him an illusion the night before. They joined me in the raillery, and -trusted that the gallant lieutenant would not see double when he met -his enemies. Belt took it very well, better than I had thought. But -after the breakfast, when we had withdrawn again, he said to me with a -sour look: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I do not trust those ladies, Shelby.”</p> - -<p>“Well, as for that,” I replied, “I told you that Madame Van Auken was a -hot Tory, of which fact she seeks to make no concealment. But I don’t -see what harm they could do us, however much they might wish it.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe,” he said; then with a sudden change:</p> - -<p>“Why did you say this morning that you believed in ghosts, when last -night you said you didn’t?”</p> - -<p>I fixed upon him the sharp stare of one amazed at such a question.</p> - -<p>“Belt,” said I, “I am a believer in ghosts. I am also a devout believer -in the report that the moon is made of moldy green cheese.”</p> - -<p>He sniffed a bit, and let me alone on that point, but he returned -to the attack on the ladies. I do not know what idea had found -lodgment in his head; in truth it may have been due to biliousness, -but he suspected them most strongly of what he called treasonable -correspondence with the enemy. I asked him what course he intended to -take in the matter, and he returned a vague answer; but I soon received -intimation of his purpose, for in an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> hour, leaving me in charge for -the time, he returned to the army. He made a quick trip, and when he -came back he told me he had reported the case at headquarters. The -general, not knowing what else to do with the ladies, had directed -that they be sent to Burgoyne’s army, where, he understood, they had -relatives.</p> - -<p>“He said to me,” said Belt, “that at this time it would be just as well -for the British to take care of their own.”</p> - -<p>Reflecting a little, I decided that the matter had fallen out very -well. If they were in Burgoyne’s camp it would release us all from some -troubles and doubts.</p> - -<p>“You had best go into the house and notify them,” said Belt, “for they -are to be taken to Burgoyne under a white flag this very afternoon.”</p> - -<p>I found Mistress Kate first and told her what Belt had done. She did -not seem to be much surprised. In truth, she said she had expected it.</p> - -<p>“I trust, Mistress Kate,” I said, “that while you are in Burgoyne’s -army you will not let your opinions be influenced too much by your -surroundings.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My opinions are my own,” she said, “and are not dependent upon time -and place.”</p> - -<p>Then I said something about its being a pity that Captain Chudleigh was -a prisoner in our hands at such a time and was not with his own army, -but she gave me such a sharp answer that I was glad to shut my mouth.</p> - -<p>Madame Van Auken said she was glad to go, but she would revisit her -house when she came southward with Burgoyne after he had scattered the -rebels, provided the rebels in the meantime had not burned the house -down. Which, considering many things, I felt I could overlook. Both -promised to be ready in an hour. I went outside and found that Belt was -able to surprise me again.</p> - -<p>“You are to take the ladies into Burgoyne’s camp,” he said. “I wished -to do it myself, but I was needed for other work.”</p> - -<p>I was not at all averse to this task, though it had never occurred to -me that I would enter the British lines, except possibly as a prisoner.</p> - -<p>“I wish you luck,” said Belt, somewhat enviously. “I think the trip -into the British lines is worth taking.”</p> - -<p>Right here I may say—for Belt does not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> come into this narration -again—that after the war I told him the whole story of these affairs, -which he enjoyed most heartily, and is at this day one among my best -friends.</p> - -<p>The preliminaries about the transfer of the ladies to Burgoyne’s camp -were but few, though I was exposed on the way to much censure from -Madame Van Auken because of my rebel proclivities. In truth, Mistress -Catherine, I think, took after her deceased and lamented father rather -than her mother, who I knew had made the signal of the light to Martyn, -and to Albert, who was on foot near him. But I bore it very well, -inasmuch as one can grow accustomed to almost anything.</p> - -<p>I found that during my few days’ absence our army had pushed up much -closer to Burgoyne, and also that we had increased greatly in numbers. -Nothing could save Burgoyne, so I heard, but the arrival of Clinton -from New York with heavy re-enforcements, and even then, at the best -for Burgoyne, it would be but a problem. My heart swelled with that -sudden elation one feels when a great reward looks certain after long -trial.</p> - -<p>Protected by the flag of truce we <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>approached Burgoyne’s lines. There -were but the three of us, the two ladies and I. Mistress Kate was -very silent; Madame Van Auken, for whom I have the utmost respect, be -her opinions what they may, did the talking for all three. She was -in somewhat exuberant mood, as she expected to rejoin her son, thus -having all her immediate family together under the flag that she loved. -She had no doubt that Burgoyne would beat us. I could not make out -Mistress Kate’s emotions, nor in truth whether she had any; but just -after we were hailed by the first British sentinel she said to me with -an affectation of lightness, though she could not keep her voice from -sounding sincere:</p> - -<p>“My brother will never forget what you have done for him, Dick.”</p> - -<p>“He may or may not,” I replied, “but I hope your brother’s sister will -not.”</p> - -<p>Which may not have been a very gallant speech, but I will leave it to -every just man if I had not endured a good deal in silence. She did -not take any exceptions to my reply, but smiled, which I did not know -whether to consider a good or bad sign.</p> - -<p>I showed a letter from one of our generals to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> the sentinel, and we -were quickly passed through the lines. We were received by Captain -Jervis, a British officer of much politeness, and I explained to him -that the two ladies whom I was proud to escort were the mother and -sister of Albert Van Auken, who should be with Burgoyne’s army. He -answered at once that he knew Albert, and had seen him not an hour -before. Thereat the ladies rejoiced greatly, knowing that Albert -was safe so far; which perhaps, to my mind, was better luck than he -deserved. But in ten minutes he was brought to us, and embraced his -mother and sister with great warmth; then shaking hands with me—</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry to see you a prisoner, Dick, my lad,” he said easily, -“especially after you’ve been so obliging to me. But it’s your bad -luck.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not a prisoner,” I replied with some heat, “though you and all the -rest of Burgoyne’s men are likely soon to be. I merely came here under -a flag of truce to bring your mother and sister, and put them out of -the way of cannon balls.”</p> - -<p>He laughed at my boast, and said Burgoyne would soon resume his -promenade to New<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> York. Then he bestirred himself for the comfort of -his mother and sister. He apologized for straitened quarters, but said -he could place them in some very good company, including the Baroness -Riedesel and Madame the wife of General Fraser, at which Madame Van -Auken, who was always fond of people of quality, especially when the -quality was indicated by a title, was pleased greatly. And in truth -they were welcomed most hospitably by the wives of the British and -Hessian officers with Burgoyne’s army, who willingly shared with them -the scarcity of food and lodging they had to offer. When I left them, -Mistress Catherine said to me with a saucy curve of the lip, as if she -would but jest:</p> - -<p>“Take good care of yourself, Dick, and my brother’s sister will try not -to forget you.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” I said, “and if it falls in my way to do a good turn for -Captain Chudleigh while he is our prisoner, I will take full advantage -of it.”</p> - -<p>At this she was evidently displeased, though somehow I was not.</p> - -<p>Albert Van Auken took charge of me, and asked me into a tent to meet -some of his fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> officers and take refreshment; which invitation I -promptly accepted, for in those days an American soldier, with wisdom -born of trial, never neglected a chance to get something good to eat or -to drink.</p> - -<p>On my way I observed the condition of Burgoyne’s camp. It was in truth -a stricken army that he led—or rather did not lead, for it seemed now -to be stuck fast. The tents and the wagons were filled with the sick -and the wounded, and many not yet entirely well clustered upon the -grass seeking such consolation as they could find in the talk of each -other. The whole in body, rank and file, sought to preserve a gallant -demeanor, though in spite of it a certain depression was visible on -almost every face. Upon my soul I was sorry for them, enemies though -they were, and the greater their misfortune the greater cause we had -for joy, which, I take it, is one of the grievous things about war.</p> - -<p>It was a large tent into which Albert took me, and I met there Captain -Jervis and several other officers, two or three of whom seemed to be of -higher rank than captain, though I did not exactly catch their names, -for Albert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> spoke somewhat indistinctly when making the introductions. -There seemed to be a degree of comfort in the tent—bottles, glasses, -and other evidences of social warmth.</p> - -<p>“We wish to be hospitable to a gallant enemy like yourself, Mr. -Shelby,” said Captain Jervis, “and are not willing that you should -return to your own army without taking refreshment with us.”</p> - -<p>I thanked him for his courtesy, and said I was quite willing to be a -live proof of their hospitality; whereupon they filled the glasses with -a very unctuous, fine-flavored wine, and we drank to the health of the -wide world. It had been long since good wine had passed my lips, and -when they filled the glasses a second time I said in my heart that -they were gentlemen. At the same time I wondered to myself a bit why -officers of such high rank, as some of these seemed to be, should pay -so much honor to me, who was but young and the rank of whom was but -small. Yet I must confess that this slight wonder had no bad effect -upon the flavor of the wine.</p> - -<p>Some eatables of a light and delicate nature were handed around by an -orderly, and all of us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> partook, after which we drank a third glass -of wine. Then the officers talked most agreeably about a variety of -subjects, even including the latest gossip they had brought with them -from the Court of St. James. Then we took a fourth glass of wine. I am -not a heavy drinker, as heavy drinkers go, and have rather a strong -head, but a humming of the distant sea began in my ears and the talk -moved far away. I foresaw that Richard Shelby had drunk enough, and -that it was time for me to exercise my strongest will over his somewhat -rebellious head.</p> - -<p>“I suppose that you Americans are very sanguine just now, and expect to -take our entire army,” said the oldest and apparently the highest of -the officers—colonel or general, something or other—to me.</p> - -<p>I noted that he was overwhelmingly polite in tone. Moreover, my -will was acquiring mastery over Dick Shelby’s humming head. I made -an ambiguous reply, and he went further into the subject of the -campaign, the other officers joining him and indulging slightly in -jest at our expense, as if they would lead me on to boast. To make a -clean confession in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> the matter, I felt some inclination to a little -vaunting. He said something about our hope to crush Burgoyne, and -laughed as if it were quite impossible.</p> - -<p>“English armies are never taken,” said he.</p> - -<p>“But they have never before warred with the Americans,” I said.</p> - -<p>I recalled afterward that some of the officers applauded me for that -reply, which was strange considering their sympathies. The old officer -showed no offense.</p> - -<p>“Have you heard that Sir Henry Clinton is coming to our relief with -five thousand men?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No; have you?” I replied.</p> - -<p>I was applauded again, and the officer laughed.</p> - -<p>“You take me up quickly. You have a keen mind, Mr. Shelby; it’s a pity -you’re not one of us,” he said.</p> - -<p>“That would be bad for me,” I said, “as I do not wish to become a -prisoner.”</p> - -<p>This was a bit impertinent and ungenerous, I will admit, but I had -drunk four glasses of wine and they were nagging me. They filled up -the glasses again, and most of them drank,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> but I only sipped mine, -meanwhile strengthening my rule over Dick Shelby’s mutinous head. The -officer laughed easily at my reply and began to talk about the chances -of the next battle, which he was sure the British would win. He said -Burgoyne had six thousand men, English and Hessians, and in quite a -careless way he asked how many we had.</p> - -<p>By this time I had Dick Shelby’s unruly head under complete control, -and his question, lightly put as it was, revealed their whole plan. -Right then and there I felt a most painful regret that I had not given -Albert Van Auken the worst beating of his life when I had the chance.</p> - -<p>I replied that I could not say exactly how many men we had, but the -number was somewhere between a thousand and a million, and at any rate -sufficient for the purpose. He laughed gently as if he were willing -to tolerate me, and continued to put questions in manner sly and most -insidious. I returned answers vague or downright false, and I could -see that the officer was becoming vexed at his want of success. Albert -himself filled up my glass and urged me to drink again.</p> - -<p>“You know, Dick, you don’t get good wine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> often,” he said, “and this -may be your last chance.”</p> - -<p>Had not I been a guest I would have created, right then and there, a -second opportunity for giving Albert the worst beating of his life. -I pretended to drink, though I merely sipped the fumes. The elderly -officer changed his tactics a little.</p> - -<p>“Do you think your generals are well informed about us?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” I replied.</p> - -<p>“How?”</p> - -<p>“We learn from prisoners,” I said, “and then, perhaps, we ask sly -questions from Englishmen who come to us under flags of truce.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” he asked, his face—and I was glad to see -it—reddening.</p> - -<p>“I mean,” said I, “that you have brought me into this tent with purpose -to intoxicate me and get valuable information from me. It was a plot -unworthy of gentlemen.”</p> - -<p>He rose to his feet, his eyes flashing with much anger. But the -wine I had drunk made me very belligerent. I was ready to fight a -thousand—come one, come all. Moreover, I leave it to all if I did -not have just cause for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> wrath. I turned from the officer to Albert, -against whom my indignation burned most.</p> - -<p>“I have just saved you from death, perhaps a most degrading death,” I -said, “and I am loath to remind you of it, but I must, in order to tell -your fellow officers I am sorry I did it.”</p> - -<p>I never saw a man turn redder, and he trembled all over. It was the -scarlet of shame, too, and not of righteous anger.</p> - -<p>“Dick,” he said, “I beg your pardon. I let my zeal for our cause go too -far. I—I——”</p> - -<p>I think he would have broken down, but just then the elderly officer -interfered.</p> - -<p>“Be silent, Lieutenant Van Auken,” he said. “It is not your fault, nor -that of any other present except myself. You speak truth, Mr. Shelby, -when you say it was unworthy of us. So it was. I am glad it failed, and -I apologize for the effort to make it a success. Mr. Shelby, I am glad -to know you.”</p> - -<p>He held out his hand with such frank manliness and evident good will -that I grasped it and shook it heartily. What more he might have said -or done I do not know, for just then we were interrupted by the sound -of a great though distant shouting.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VIII.</span> <span class="smaller">A NIGHT UNDER FIRE.</span></h2> - -<p>The shouting begat curiosity in us all, and we left the tent, the -elderly officer leading. I perceived at once that the noise came from -our lines, which were pushed up very close to those of the British and -were within plain hearing distance. Among the trees and bushes, which -were very dense at points, I could see in the brilliant sunshine the -flash of rifle barrel and the gleam of uniform. The shouting was great -in volume, swelling like a torrent rising to the flood.</p> - -<p>I remained by the side of the old officer. He seemed anxious.</p> - -<p>“What is it? What can that mean? It must be something important,” he -asked as much of himself as of me.</p> - -<p>The reply was ready for him, as some English skirmishers came forward -with an American<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> prisoner whom they had taken but a few moments -before. The man was but a common soldier, ragged, but intelligent. The -officer put to him his question about the shouting, which had not yet -subsided.</p> - -<p>“That was a welcome,” said the prisoner.</p> - -<p>“A welcome! What do you mean by that?”</p> - -<p>“Simply that more re-enforcements have come from the south.”</p> - -<p>The officer grew even graver.</p> - -<p>“More men always coming for them and never any for us,” he said, almost -under his breath.</p> - -<p>I had it in mind to suggest that I be returned at once to my own -army, but the arrival of the troops or other cause created a sudden -recrudescence of the skirmishing. Piff-paff chanted the rifles; zip-zip -chirped the bullets. Little blades of flame spurted up among the -bushes, and above them rose the white curls of smoke like baby clouds. -On both sides the riflemen were at work.</p> - -<p>The officer looked about him as if he intended to give some special -orders, and then seemed to think better of it. A bullet passed through -the tent we had just left. I felt that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> my American uniform took me out -of the list of targets.</p> - -<p>“Your sharpshooters seem to have come closer,” said the officer. “Their -bullets fell short this morning. I will admit they are good men with -the rifle—better than ours.”</p> - -<p>“These are countrymen,” I said. “They have been trained through boyhood -to the use of the rifle.”</p> - -<p>I was looking at the fringe of trees and bushes which half hid our -lines. Amid the boughs of a tall tree whose foliage was yet untouched -by autumn I saw what I took to be a man’s figure; but the leaves were -so dense and so green I was not sure. Moreover, the man, if man it -was, seemed to wear clothing of the hue of the leaves. I decided I was -mistaken; then I knew I had been right at first guess, for I saw the -green body within the green curtain of leaves move out upon a bough and -raise its head a little. The sun flashed upon a rifle barrel, and the -next instant the familiar curl of white smoke rose from its muzzle.</p> - -<p>The officer had opened his mouth to speak to me, but the words remained -unspoken. His face went pale as if all the blood had suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> gone -out of him, and he flopped down like an emptied bag at my feet, shot -through the heart.</p> - -<p>I was seized with a shivering horror. He was talking to me one moment -and dead the next. His fall, seen by so many, created a confusion in -the British lines. Several rushed forward to seize the body and carry -it away. Just as the first man reached it, he too was slain by a hidden -sharpshooter, and the two bodies lay side by side.</p> - -<p>Acting from impulse rather than thought, I lifted the officer by the -shoulders and began to drag him back into the camp. Whether or not my -uniform protected me I can not say, but I was hit by no bullet, though -the skirmishing became so sharp and so hot that it rose almost to the -dignity of a battle. The officer’s body was withdrawn beyond the range -of the sharpshooting and placed in a tent. Though he had sought to -entrap me he had made handsome apology therefor, and I mourned him as I -would a friend. Why should men filled with mutual respect be compelled -to shoot each other?</p> - -<p>Albert came to me there, and said in a very cold voice: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Dick, this sudden outburst will compel you to remain our guest some -time longer—perhaps through the night.”</p> - -<p>I turned my back upon him, and when he left I do not know, but when I -looked that way again he was gone, for which I was in truth very glad. -Yet I would have liked to ask him about Kate and her mother. I wondered -if they were safe from the stray bullets of the sharpshooters.</p> - -<p>In the stir of this strife at long range I seemed to be forgotten by -the British, as I had been forgotten by my own people. My Continental -uniform was none of the brightest, and even those who noticed it -apparently took me for a privileged prisoner. When I left the tent in -which the officer’s body lay I came back toward the American army, but -the patter of the bullets grew so lively around me that I retreated. It -is bad enough to be killed by an enemy, I imagine, but still worse to -be killed by a friend.</p> - -<p>The day was growing old and the night would soon be at hand. Our -sharpshooters held such good positions that they swept most of the -British camp. I do not claim to be a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> military man, but I was -convinced that if the British did not dislodge these sharpshooters -their position would become untenable. The night, so far from serving -them, would rather be a benefit to their enemies, for the lights in the -British camp would guide the bullets of the hidden riflemen to their -targets.</p> - -<p>The bustle in the camp increased, and I observed that details of men -were sent to the front. They took off their bright coats, which were -fine marks for the riflemen, and it was evident that they intended to -match our sharpshooters at their own business. Many of these men were -Germans, who, I have heard, have always been accounted good marksmen in -Europe.</p> - -<p>Nobody caring about me, I took position on a little knoll where I could -see and yet be beyond range. The sun, as if wishing to do his best -before going down, was shining with marvelous brilliancy. The incessant -pit-pat of the rifle fire, like the crackling of hail, drew all eyes -toward the American line. It seemed to me that only the speedy coming -of the night could prevent a great battle.</p> - -<p>The crackling flared up suddenly into a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>volley, betokening the arrival -of the fresh British skirmishers at the point of action. The little -white curls of smoke were gathering together and forming a great cloud -overhead. Presently some wounded were taken past.</p> - -<p>There was a movement and gathering of men near me. Quite a body of -soldiers, a company, it seemed, were drawn up. Then, with fixed -bayonets, they advanced upon the American line. I guessed that the -skirmishers were intended to attract the attention of our people, while -this company hoped to clear the woods of the sharpshooters and release -the British camp from their galling fire. The British advanced with -gallantry. I give them credit for that always—that is, nearly always.</p> - -<p>The firing had reached an exceeding degree of activity, but I did -not see any man in the company fall. By this I concluded that their -skirmishers were keeping our own busy, and I was in some apprehension -lest this strong squad should fall suddenly and with much force upon -our outposts. Forward they went at a most lively pace and preserving a -very even rank, their bayonets shining brightly in the late sun. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -British boast much about their ability with the bayonet. We know less -about ours, because almost our only way of getting bayonets was to take -them from the British, which we did more than once.</p> - -<p>Two or three British officers gathered on the knoll to watch the -movement. Among these was Captain Jervis, whom I liked well. He spoke -pleasantly to me, and said, pointing at the company which was now very -near to the wood:</p> - -<p>“That charge, I think, is going to be a success, Mr. Shelby, and your -sharpshooters will find it more comfortable to keep a little farther -away from us.”</p> - -<p>He spoke with a certain pride, as if he would hold our people a little -more cheaply than his own.</p> - -<p>I made no reply, for another and better answer from a different source -was ready. There was a very vivid blaze from the wood and the crash of -a heavy volley. The head of the column was shattered, nay, crushed, -and the body of it reeled like a man to whom has been dealt a stunning -blow. It was apparent that our people had seen the movement and had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>gathered in force in the wood to repel it, striking at the proper -moment.</p> - -<p>The company rallied and advanced most bravely a second time to the -charge; but the flash of the rifles was so steady and so fast that the -woods seemed to be spouting fire. The British fell back quickly and -then broke into a discreet run into their own encampment.</p> - -<p>“You will perceive,” said I to Captain Jervis, “that our people have -not yet retired for the night.”</p> - -<p>He laughed a little, though on the wrong side of his mouth. I could see -that he felt chagrin, and so I said no more on that point.</p> - -<p>As if by concert our sharpshooters also pushed up closer, and being so -much better at that business drove in those of Burgoyne. The Germans, -in particular, knowing but little of forests, fared badly.</p> - -<p>Though I was neither in it nor of it, I felt much elation at our little -triumph. In truth the consequences, if not important of themselves, -were significant of greater things. They showed that Burgoyne’s -beleaguered battalions could rest hope only on two things, the arrival -of Clinton or victory in a pitched battle. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> now Burgoyne could not -even protect his own camp. It was reached in many parts by the fire of -the sharpshooters drawn in a deadly ring around it. The night came, and -as far as possible the lights in the camp were put out, but the firing -went on, and no British sentinel was safe at his post.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IX.</span> <span class="smaller">MY GUIDE.</span></h2> - -<p>I remember no night in which I saw more misery. The sharpshooters never -slept, and the dark seemed to profit them as much as the day. They -enveloped the British camp like a swarm of unseen bees, all the more -deadly because no man knew where they hovered nor whence nor when the -sting would come. Men brave in the day are less brave at night, and -every British officer I saw looked worn, and fearful of the future. I -confess that I began to grow anxious on my own account, for in this -darkness my old Continentals could not serve as a warning that I was no -proper target. I have always preserved a high regard for the health and -welfare of Richard Shelby, Esq., and I withdrew him farther into the -camp. There I saw many wounded and more sick, and but scant means for -their treatment. Moreover, the list<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> of both was increasing, and even -as I wandered about, the fresh-wounded were taken past me, sometimes -crying out in their pain.</p> - -<p>There were many who took no part in the fighting—Tories who had come -to the British camp with their wives and little children, and the wives -of the English and Hessian officers who had come down from Canada with -them, expecting a march of glory and triumph to New York. For these I -felt most sorrow, as it is very cruel that women and children should -have to look upon war. More than once I heard the lamentations of women -and the frightened weeping of little children. Sometimes the flaring -torches showed me their scared faces. These non-combatants, in truth, -were beyond the range of the fire, but the wounded men were always -before them.</p> - -<p>It was but natural that amid so much tumult and suspense I should -remain forgotten. My uniform, dingy in the brightest sun, was scarce -noticeable in the half-lit dusk, and I wandered about the camp almost -at will. The night was not old before I noticed the bustle of great -preparations. Officers hurried about as if time of a sudden had -doubled its value. Soldiers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> very anxiously examined their muskets -and bayonets; cannon were wheeled into more compact batteries; more -ammunition was gathered at convenient points. On all faces I saw -expectation.</p> - -<p>I thought at first that some night skirmish was intended, but the -bustle and the hurrying extended too much for that. I set about more -thorough explorations, and it was easy enough to gather that Burgoyne -intended to risk all in a pitched battle on the morrow. These were the -preparations for it.</p> - -<p>Curiosity had taken away from me, for the moment, the desire to go back -to my own people, but now it returned with double force. It was not -likely that my warning of the coming battle could be of much value, -for our forces were vigilant; but I had the natural desire of youth to -be with our own army, and not with that of the enemy, at the coming of -such a great event.</p> - -<p>But the chance for my return looked very doubtful. Both armies were too -busy to pay heed to a flag of truce even if it could be seen in the -night. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> - -<p>I wandered about looking for some means of escape to our own lines, -and in seeking to reach the other side of the camp passed once more -through the space in which the women and children lay. I saw a little -one-roomed house, abandoned long since by its owners. The uncertain -light from the window fought with the shadows outside.</p> - -<p>I stepped to the window, which was open, and looked in. They had -turned the place into a hospital. A doctor with sharp instruments in -his hand was at work. A woman with strong white arms, bare almost to -the shoulder, was helping him. She turned away presently, her help not -needed just then, and saw my face at the window.</p> - -<p>“Dick,” she said in a tone low, but not too low to express surprise, -“why haven’t you returned to the army?”</p> - -<p>“Because I can’t, Kate,” I said. “My flag of truce is forgotten, and -the bullets are flying too fast through the dark for me to make a dash -for it.”</p> - -<p>“There should be a way.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe, but I haven’t found it.”</p> - -<p>“Albert ought to help you.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> - -<p>“There are many things Albert ought to do which he doesn’t do,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Don’t think too badly of him.”</p> - -<p>“I think I’ll try to escape through the far side of the camp,” I said, -nodding my head in the way I meant to go.</p> - -<p>“We owe you much, Dick, for what you have done for us,” she said, “and -we wish you safety on that account, and more so on your own account.”</p> - -<p>She put her hand out of the window and I squeezed it a little.</p> - -<p>Perhaps that was Chudleigh’s exclusive right.</p> - -<p>But she did not complain, and Chudleigh knew nothing about it.</p> - -<p>The British camp was surrounded, but on the side to which I was now -coming the fire of the sharpshooters was more intermittent. It was the -strongest part of the British lines, but I trusted that on such account -the way for my escape would be more open there. At night, with so much -confusion about, it would not be easy to guard every foot of ground. I -walked very slowly until I came almost to the outskirts of the camp; -then I stopped to consider. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> - -<p>In the part of the camp where I stood it was very dark. Some torches -were burning in a half-hearted fashion forty or fifty feet away, -but their own light only made the dusk around me the deeper. I was -endeavoring to select the exact point at which I would seek to pass the -lines, when some one touched me with light hand upon the shoulder.</p> - -<p>I turned my head and saw Albert Van Auken, clad in the same cloak he -wore the night he tried to counterfeit his sister. I was about to walk -away, for I still felt much anger toward him, when he touched me again -with light hand, and said in such a low voice that I could scarce hear:</p> - -<p>“I am going to pay you back, at least in part, Dick. I will help you to -escape. Come!”</p> - -<p>Well, I was glad that he felt shame at last for the way in which he had -acted. It had taken him a long time to learn that he owed me anything. -But much of my wrath against him departed. It was too dark for me to -see the expression of shame which I knew must be imprinted upon his -face, but on his account I was not sorry that I could not see it.</p> - -<p>He led the way, stepping very lightly, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>toward a row of baggage wagons -which seemed to have been drawn up as a sort of fortification. It -looked like a solid line, and I wondered if he would attempt to crawl -under them, but when we came nearer I saw an open space of half a yard -or so between two of them. Albert slipped through this crack without a -word, and I followed. On the other side he stopped for a few moments in -the shadow of the wagons, and I, of course, imitated him.</p> - -<p>I could see sentinels to the right and to the left of us, walking about -as if on beats. On the hills, not so very far from us, the camp-fires -of the American army were burning.</p> - -<p>I perceived that it was a time for silence, and I waited for Albert -to be leader, as perhaps knowing the ground better than I. A moment -came presently when all the sentinels were somewhat distant from us. -He stepped forward with most marvelous lightness, and in a few breaths -we were beyond the line of the sentinels. I thought there was little -further danger, and I was much rejoiced, both because of my escape and -because it was Albert who had done such a great service for me.</p> - -<p>“I trust you will forgive me, Albert, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> some of the hard words I -spoke to you,” I said. “Remember that I spoke in anger and without full -knowledge of you.”</p> - -<p>He put his fingers upon his lips as a sign for me to be silent, and -continued straight ahead toward the American army. I followed. Some -shots were fired, but we were in a sort of depression, and I had full -confidence they were not intended for us, but were drawn by the lights -in the British camp. Yet I believed that Albert had gone far enough. -He had shown me the way, and no more was needed. I did not wish him to -expose himself to our bullets.</p> - -<p>“Go back, Albert,” I said. “I know the way now, and I do not wish you -to become our prisoner.”</p> - -<p>He would not pause until we had gone a rod farther. Then he pointed -toward our camp-fires ahead, and turned about as if he would go back.</p> - -<p>“Albert,” I said, “let us forget what I said when in anger, and part -friends.”</p> - -<p>I seized his hand in my grasp, though he sought to evade me. The hand -was small and warm, and then I knew that the deception <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>Albert had -practiced upon me a night or so before had enabled Albert’s sister to -do the same.</p> - -<p>“Kate!” I exclaimed. “Why have you done this?”</p> - -<p>“For you,” said she, snatching her hand from mine and fleeing so -swiftly toward the British camp that I could not stop her.</p> - -<p>In truth I did not follow her, but mused for a moment on the great -change a slouch hat, a long cloak, and a pair of cavalry boots can make -in one’s appearance on a dark night.</p> - -<p>As I stood in the dark and she was going toward the light, I could -watch her figure. I saw her pass between the wagons again and knew that -she was safe. Then I addressed myself to my own task.</p> - -<p>I stood in a depression of the ground, and on the hills, some hundreds -of yards before me, our camp-fires glimmered. The firing on this side -was so infrequent that it was often several minutes between shots. All -the bullets, whether British or American, passed high over my head, for -which I was truly glad.</p> - -<p>I made very good progress toward our lines, until I heard ahead of me a -slight noise as of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> some one moving about. I presumed that it was one -of our sharpshooters, and was about to call gently, telling him who I -was. I was right in my presumption, but not quick enough with my hail, -for his rifle was fired so close to me that the blaze of the exploding -powder seemed to leap at me. That the bullet in truth was aimed at me -there was no doubt, for I felt its passage so near my face that it made -me turn quite cold and shiver.</p> - -<p>“Hold! I am a friend!” I shouted.</p> - -<p>“Shoot the damned British spy! Don’t let him get away!” cried the -sharpshooter.</p> - -<p>Two or three other sharpshooters, taking him at his word, fired at my -figure faintly seen in the darkness. None hit me, but I was seized with -a sudden and great feeling of discomfort. Seeing that it was not a time -for explanations, I turned and ran back in the other direction. One -more shot was fired at me as I ran, and I was truly thankful that I was -a swift runner and a poor target.</p> - -<p>In a few moments I was beyond the line of their fire, and, rejoicing -over my escape from present dangers, was meditating how to escape from -those of the future, when a shot was fired<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> from a new point of the -compass, and some one cried out:</p> - -<p>“Shoot him, the Yankee spy! the damned rebel! Don’t let him escape!”</p> - -<p>And in good truth those to whom he spoke this violent command obeyed -with most alarming promptness, for several muskets were discharged -instantly and the bullets flew about me.</p> - -<p>I turned back with surprising quickness and fled toward the American -camp, more shots pursuing me, but fortune again saving me from their -sting. I could hear the Englishmen repeating their cries to each other -not to let the rebel spy escape. Then I bethought me it was time to -stop, or in a moment or two I would hear the Americans shouting to each -other not to let the infernal British spy escape. I recognized the very -doubtful nature of my position. It seemed as if both the British and -American armies, horse and foot, had quit their legitimate business of -fighting each other and had gone to hunting me, a humble subaltern, who -asked nothing of either just then but personal safety. Was I to dance -back and forth between them forever? </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> - -<p>Some lightning thoughts passed through my mind, but none offered a -solution of my problem. Chance was kinder. I stumbled on a stone, -and flat I fell in a little gully. There I concluded to stay for -the while. I pressed very close against the earth and listened to a -rapid discharge of rifles and muskets. Then I perceived that I had -revenge upon them both, for in their mutual chase of me the British -and American skirmishers had come much closer together, and were now -engaged in their proper vocation of shooting at each other instead of -at me.</p> - -<p>I, the unhappy cause of it all, lay quite still, and showered thanks -upon that kindly little gully for getting in my way and receiving my -falling body at such an opportune moment. The bullets were flying very -fast over my head, but unless some fool shot at the earth instead of -at a man I was safe. The thought that there might be some such fool -made me shiver. Had I possessed the power, I would have burrowed my way -through the earth to the other side, which they say is China.</p> - -<p>It was the battle of Blenheim, at least, that seemed to be waged at -the back of my head,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> for my nose was pressed into the earth and my -imagination lent much aid to facts. I seemed to cower there for hours, -and then one side began to retreat. It was the British, the Americans, -I suppose, being in stronger force and also more skillful at this kind -of warfare. The diminishing fire swept back toward the British lines -and then died out like a languid blaze.</p> - -<p>I heard the tramp of feet, and a heavy man with a large foot stepped -squarely upon my back.</p> - -<p>“Hello!” said the owner. “Here’s one, at least, that we’ve brought -down!”</p> - -<p>“English, or Hessian?” asked another.</p> - -<p>“Can’t tell,” said the first. “He’s lying on his face, and, besides, -he’s half buried in a gully. We’ll let him stay here; I guess this -gully will do for his grave.”</p> - -<p>“No, it won’t, Whitestone!” said I, sitting up. “When the right time -comes for me to be buried I want a grave deeper than this.”</p> - -<p>“Good Lord! is it you, Mr. Shelby?” exclaimed Whitestone, in surprise -and genuine gladness.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is I,” I replied, “and in pretty sound condition too, when you -consider the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> fact that all the British and American soldiers in the -province of New York have been firing point-blank at me for the last -two hours.”</p> - -<p>Then I described my tribulations, and Whitestone, saying I should deem -myself lucky to have fared so well, went with me to our camp.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER X.</span> <span class="smaller">THE SUN OF SARATOGA.</span></h2> - -<p>Dangers and troubles past have never prevented me from sleeping well, -and when I awoke the next morning it was with Whitestone pulling at my -shoulder.</p> - -<p>“This is the third shake,” said he.</p> - -<p>“But the last,” said I, getting up and rubbing my eyes.</p> - -<p>I have seldom seen a finer morning. The fresh crispness of early -October ran through the brilliant sunshine. The earth was bathed in -light. It was such a sun as I have heard rose on the morning of the -great battle of Austerlitz, fought but recently. A light wind blew from -the west. The blood bubbled in my veins.</p> - -<p>“It’s lucky that so many of us should have such a fine day for leaving -the world,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>The battle, the final struggle for which we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> had been looking so long, -was at hand. I had not mistaken the preparations in the British camp -the night before.</p> - -<p>I have had my share, more or less humble, in various campaigns and -combats, but I have not seen any other battle begun with so much -deliberation as on that morning. In truth all whom I could see appeared -to be calm. A man is sometimes very brave and sometimes much afraid—I -do not know why—but that day the braver part of me was master.</p> - -<p>We were ready and waiting to see what the British would do, when -Burgoyne, with his picked veterans, came out of his intrenchments and -challenged us to battle, much as the knights of the old time used to -invite one another to combat.</p> - -<p>They were not so many as we—we have never made that claim; but they -made a most gallant show, all armed in the noble style with which -Britain equips her troops, particularly the bayonets, of which we have -had but few in the best of times, and none, most often.</p> - -<p>They sat down in close rank on the hillside, as if they were quite -content with what we might do or try to do, whatever it might be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> I -have heard many say it was this vaunting over us that chiefly caused -the war.</p> - -<p>The meaning of the British was evident to us all. If this picked force -could hold its own against our attack, the remainder of their army -would be brought up and an attempt to inflict a crushing defeat upon -us would be made; if it could not hold its own, it would retreat into -the intrenchments, where the whole British army would defend itself at -vantage.</p> - -<p>Farther back in the breastworks I could see the British gazing out at -their chosen force and at us. I even imagined that I could see women -looking over, and that perhaps Kate Van Auken was one of them. I say -again, how like it was in preparation and manner to one of the old -tournaments! Perhaps it was but my fancy.</p> - -<p>There was no movement in our lines. So far as we could judge just then, -we were merely looking on, as if it were no affair of ours. In the -British force some one played a tune on a fife which sounded to me like -“Won’t you dare?”</p> - -<p>“Why did we take so much care to hem them in and then refuse to fight -them?” asked I impatiently of Whitestone. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What time o’ day is it?” asked Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” I replied, “but it’s early.”</p> - -<p>“I never answer such questions before sundown,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>Content with his impolite but wise reply, I asked no more, noticing at -times the red squares of the British, and at other times the dazzling -circle of the red sun.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the British began to move. They came on in most steady manner, -their fine order maintained.</p> - -<p>“Good!” said Whitestone. “They mean to turn our left.”</p> - -<p>We were on the left, which might be good or bad. Be that as it may, -I perceived that our waiting was over. I do not think we felt any -apprehension. We were in strong force, and we New Yorkers were on the -left, and beside us our brethren of New England, very strenuous men. We -did not fear the British bayonet of which our enemies boast so much. -While we watched their advance, I said to Whitestone:</p> - -<p>“I will not ask that question again before sundown.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I trust that you will be able to ask it then, and I to answer it,” -replied he.</p> - -<p>Which was about as solemn as Whitestone ever became.</p> - -<p>Looking steadily at the British, I saw a man in their front rank fall. -Almost at the same time I heard the report of a rifle just in front of -us, and I knew that one of our sharpshooters had opened the battle.</p> - -<p>This shot was like a signal. The sharp crackling sound ran along the -grass like fire in a forest, and more men fell in the British lines. -Their own skirmishers replied, and while the smoke was yet but half -risen a heavy jerky motion seized our lines and we seemed to lift -ourselves up. A thrill of varying emotions passed through me. I knew -that we were going to attack the British, not await their charge.</p> - -<p>Our drummers began to beat a reply to theirs, but I paid small -attention to them. The fierce pattering from the rifles of the -skirmishers and the whistling of the bullets now coming about our ears -were far more important sounds. But the garrulous drums beat on.</p> - -<p>“Here goes!” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>The drums leaped into a faster tune, and we,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> keeping pace with the -redoubled rub-a-dub, charged into a cloud of smoke spangled with -flaming spots. The smoke filled my eyes and I could not see, but I was -borne on by my own will and the solid rush of the men beside me and -behind me. Then my eyes cleared partly, and I saw a long red line in -front of us. Those in the first rank were on one knee, and I remember -thinking how sharp their bayonets looked. The thought was cut short -by a volley and a blaze which seemed to envelop their whole line. A -huge groan arose from our ranks. I missed the shoulder against my left -shoulder—the man who had stood beside me was no longer there.</p> - -<p>We paused only for a moment to fire in our turn, and our groan found an -equal echo among the British. Then, officers shouting commands and men -shouting curses, we rushed upon the bayonets.</p> - -<p>I expected to be spitted through, and do not know why I was not; but in -the turmoil of noise and flame and smoke I swept forward with all the -rest. When we struck them I felt a mighty shock, as if I were the whole -line instead of one man. Then came the joy of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> savage when their -line—bayonets and all—reeled back and shivered under the crash of -ours.</p> - -<p>I shouted madly, and struck through the smoke with my sword. I was -conscious that I stepped on something softer than the earth, that it -crunched beneath my feet; but I thought little of it. Instead I rushed -on, hacking with my sword at the red blurs in the smoke.</p> - -<p>I do not say it as a boast, for there were more of us than of -them—though they used to claim that they did not care for numbers—but -they could place small check upon our advance, although they had cannon -as well as bayonets. Their red line, very much seamed and scarred now, -was driven back, and still farther back, up the hill. Our men, long -anxious for this battle and sure of triumph, poured after them like -a rising torrent. The British were not strong enough, and were swept -steadily toward their intrenchments.</p> - -<p>“Do you hear that?” shouted some one in my ear.</p> - -<p>“Hear what?” I shouted in reply, turning to Whitestone. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The cannon and the rifles across yonder,” he said, nodding his head.</p> - -<p>Then I noticed the angry crash of artillery and small arms to our left, -and I knew by the sound that not we alone but the whole battle front of -both armies was engaged.</p> - -<p>If the British, as it seemed, wanted a decisive test of strength, they -would certainly get it.</p> - -<p>For a few moments the smoke rolled over us in such volume that I could -not see Whitestone, who was but three feet from me, but I perceived -that we had wheeled a little, and nobody was before us. Then the smoke -drifted aside, and our men uttered a most tremendous shout, for all -the British who were alive or could walk had been driven into their -intrenchments, and, so far as that, we were going to carry their -intrenchments too, or try.</p> - -<p>I think that all of us took a very long breath, for I still had the -strange feeling that our whole line was one single living thing, and -whatever happened to it I felt. The cannon from the intrenchments were -fired straight into our faces, but our bloody line swept on. I leaped -upon a ridge of newly thrown earth and struck at a tall cap. I heard a -tremendous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> swearing, long volleys of deep German oaths. We were among -the paid Hessians, whom we ever hated more than the British for coming -to fight us in a quarrel that was none of theirs.</p> - -<p>The Hessians, even with their intrenchments and cannon, could not stand -before us—nor do I think they are as good as we. Perhaps our hatred -of these mercenaries swelled our zeal, but their intrenchments were no -barrier to us. For a space we fought them hand to hand, knee to knee; -then they gave way. I saw their slain commander fall. Some fled, some -yielded; others fought on, retreating.</p> - -<p>I rushed forward and called upon a Hessian to surrender. For answer he -stabbed straight at my throat with his bayonet. He would have surely -hit the mark, but a man beside him knocked the bayonet away with his -sword, calling out at the same moment to me.</p> - -<p>“That’s part payment of my debt to you, Dick.”</p> - -<p>He was gone in the smoke, and as I was busy receiving the surrender of -the Hessian and his bayonet I could not follow him. I looked around for -more to do, but all the Hessians who had not fled had yielded, and the -fight was ours.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> Burgoyne had not only failed in the pitched battle in -the open field, but we had taken many of his cannon and a portion of -his camp. His entire army, no longer able to face us in any sort of -contest, lay exposed to our attack.</p> - -<p>I wondered why we did not rush on and finish it all then, but I noticed -for the first time that the twilight had come and the skies were -growing dark over the field of battle. I must have spoken my thoughts -aloud, for Whitestone, at my elbow, said:</p> - -<p>“No use having more men killed, Mr. Shelby; we’ve nothing to do now but -hold fast to what we’ve got, and the rest will come to us.”</p> - -<p>Whitestone sometimes spoke to me in a fatherly manner, though I was his -superior. But I forgave him. I owed much to him.</p> - -<p>The battle ceased as suddenly as it had begun. The long shadows of the -night seemed to cover everything and bring peace, though the cries of -the wounded reminded us of what had been done. We gathered up the hurt, -relieving all we could; but later in the night the sharpshooters began -again.</p> - -<p>I was exultant over our victory and the certainty of a still greater -triumph to come. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> rejoiced that Albert had not forgotten his debt to -me and had found a way of repayment, but I felt anxiety also. In the -rush of the battle, with the bullets flying one knew not whither, not -even the women and children lying in that portion of the British camp -yet intact were safe.</p> - -<p>The wounded removed, I had nothing more to do but to wait. Only then -did I remember to be thankful that I was unhurt. I had much smoke grime -upon my face, and I dare say I was not fine to look at, but I thought -little of those things. Whitestone, who also was free from active duty, -joined me, and I was glad. He drew his long pipe from the interior of -his waistcoat, filled it with tobacco, lighted it and became happy.</p> - -<p>“It has been a good day’s work,” he said at length.</p> - -<p>“Yes, for us,” I replied. “What will be the next step, Whitestone?”</p> - -<p>“The British will retreat soon,” he said. “We will follow without -pressing them too hard. No use to waste our men now. In a week the -British will be ours.”</p> - -<p>Whitestone spoke with such assurance that I was convinced.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE NIGHT AFTER.</span></h2> - -<p>But a dull murmur arose from the two camps, victor and vanquished. Both -seemed to sleep for the morrow. I had done so much guard duty of late -that I looked for such assignment as a matter of course, and this night -was no exception. With Whitestone and some soldiers I was to guard one -of the little passes between the hills. We were merely an alarm corps; -we could not stop a passage, but there were enough behind us whom we -could arouse for the purpose. The British might retreat farther into -the interior, but the river and its banks must be closed to them.</p> - -<p>We stood in the dark, but we could see the wavering lights of either -camp. The murmur as it came to us was very low. The two armies rested -as if they were sunk in a lethargy after their strenuous efforts of the -day. I did not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>regret my watch. I did not care to sleep. The fever of -the fight yet lingering in my blood, I was not so old to battle that I -could lie down and find slumber as soon as the fighting ended.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Shelby,” said Whitestone, “is there any rule or regulation against -a pipe to-night?”</p> - -<p>“I know of none, Whitestone,” I said.</p> - -<p>He was satisfied, and lighted his pipe, which increased his -satisfaction. I strolled about a little, watching the lights and -meditating upon the events of the day. The camps stood higher than I, -and they looked like huge black clouds shot through here and there -with bits of flame. I believed Whitestone’s assurance that Burgoyne -would retreat on the morrow; but I wondered what he would attempt after -that. Clinton’s arrival might save him, but it seemed to me that the -possibility of such an event was fast lessening. In this fashion I -passed an hour or two; then it occurred to me to approach the British -camp a little more closely and see what movements there might be on the -outskirts, if any. Telling Whitestone of my intent, I advanced some -forty or fifty yards. From that point, though still beyond rifle shot,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -I could see figures in the British camp when they passed between me and -the firelight.</p> - -<p>There was one light larger than the others—near the center of the camp -it seemed to be—and figures passed and repassed in front of it like a -procession. Presently I noticed that these shapes passed in fours, and -they were carrying something. It seemed a curious thing, and I watched -it a little; then I understood what they were doing: they were burying -the dead.</p> - -<p>I could easily have crept nearer and fired some bullets into the -British camp, but I had no such intent. That was the business -of others, and even then I could hear the far-away shots of the -sharpshooters.</p> - -<p>The sights of this stricken camp interested me. The ground was -favorable for concealment, and I crept nearer. Lying among some weeds I -could obtain a good view. The figures before indistinct and shapeless -now took form and outline. I could tell which were officers and which -were soldiers.</p> - -<p>Some men were digging in the hillside. They soon ceased, and four -others lifted a body from the grass and put it in the grave. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> woman -came forward and read from a little book. My heart thrilled when I -recognized the straight figure and earnest face of Kate Van Auken. Yet -there was no need for me to be surprised at the sight of her. It was -like her to give help on such a night.</p> - -<p>I could not hear the words, but I knew they were a prayer, and I bowed -my head. When she finished the prayer and they began to throw in the -earth, she walked away and I lost sight of her; but I guessed that she -went on to other and similar duties. I turned about to retreat, and -stumbled over a body.</p> - -<p>A feeble voice bade me be more careful, and not run over a gentleman -who was not bothering me but attending to his own business. A -British officer, very pale and weak—I could see that even in the -obscurity—sat up and looked reproachfully at me.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you rebels satisfied with beating us?” he asked in a faint -voice scarce above a whisper. “Do you want to trample on us too?”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” I said. “I did not see you.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> - -<p>“If any harm was done, your apology has removed it,” he replied most -politely.</p> - -<p>I looked at him with interest. His voice was not the only weak thing -about him. He seemed unable to sit up, but was in a half-reclining -position, with his shoulder propped against a stone. He was young.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” I asked, sympathizing much.</p> - -<p>“I’m in the most embarrassing position of my life,” he replied, with -a faint attempt at a laugh. “One of your confounded rebel bullets has -gone through both my thighs. I don’t think it has struck any bone, but -I have lost so much blood that I can neither walk, nor can I cry out -loud enough for my people to come and rescue me, nor for your people to -come and capture me. I think the bleeding has stopped. The blood seems -to have clogged itself up.”</p> - -<p>I was bound to admit that he had truly described his position as -embarrassing.</p> - -<p>“What would you do if you were in my place?” he asked.</p> - -<p>I didn’t know, and said so. Yet I had no mind to abandon him. The -positions reversed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> I would have a very cruel opinion of him were he -to abandon me. He could not see my face, and he must have had some idea -that I was going to desert him.</p> - -<p>“You won’t leave me, will you?” he asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>His tone appealed to me, and I assured him very warmly that I would -either take him a prisoner into our camp or send him into his own. Then -I sat my head to the task, for either way it was a problem. I doubted -whether I could carry him to our camp, which was far off comparatively, -as he looked like a heavy Briton. I certainly could carry him to his -own camp, which was very near, but that would make it uncommonly -embarrassing for me. I explained the difficulty to him.</p> - -<p>“That’s so,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t want you to get yourself -into trouble in order to get me out of it.”</p> - -<p>“What’s your name?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Hume. Ensign William Hume,” he replied.</p> - -<p>“You’re too young to die, Hume,” I said, “and I promise not to leave -you until you are in safety.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ll do the same for you,” he said, “if ever I find you lying on a -hillside with a bullet hole through both your thighs.”</p> - -<p>I sat down on the grass beside him, and gave him something strong out -of a little flask that I carried in an inside pocket. He drank it with -eagerness and gratitude and grew cheerful.</p> - -<p>I thought a few moments, and my idea came to me, as good ideas -sometimes do. As he could neither walk nor shout, it behooved me to do -both for him. Telling him my plan, of which he approved most heartily, -as he ought to have done, I lifted him in my arms and walked toward the -British camp. He was a heavy load and my breath grew hard.</p> - -<p>We were almost within reach of the firelight, and yet we were not -noticed by any of the British, who, I suppose, were absorbed in their -preparations. We came to a newly cut tree, intended probably for use in -the British fortifications. I put Ensign Hume upon this tree with his -back supported against an upthrust bough.</p> - -<p>“Now, don’t forget, when they come,” I said. “to tell them you managed -to crawl to this tree<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> and shout for help. That will prevent any -pursuit of me.”</p> - -<p>He promised, and shook hands with as strong a grip as he could, for he -was yet weak. Then I stepped back a few paces behind him, and shouted:</p> - -<p>“Help, help, comrades! Help! help!”</p> - -<p>Figures advanced from the firelight, and I glided away without noise. -From my covert in the darkness I could see them lift Hume from the tree -and carry him into his own camp. Then I went farther away, feeling glad.</p> - -<p>It was my intent to rejoin Whitestone and the soldiers, and in truth I -went back part of the way, but the British camp had a great attraction -for me. I was curious to see, as far as I could, what might be going -on in its outskirts. I also encouraged myself with the thought that I -might acquire information of value.</p> - -<p>Thus gazing about with no certain purpose, I saw a figure coming toward -me. One of our sharpshooters or spies returning from explorations, was -my first thought. But this thought quickly yielded to another, in which -wonderment was mingled to a marked extent. That<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> figure was familiar. I -had seen that swing, that manner, before.</p> - -<p>My wonderment increased, and I decided to observe closely. I stepped -farther aside that I might not be seen, of which, however, there was -but small chance, so long as I sought concealment.</p> - -<p>The figure veered a little from me, choosing a course where the night -lay thickest. I was unable to make up my mind about it. Once I had -taken another figure that looked like it for Albert, and once I had -taken it for Albert’s sister, and each time I had been wrong. Now I had -my choice, and also the results of experience, and remained perplexed.</p> - -<p>I resolved to follow. There might be mischief afoot. Albert was quite -capable of it, if Albert’s sister was not. The figure proceeded toward -our post, where I had left Whitestone in command for the time being. I -fell in behind, preserving a convenient distance between us.</p> - -<p>Ahead of us I saw a spark of fire, tiny but distinct. I knew very well -that it was the light of Whitestone’s pipe. I expected the figure -that I was following to turn aside, but it did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> not. Instead, after -a moment’s pause, as if for examination, it went straight on toward -the spark of light. I continued to follow. Whitestone was alone. The -soldiers were not visible. I suppose they were farther back.</p> - -<p>The gallant sergeant raised his rifle at sight of the approaching -figure, but dropped it when he perceived that nothing hostile was -intended.</p> - -<p>“Good evening, Miss Van Auken,” he said most politely. “Have you come -to surrender?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Kate, “but to make inquiries, sergeant, if you would be -so kind as to answer them.”</p> - -<p>“If it’s not against my duty,” replied Whitestone, with no abatement of -his courtesy.</p> - -<p>“I wanted to know if all my friends had escaped unhurt from the -battle,” she said. “I was going to ask about you first, sergeant, but I -see that it is not necessary.”</p> - -<p>“What others?” said the sergeant.</p> - -<p>“Well, there’s Mr. Shelby,” she said. “Albert said he saw him in that -fearful charge, the tumult of which frightened us so much.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, Mr. Shelby’s all right, ma’am,” replied the sergeant. “The fact -is, he’s in command of this very post, and he’s scouting about here -somewhere now. Any others, ma’am, you wish to ask about?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t recall any just now,” she said, “and I suppose I ought to go -back, or you might be compelled to arrest me as a spy, or something of -that kind.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant made another deep bow. Whitestone always thought he had -fine manners. Kate began her return. She did not see me, for I had -stepped aside. But I was very glad that I had seen her. I watched her -until she re-entered the British camp.</p> - -<p>When I rejoined Whitestone he assured me that nothing whatever had -happened in my absence, and, besides the men of our immediate command, -he had not seen a soul of either army. I did not dispute his word, for -I was satisfied.</p> - -<p>All night long the bustle continued in Burgoyne’s camp, and there was -no doubt of its meaning. Burgoyne would retreat on the morrow, in a -desperate attempt to gain time, hoping always that Clinton would come. -The next<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> day this certainty was fulfilled. The British army drew off, -and we followed in overwhelming force, content, so our generals seemed, -to wait for the prize without shedding blood in another pitched battle.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XII.</span> <span class="smaller">WE RIDE SOUTHWARD.</span></h2> - -<p>But it is not sufficient merely to win a battle. One must do more, -especially when another hostile army is approaching and one does not -know how near that army is, or how much nearer it will be.</p> - -<p>It was such a trouble as this that afflicted our generals after the -morning of the great victory. That other British army down the river -bothered them. They wanted exact information about Clinton, and my -colonel sent for me.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Shelby,” he said, “take the best horse you can find in the -regiment, ride with all haste to Albany, and farther south, if -necessary, find out all you can about Clinton, and gallop back to us -with the news. It is an important and perhaps a dangerous duty, but I -think you are a good man for it, and if you succeed, those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> much higher -in rank than I am will thank you.”</p> - -<p>I felt flattered, but I did not allow myself to be overwhelmed.</p> - -<p>“Colonel,” I said, “let me take Sergeant Whitestone with me; then, if -one of us should fall, the other can complete the errand.”</p> - -<p>But I did not have the possible fall of either of us in mind. -Whitestone and I understand each other, and he is good company. -Moreover, the sergeant is a handy man to have about in an emergency.</p> - -<p>The colonel consented promptly.</p> - -<p>“It is a good idea,” he said. “I should have thought of it myself.”</p> - -<p>But then colonels don’t always think of everything.</p> - -<p>Whitestone was very willing.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think anything will happen here before we get back,” he said, -looking off in the direction of Burgoyne’s army.</p> - -<p>In a half hour, good horses under us, we were galloping southward. We -expected to reach Albany in four hours.</p> - -<p>For a half hour we rode along, chiefly in silence, each occupied with -his own thoughts.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> Then I saw Whitestone fumbling in the inside pocket -of his waistcoat, and I knew that the pipe was coming. He performed -the feat of lighting it and smoking it without diminishing speed, and -looked at me triumphantly. I said nothing, knowing that no reply was -needed.</p> - -<p>My thoughts—and it was no trespass upon my soldierhood—were -elsewhere. I hold that I am not a sentimental fellow, but in the -ride to Albany I often saw the face of Kate Van Auken—Mrs. Captain -Chudleigh that was to be—a girl who was nothing to me, of course. Yet -I was glad that she was not a Tory and traitor, and I hoped Chudleigh -would prove to be the right sort of man.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be bound you’re thinking of some girl,” said Whitestone suddenly, -as he took his pipe from his mouth and held the stem judicially between -his thumb and forefinger.</p> - -<p>“Why?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“You look up at the sky, and not ahead of you; you sigh, and you’re -young,” replied Whitestone.</p> - -<p>But I swore that I was not thinking of any girl, and with all the more -emphasis because I was. Whitestone was considerate, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> and said -nothing more on the subject. Within the time set for ourselves we -reached Albany.</p> - -<p>Albany, as all the world knows, is an important town of Dutchmen. It is -built on top of a hill, down a steep hillside, and then into a bottom -by the river, which sometimes rises without an invitation from the -Dutchmen and washes out the houses in the bottom. I have heard that -many of these Dutchmen are not real Dutchmen, but have more English -blood in them. It is not a matter, however, that I care to argue, as it -is no business of mine what hobby horse one may choose to ride hard. -All I know is that these Albany Dutchmen are wide of girth and can -fight well, which is sufficient for the times.</p> - -<p>Whitestone and I rode along looking at the queer houses with their -gable ends to the street. We could see that the town was in a great -flurry, as it had a good right to be, with our army and Burgoyne’s -above it and Clinton’s below it, and nobody knowing what was about to -happen.</p> - -<p>“We must gather up the gossip of the town first,” I said to Whitestone. -“No doubt much of it will be false and more of it exaggerated,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> but it -will serve as an indication and tell us how to set about our work.”</p> - -<p>“Then here’s the place for us to begin gathering,” said Whitestone, -pointing to a low frame building through the open door of which many -voices and some strong odors of liquor came. Evidently it was a -drinking tavern, and I knew Whitestone was right when he said it was a -good place in which to collect rumors.</p> - -<p>We dismounted, hitched our horses to posts, and entered. As plenty of -American soldiers were about the town, we had no fear that our uniforms -would attract special attention. In truth we saw several uniforms like -ours in the room, which was well crowded with an assemblage most mixed -and noisy. Whitestone and I each ordered a glass of the Albany whisky -tempered with water, and found it to be not bad after a long and weary -ride. I have observed that a good toddy cuts the dust out of one’s -throat in excellent fashion. Feeling better we stood around with the -others and listened to the talk, of which there was no lack. In truth, -some of it was very strange and remarkable.</p> - -<p>The news of our great battle had reached<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> the Albany people, but in a -vague and contrary fashion, and we found that we had beaten Burgoyne; -that Burgoyne had beaten us; that Burgoyne was fleeing with all speed -toward Canada; that he would be in Albany before night. Those who know -always feel so superior to those who don’t know that Whitestone and I -were in a state of great satisfaction.</p> - -<p>But the conversation soon turned from Burgoyne to Clinton, and then -Whitestone and I grew eager. Our eagerness turned to alarm, for we -heard that Clinton, with a great fleet and a great army, was pressing -toward Albany with all haste.</p> - -<p>Good cause for alarm was this, and, however much it might be -exaggerated, we had no doubt that the gist of it was the truth.</p> - -<p>I made a sign to Whitestone, and we slipped quietly out of the tavern, -not wishing to draw any notice to ourselves. Despite our caution, two -men followed us outside. I had observed one of these men looking at -me in the tavern, but he had turned his eyes away when mine met his. -Outside he came up to me and said boldly, though in a low voice:</p> - -<p>“Have you come from the south?” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No,” I said carelessly, thinking to turn him off.</p> - -<p>“Then you have come from the north, from the battlefield,” he said in a -tone of conviction.</p> - -<p>“What makes you think so?” I asked, annoyed.</p> - -<p>“You and your companion are covered with dust and your horses with -perspiration,” he replied, “and you have ridden far and hard.”</p> - -<p>I could not guess the man’s purpose, but I took him and the others -with him to be Tories, spies of the British, who must be numerous -about Albany. I do not like to confess it, but it is true that in our -province of New York the Tories were about as many as, perhaps more -than, the patriots. We might denounce the men, but we had no proof at -all against them. Moreover, we could not afford to get into a wrangle -on such a mission as ours.</p> - -<p>“You were at the battle,” said the man shrewdly, “and you have come in -all haste to Albany.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what if we were?” I said in some heat. His interference and -impertinence were enough to make me angry. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But I did not say from which army you came,” he said, assuming an air -of great acuteness and knowledge.</p> - -<p>I was in doubt. Did the man take us for Tory spies—I grew angrier -still at the thought—or was he merely trying to draw us on to the -telling of what he knew? While I hesitated, he added:</p> - -<p>“I know that Burgoyne held his own in a severe battle fought yesterday. -That is no news to you. But if you go about the town a little, you will -also know what I know, that Clinton, in overwhelming force, will soon -be at Albany.”</p> - -<p>I was convinced now that the man was trying to draw from me the facts -about the battle, and I believed more than ever that he and his -comrades were Tory spies. I regretted that Whitestone and I had not -removed the dust of travel before we entered the tavern. I regretted -also that so many of our countrymen should prove faithless to us. It -would have been far easier for us had we only the British and the hired -Hessians to fight.</p> - -<p>Whitestone was leaning against his horse, bridle in hand, looking at -the solitary cloud that the sky contained. Apparently the sergeant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> was -off in dreams, but I knew he was listening intently. He let his eyes -fall, and when they met mine, he said, very simply and carelessly:</p> - -<p>“I think we’d better go.”</p> - -<p>As I said, the sergeant is a very handy man to have about in an -emergency. His solution was the simplest in the world—merely to ride -away from the men and leave them.</p> - -<p>We mounted our horses.</p> - -<p>“Good day, gentlemen,” we said.</p> - -<p>“Good day,” they replied.</p> - -<p>Then we left them, and when I looked back, at our first turning, they -were still standing at the door of the tavern. But I gave them little -further thought, for Clinton and his advancing fleet and army must now -receive the whole attention of the sergeant and myself.</p> - -<p>It was obvious that we must leave Albany, go down the river, and get -exact news about the British. It was easy enough for us to pass out of -the town and continue our journey. We had been provided with the proper -papers in case of trouble.</p> - -<p>We had given our horses rest and food in Albany, and rode at a good -pace for an hour. Not far away we could see the Hudson, a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> ribbon -of silver or gray, as sunshine or cloud fell upon it. I was occupied -with the beauty of the scene, when Whitestone called my attention and -pointed ahead. Fifty yards away, and in the middle of the road, stood -two horsemen motionless. They seemed to be planted there as guards, yet -they wore no uniforms.</p> - -<p>I felt some anxiety, but reflected that the horsemen must be countrymen -waiting, through curiosity or friendship, for approaching travelers in -such troublous times. But as we rode nearer I saw that I was mistaken.</p> - -<p>“Our inquiring friends of the tavern,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>He spoke the truth. I recognized them readily. When we were within -fifteen feet they drew their horses across the way, blocking it.</p> - -<p>“What does this mean, gentlemen? Why do you stop us?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“We are an American patrol,” replied the foremost of the two, the one -who had questioned me at the tavern, “and we can not let anybody pass -here. It is against our orders.”</p> - -<p>Both wore ragged Continental coats, which I suppose they had brought -out of some recess before they started on the circuit ahead of us. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> - -<p>I signed to Whitestone to keep silent, and rode up close to the leader.</p> - -<p>“We ought to understand each other,” I said, speaking in a confident -and confidential tone.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously.</p> - -<p>I burst out laughing, as if I were enjoying the best joke in the world.</p> - -<p>“I hate rebels,” I said, leaning over and tapping him familiarly on the -shoulder with my finger.</p> - -<p>“I don’t understand you,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I mean that you hate rebels too,” I replied, “and that you are just as -much of a rebel as I am.”</p> - -<p>“Hi should think so! Hi could tell by the look hof their countenances -that they are hof the right sort,” broke in Whitestone, dropping every -h where it belonged and putting on every one where it did not belong.</p> - -<p>It was Whitestone’s first and last appearance on any occasion as an -Englishman, but it was most successful.</p> - -<p>A look of intelligence appeared on the faces of the two men. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Of Bayle’s regiment in Burgoyne’s army, both of us,” I said.</p> - -<p>“I thought it, back yonder in Albany,” said the leader, “but why did -you fence us off so?”</p> - -<p>“One doesn’t always know his friends, first glance, especially in rebel -towns,” I said. “Like you, I thought so, but I couldn’t take the risk -and declare myself until I knew more about you.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” he acknowledged. “These rebels are so cursedly sly.”</p> - -<p>“Very, very sly,” I said, “but we’ve fooled ’em this time.”</p> - -<p>I pointed to their Continental coats and to ours. Then we laughed all -together.</p> - -<p>“Tell me what really happened up there,” said the man.</p> - -<p>“It was a great battle,” I said, “but we drove them off the field, and -we can take care of ourselves. Six thousand British and German veterans -care little for all the raw militia this country can raise.”</p> - -<p>“That’s so,” he said. We laughed again, all together.</p> - -<p>“How is everything down there?” I asked, nodding my head toward the -south. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Clinton’s coming with a strong fleet and five thousand men,” he -replied. “What they say in the town is all true.”</p> - -<p>“Small thanks he will get from Burgoyne,” I said. “Our general will -like it but little when Clinton comes to strip him of part of his -glory.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you are right,” he answered, “but I did not think Burgoyne -was finding his way so easy. I understood that the first battle at -Saratoga stopped him.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you trouble yourself about Burgoyne,” I said. “If he stopped, he -stopped for ample reasons.”</p> - -<p>Which was no lie.</p> - -<p>“But we must hasten,” I continued. “Our messages to Clinton will bear -no delay.”</p> - -<p>“Luck with you,” they said.</p> - -<p>“Luck with you,” we replied, waving our hands in friendly salute as we -rode away, still to the south.</p> - -<p>Whether they ever found out the truth I do not know, for I never saw or -heard of either again.</p> - -<p>We continued our journey in silence for some time. Whitestone looked -melancholy. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What is the matter?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“It was too easy,” he replied. “I always pity fools.”</p> - -<p>He lighted his pipe and sought consolation.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIII.</span> <span class="smaller">WE MEET THE FLEET.</span></h2> - -<p>The night soon came and was very dark. We were compelled to stop for -rest and for food, which we found at a farmer’s house. But we were -satisfied with our day’s work. We had started, and with the appearance -of fact too, the report that Burgoyne had beaten us in pitched battle. -We knew the report would be carried far and wide, and Clinton would -think haste was not needed. Let me repeat that to win a battle is not -to win a campaign, and I hold no general’s commission either.</p> - -<p>In the morning we met a few countrymen in a state of much fright. -“Clinton is coming!” was all that we could get from them. We thought -it more than likely that Clinton was coming in truth, since all the -reports said he and his ships ought to be very near now.</p> - -<p>“The river is the place to look,” said Whitestone. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> - -<p>We turned our horses that way, and in a few minutes stood upon its high -banks.</p> - -<p>“See,” said Whitestone, pointing a long arm and an outstretched finger.</p> - -<p>I saw, and I saw, moreover, that our search was ended. Far down the -river was the British fleet, a line of white specks upon the silver -bosom of the water. We could scarce trace hull or sail or mast, but -ships they were without mistake, and British ships they must be, since -we had none. It was not a pleasant sight for us, but it would have -rejoiced the heart of Burgoyne had he been there to see.</p> - -<p>We knew that Clinton must have several thousand men either on board -the fleet or not far below, and we knew also that with such a strong -force nothing could prevent his speedy arrival at Albany if he chose to -hasten. I knew not what to do. Ought we to go back at once to our army -with the news of what we had seen, or ought we to stay and find out -more? On one side was time saved, and on the other better information. -I put it to Whitestone, but he was as uncertain as I.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the fleet grew under the horizon of the river. We could trace -masts and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> spars, and see the sails as they filled out with the wind. -The little black figures on the decks were men.</p> - -<p>A quarter of a mile or more below us we saw a rocky projection into -the river. I proposed to Whitestone that we ride at least that far and -decide afterward on further action.</p> - -<p>We rode rapidly, but before we were halfway to the place we met men -running—frightened men at that. Their condition of mind showed plainly -on their faces. They wore militia uniforms, and we knew them to be -some of our citizen soldiery, who are sometimes a very speedy lot, -not being trained to the military business. We tried to stop them and -find out why they were running and whence they came; but all we could -get out of them was, “The British are coming, with a hundred ships and -forty thousand men!” At last, half by persuasion and half by force, -we induced one man to halt; he explained that he had been sent with -the others to man a battery of four guns on the point. When they saw -the British fleet coming, some of the raw militia had taken fright and -fled, carrying the others with them. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But the ships may not be here for an hour,” I protested.</p> - -<p>“So much the better,” he said, “for it gives us the more time.”</p> - -<p>We released him, and he followed his flying comrades. Whitestone and I -looked ruefully after them, but I suggested that we continue our ride -to the point. Even with the ships abreast us in the river, it would be -easy for us to ride away and escape the British. We rode as rapidly as -the ground would allow, and soon reached the point and the deserted -battery.</p> - -<p>I could have sworn with vexation at the flight of our militia. It was -a pretty battery, well planted, four trim eighteen pounders, plenty of -powder, shot neatly piled, and a flag still flying from a tall pole. -Whoever selected the place for the battery knew his business—which -does not always happen in the military life. I looked again in the -direction of the fleeing militia, but the back of the last man had -disappeared.</p> - -<p>“What a pity!” I said regretfully to Whitestone. “At least they might -have trimmed the rigging a little for those British ships down yonder.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t understand one thing,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” I asked.</p> - -<p>He took his pipe from his mouth and tapped the bowl of it significantly -with the index finger of his left hand.</p> - -<p>“I can smoke that pipe, can’t I?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I should think so!”</p> - -<p>“So could you if you had a chance, couldn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly.”</p> - -<p>“Those men who ran away could fire a cannon; so could——”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean it, Whitestone?” I asked, the blood flying to my head at -the thought.</p> - -<p>“Mean it? I should think I did,” he replied. “I used to be in the -artillery, and I can handle a cannon pretty well. So can you, I think. -Here are the cannon, there’s ammunition a-plenty, and over us flies the -brand-new flag. What more do you want?”</p> - -<p>He replaced his pipe in his mouth, sat down on the breech of a gun, and -gave himself up to content. I looked at him in admiration. I approve of -so many of Whitestone’s ideas, and I liked few better than this. I was -young. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Good enough, Whitestone,” I said. “I, as commander, indorse the -suggestion of my chief assistant.”</p> - -<p>We took our horses out of the range of the guns on the ships and -fastened them securely, as we were thinking of our future needs. Then -we came back to our battery. Evidently the original defenders had -desired the battery to appear very formidable, for in addition to their -real guns they had planted eight Quaker guns, which, seen from the -center of the river, would look very threatening, I had no doubt. The -four guns, genuine and true, were charged almost to the muzzle.</p> - -<p>“I think they have seen us,” said Whitestone, pointing to the ships.</p> - -<p>It was a strong fleet—frigates and sloops. It was plain that they had -seen us and had not been expecting us, for the ships were taking in -sail and hovering about in an uncertain way. Officers in gilt and gold -stood on their decks watching us through glasses.</p> - -<p>“Keep down, Whitestone,” I said. “We must not give them any hint as to -the size of our force.”</p> - -<p>“But I think we ought to give ’em a hint<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> that we’re loaded for bear,” -said Whitestone. “What do you say to a shot at the nearest frigate, Mr. -Shelby. I think she is within long range.”</p> - -<p>I approved, and Whitestone fired. In the stillness of a country morning -the report was frightfully distinct, and the echo doubling upon and -repeating itself seemed to travel both up and down the river. The -shot was well aimed. It smashed right into the frigate, and there was -confusion on her decks. I fired the second gun, and down came some -spars and rigging on the same ship. Whitestone rubbed his hands in -glee. I shouted to him to lie close, and obeyed my own command as -promptly as he. The frigate was about to return our salute.</p> - -<p>She swung around and let us have a broadside, which did great damage to -the rocks and the shore. But Whitestone and I remained cozy and safe. A -large sloop came up closer than the frigate and fired a volley, which -sailed peacefully over our heads and made a prodigious disturbance -among the trees beyond us.</p> - -<p>“Can you get at that third gun, Whitestone?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing easier!” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Then give that spiteful sloop a shot. Teach her it isn’t safe for a -sloop to come where a frigate can’t stay.”</p> - -<p>Whitestone obeyed, and his shot was most glorious. The chunk of lead -struck the sloop between wind and water and must have gone right -through her, for presently she began to sheer off, the signs of -distress visible all over her, as if she were taking in water at the -rate of a thousand gallons a minute. I clapped Whitestone on the back -and shouted “Hurrah!”</p> - -<p>But our lucky shot had stirred up the full wrath of the fleet. The -ships formed in line of battle and opened their batteries on us, firing -sometimes one after the other, and sometimes nearly all together. I -dare say the cliffs of the Hudson, in all their long existence, have -never received such another furious bombardment. Oh, it was a bad day -for the trees and the bushes and the rocks, which were beaten and -battered and cut and crushed by eighteen-pound shot and twelve-pound -shot and six-pound shot, and the Lord knows what, until the river -itself fell into a rage and began to lash its waters into a turmoil!</p> - -<p>But Whitestone and I, with all this infernal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> uproar around us, lay -in our brave earthworks as snug and cozy as chipmunks, and laughed to -think that we were the cause of it all. I rolled over to Whitestone and -shouted in his ear:</p> - -<p>“As soon as the eruption diminishes a little we will try a fourth shot -at them!”</p> - -<p>He grinned, and both of us embraced the earth for some minutes longer. -Then the fire of the enemy began to abate. We took the first chance to -peep out at them, but the volume of smoke over the river was so great -and so dense that we could see the ships but indistinctly.</p> - -<p>As for ourselves, we had suffered little. One of our guns was -dismounted, but it was a Quaker, and no harm was done. The fire dying, -the clouds of smoke began to float away and the ships were disclosed. -Whitestone and I, peeping over our earthworks, beheld a scene of great -animation and excitement. The British were working hard; there was no -doubt of it. The bustle on the decks was tremendous. Officers were -shouting to men and to each other; men were reloading cannon and making -every preparation to renew the bombardment when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> their officers might -order it. One frigate had come too near, and was grounded slightly in -shallowing water. Her crew were making gigantic efforts to get her off -before our terrible battery could blow her to pieces.</p> - -<p>The captains were using their glasses to see what was left of us, and I -could guess their chagrin when they beheld us looking as formidable and -as whole as ever, barring the dismounted Quaker. Our escape from injury -was not so wonderful after all. We defenders were only two, and we made -a very small target; while if the battery had been crowded with men the -death rate would have been prodigious.</p> - -<p>“There goes the frigate!” I cried. “They’ve got her off! Give her a -good-by as she goes, Whitestone!”</p> - -<p>He was lying next to the fourth gun, and he instantly sent a shot -smashing into the vessel. But the shot was like a veritable torch to -a powder magazine, for the fleet attacked us again with every gun it -could bring to bear. The first bombardment seemed to have aroused -fresh spirit and energy for the second, and Whitestone and I, taking -no chances with peeps,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> thrust our fingers into our ears and our heads -into the ground.</p> - -<p>But we could not keep out the heavy crash-crash of the volleys, -blending now and then into a continuous roar, which the river and -the horizon took up and repeated. King George must have had a pretty -powder-and-shot bill to pay for that day’s work.</p> - -<p>The clouds of smoke gathered in a vast black canopy over river and -ships, shore and battery. Under and through it appeared now and then -the dark lines of spars and ropes, and always the blazing flash of -many great guns. If the stony shores of the Hudson did not suffer -most grievously, let it not be charged against the British, for they -displayed a spirit and energy, if not a marksmanship, worthy of their -reputation.</p> - -<p>I rejoiced at the vigor of their fire. Its volume was so great, and -they must be working so hard, that they could not know the battery was -making no answer.</p> - -<p>By and by the cannoneers waxed weary of loading and firing, and -the officers of giving orders. The crash of the great guns became -more infrequent. The flash of the powder bore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> less resemblance to -continuous lightning. The smoke began to drift away. Then the defenders -of the battery rose up in their courage and strength, reloaded their -guns, and opened fire on the fleet.</p> - -<p>I love to think that the British were surprised most unpleasantly. -Their fire was waning, but ours was not, it seemed to them. The -mischievous little battery was still there, and they had neither -reduced it nor passed it. It was mirth to us to think how easily they -could pass us, and yet preferred to reduce us.</p> - -<p>“By all that’s glorious,” exclaimed Whitestone, “they’re retreating!”</p> - -<p>It was so. The ships were hauling off, whether to refit for another -attack or to consult for future action we did not know. We gave them a -few shots as they drew away, and presently they anchored out of range. -Boats were launched, and men in gold-laced caps and coats were rowed to -the largest frigate.</p> - -<p>“The admiral has called a conference, I guess,” I said to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>He nodded, and we inspected our battery to see how it had stood the -second bombardment. Two more Quaker guns were dismounted, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> one -of them we were able to put again into fairly presentable condition. -That done, we took some refreshment from our knapsacks, and awaited -in calmness the next movement of our enemies. As it was, we flattered -ourselves that we had made a gallant fight.</p> - -<p>We waited a half hour, and then a boat put out from the big frigate. -Besides the oarsmen, it contained a richly dressed officer and a white -flag. They came directly toward us.</p> - -<p>“A flag of truce and a conference,” I said. “Shall we condescend, -Whitestone?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” replied Whitestone. “We ought to hear what they have to say.”</p> - -<p>“Then you remain in command of the battery,” I said, “and I will meet -the officer.”</p> - -<p>I scrambled down the high cliff to the water’s edge and awaited the -boat, which I was determined should not come too near. When it came -within speaking distance, I hailed the officer and ordered him to stop.</p> - -<p>“I am Captain Middleton,” he called, “and I am commissioned by our -commander to speak to your commander.”</p> - -<p>“General Arnold saw you coming,” I said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> “and sent me to meet you and -hear what you have to say.”</p> - -<p>“General Arnold!” he exclaimed in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Yes, General Arnold, the commander of our battery,” I replied.</p> - -<p>I mentioned General Arnold because of his great reputation then as a -fighting general. And a fighting general he was, too; I will say it, -traitor though he afterward proved to be.</p> - -<p>“I thought General Arnold was with Gates,” said the officer.</p> - -<p>“Oh, they quarreled,” I replied airily, which was the truth, “and -General Arnold, being relieved of his command up there, has come down -here to fight this battery. You have seen for yourself that he knows -how to do it.”</p> - -<p>“It is true,” he said, “your fire was very warm.”</p> - -<p>He looked up at the battery, but I would not let him come within fifty -feet of the shore, and he could see nothing save the earthworks and -some of the gun muzzles.</p> - -<p>“It can be made warmer,” I said confidently, not boastingly. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have come to summon you to surrender,” he said. “We will offer you -good terms.”</p> - -<p>“Surrender!” I laughed in scorn. “Why, my dear captain, you have made -no impression upon us yet, while we have scarred your ships a bit.”</p> - -<p>“That is a fact,” he said. “You have handled your eighteen-pounders -well.”</p> - -<p>“Twenty-four pounders,” I corrected.</p> - -<p>“I did not know they were so heavy,” he said. “That accounts for the -strength of your fire.”</p> - -<p>He seemed pleased at the discovery. It made an excuse for his side.</p> - -<p>“No doubt General Arnold can do something with a battery of twelve -twenty-four pounders,” he began.</p> - -<p>“Eighteen twenty-four pounders,” I corrected. “You can not see all the -muzzles.”</p> - -<p>He looked very thoughtful. I knew that he was impressed by the -exceeding strength of our battery.</p> - -<p>“But about the proposition to surrender,” he began.</p> - -<p>“I will not take such an offer to General Arnold,” I exclaimed -indignantly. “In fact, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> have my instructions from him. He’ll sink -every ship you have, or be blown to pieces himself.”</p> - -<p>Captain Middleton, after this emphatic declaration, which I am sure I -made in a most convincing manner, seemed to think further talk would be -a waste, and gave the word to his oarsmen to pull back to his ship.</p> - -<p>“Good day,” he said very courteously.</p> - -<p>“Good day,” said I with equal courtesy. Then I climbed back up -the cliff and re-enforced the garrison. I watched Middleton as he -approached the flagship. He mounted to the deck and the officers -crowded around him. In a half hour the ships bore up again, formed -line of battle, and opened upon us a third terrific bombardment, which -we endured with the same calmness and success. When they grew tired -we gave them a few shots, which did some execution, and then, to our -infinite delight, they slipped their cables and fell back down the -river.</p> - -<p>“When they find out what we really are they’ll come again to-morrow and -blow us to splinters,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“Yes, but we’ll be far away from here then,” said I, “and we may have -held them back a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> day at least. Why, man, even an hour is worth much to -our army up yonder!”</p> - -<p>We were in a state of supreme satisfaction, also in a state of hurry. -There was nothing more for us to do in the south, and it was our -business to hasten northward with the news we had. I rejoiced greatly. -I hoped that Clinton would continue to fiddle his time away below -Albany, impressed by the risks he was taking, thanks to our brave -battery.</p> - -<p>We found our horses nearly dead from fright, but a few kicks restored -life, and we rode northward in all haste. At Albany we changed horses, -evaded questions, and resumed our ride. In the night we reached our -own camp, and as soon as we had reported sought the rest we needed so -badly, and, I think, deserved so well.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIV.</span> <span class="smaller">THE PURSUIT OF CHUDLEIGH.</span></h2> - -<p>Having returned, I expected to share in the pursuit of Burgoyne, -and wondered to what particular duty I would be assigned. But a man -never knows at seven o’clock what he will be doing at eight o’clock, -and before eight o’clock had come I was called by the colonel of our -regiment.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Shelby,” he said, “you have already shown yourself intelligent and -vigilant on important service.”</p> - -<p>I listened, feeling sure that I was going to have something very -disagreeable to do. You can depend upon it when your superior begins -with formal flattery. I had just finished one important task, but the -more you do the more people expect of you.</p> - -<p>“One of our prisoners has escaped,” he said; “a keen-witted man who -knows the country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> He has escaped to the south. As you know so well, -Sir Henry Clinton is, or has been, advancing up the Hudson with a -strong force to the aid of Burgoyne, whom nothing else can save from -us. This man—this prisoner who has escaped—must not be permitted -to reach Clinton with the news that Burgoyne is almost done for. It -was important before the last battle that no messenger from Burgoyne -should pass through our lines; it is still more important to-day. You -understand?”</p> - -<p>I bowed, as a sign that I understood.</p> - -<p>“This escaped prisoner knows everything that has happened,” he resumed, -“and he must be overtaken. He will probably follow the direct road -along the river, as he knows that haste is necessary. How many men do -you want?”</p> - -<p>I named Whitestone and a private, a strong, ready-witted fellow named -Adams.</p> - -<p>“What is the name of the man we are to capture?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Chudleigh—Captain Ralph Chudleigh,” he replied. “A tall man, dark -hair and eyes, twenty-six to twenty-eight years of age. Do you know -him?” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> - -<p>I replied that I knew him.</p> - -<p>“So much the better,” said our colonel with much delight. “Aside from -your other qualifications, Mr. Shelby, you are the man of all men for -this duty. Chudleigh will undoubtedly attempt to disguise himself, but -since you know him so well he can scarce hide his face from you. But -remember that he must be taken, dead or alive.”</p> - -<p>I had not much relish for the mission in the first place, and, for -reasons, less relish when I knew that Chudleigh was the man whom I was -to take. But in such affairs as these it is permitted to the soldier to -choose only the one thing, and that is, to obey.</p> - -<p>We set out at once over the same road we had traveled twice so -recently. Three good horses had been furnished us, and we were well -armed. For a while we rode southward with much speed, and soon left -behind us the last detachment of our beleaguering army.</p> - -<p>One question perplexed me: Would Chudleigh be in his own British -uniform, which he wore when he escaped, or did he manage to take away -with him some rags of Continental attire, in which he would clothe -himself first chance?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> I could answer it only by watching for all men -of suspicious appearance, no matter the cut or color of their clothing.</p> - -<p>We galloped along a fair road, but we met no one. Quiet travelers shun -ground trodden by armies. It was past the noon hour when we came to a -small house not far from the roadside. We found the farmer who owned -it at home, and in answer to our questions, fairly spoken, he said -three men had passed that day, two going north and one going south, all -dressed as ordinary citizens. I was particularly interested in the one -going south, and asked more about him.</p> - -<p>“He was tall, dark, and young,” said the farmer. “He looked like a man -of small consequence, for his clothing was ragged and his face not -overclean. He wanted food, and he ate with much appetite.”</p> - -<p>I asked if the man had paid for his dinner, and the farmer showed me -silver fresh from the British mint. I could well believe that this was -Chudleigh. However wary and circumspect he might be he was bound to -have food, and he could find it only by going to the houses he saw on -his southern journey. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> - -<p>I was confirmed in my belief an hour later, when we met a countryman -on foot, who at first evinced a great desire to run away from us, but -who stopped, seeing our uniforms. He explained that he knew not whom -to trust, for a short while before he was riding like ourselves; now -he had no horse; a ragged man meeting him in the road had presented a -pistol at his head and ordered him to give up his horse, which he did -with much promptness, as the man’s finger lay very caressingly upon the -trigger of the pistol.</p> - -<p>“That was Chudleigh without doubt,” I said to Whitestone, “and since he -also is now mounted we must have a race for it.”</p> - -<p>He agreed with me, and we whipped our horses into a gallop again. In -reality I had not much acquaintance with Chudleigh, but I trusted that -I would know his face anywhere. Secure in this belief we pressed on.</p> - -<p>“Unless he’s left the road to hide—and that’s not probable, for he -can’t afford delay—we ought to overhaul him soon,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>The road led up and down a series of lightly undulating hills. Just -when we reached one crest we saw the back of a horseman on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -next crest, about a quarter of a mile ahead of us. By a species of -intuition I knew that it was Chudleigh. Aside from my intuition, all -the probabilities indicated Chudleigh, for we had the word of the -dismounted farmer that his lead of us was but short.</p> - -<p>“That’s our man!” exclaimed Whitestone, echoing our thought.</p> - -<p>As if by the same impulse, all three of us clapped spur to horse, and -forward we went at a gallop that sent the wind rushing past us. We -were much too far away for the fugitive to hear the hoof-beats of our -horses, but by chance, I suppose, he happened to look back and saw us -coming at a pace that indicated zeal. I saw him give his mount a great -kick in the side, and the horse bounded forward so promptly that in -thirty seconds the curve of the hill hid both horse and rider from -our view. But that was not a matter discouraging to us. The river was -on one side of us not far away, and on the other cultivated fields -inclosed with fences. Chudleigh could not leave the road unless he -dismounted. He was bound to do one of two things, outgallop us or yield.</p> - -<p>We descended our hill and soon rose upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> the slope of Chudleigh’s. -When we reached the crest, we saw him in the hollow beyond urging his -horse to its best speed. He was bent far over upon the animal’s neck, -and occasionally he gave him lusty kicks in the side. It was evident -to us that whatever speed might be in that horse Chudleigh would get -it out of him. And so would I, thought I, if I were in his place. A -fugitive could scarce have more inducement than Chudleigh to escape.</p> - -<p>Measuring the distance with my eye, I concluded that we had gained a -little. I drew from it the inference that we would certainly overtake -him. Moreover, Chudleigh was making the mistake of pushing his horse -too hard at the start.</p> - -<p>It is better to pursue than to be pursued, and a great elation of -spirits seized me. The cool air rushing into my face and past my ears -put bubbles in my blood.</p> - -<p>“This beats watching houses in the night, does it not, Whitestone?” I -said.</p> - -<p>“Aye, truly,” replied the sober sergeant, “unless he has a pistol and -concludes to use it.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> - -<p>“We will not fire until he does, or shows intent to do so,” I said.</p> - -<p>Whitestone and Adams nodded assent, and we eased our horses a bit that -we might save their strength and speed. This maneuver enabled the -fugitive to gain slightly upon us, but we felt no alarm; instead we -were encouraged, for his horse was sure to become blown before ours put -forth their best efforts.</p> - -<p>Chudleigh raised up once to look back at us. Of course it was too far -for us to see the expression of his face, but in my imagination anxiety -was plainly writ there.</p> - -<p>“How long a race will it be, do you think?” I asked Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“About four miles,” he said, “unless a stumble upsets our calculations, -and I don’t think we’ll have the latter, for the road looks smooth all -the way.”</p> - -<p>The fugitive began to kick his horse with more frequency, which -indicated increased anxiety.</p> - -<p>“It won’t be four miles,” I said to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“You’re right,” he replied; “maybe not three.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> - -<p>In truth it looked as if Whitestone’s second thought were right. We -began to gain without the necessity of urging our horses. Chudleigh -already had driven his own animal to exhaustion. I doubted if the race -would be a matter of two miles. I wondered why he did not try a shot -at us with his pistols. Bullets are often great checks to the speed of -pursuers, and Chudleigh must have known it.</p> - -<p>At the end of a mile we were gaining so rapidly that we could have -reached the fugitive with a pistol ball, but I was averse to such rude -methods, doubly so since he showed no intent on his own part to resort -to them.</p> - -<p>A half mile ahead of us I saw a small house in a field by the roadside, -but I took no thought of it until Chudleigh reached a parallel point in -the road; then we were surprised to see him leap to the ground, leave -his horse to go where it would, climb the fence, and rush toward the -house. He pushed the door open, ran in, and closed it behind him.</p> - -<p>I concluded that he had given up all hope of escape except through a -desperate defense, and I made hasty disposition of my small command. I -was to approach the house from one side,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> Whitestone from another, and -Adams from a third.</p> - -<p>We hitched our horses and began our siege of the house, from which no -sound issued. I approached from the front, using a fence as shelter. -When I was within half a pistol shot the door of the house was thrown -open with much force and rudeness, and a large woman, a cocked musket -in her hand and anger on her face, appeared. She saw me, and began to -berate me rapidly and wrathfully, at the same time making threatening -movements with the musket. She cried out that she had small use for -those who were Tories now and Americans then, and robbers and murderers -always. I explained that we were American soldiers in pursuit of an -escaped prisoner of importance who had taken refuge in her house, and -commanded her to stand aside and let us pass.</p> - -<p>For answer she berated me more than ever, saying that it was but a -pretext about a prisoner, and her husband was a better American than -we. That put a most uncomfortable suspicion in my mind, and, summoning -Whitestone, we held parley with her. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You have pursued my husband until there is scarce a breath left in his -body,” she said.</p> - -<p>Whereupon, having pacified her to some extent, we went into the house -and found that she spoke the truth. Her husband was stretched upon a -bed quite out of breath, in part from his gallop and more from fright. -We could scarce persuade him that we were not those outlaws who -belonged to neither army but who preyed upon whomsoever they could.</p> - -<p>Making such brief apologies as the time allowed, we mounted our horses -and resumed the search.</p> - -<p>“It was a mistake,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>I admitted that he spoke the truth, and resolved I would trust no more -to intuitions, which are sent but to deceive us.</p> - -<p>Anxiety now took me in a strong grip. Our mistaken chase had caused -us to come very fast, and since we saw nothing of Chudleigh, I feared -lest we had passed him in some manner. It therefore cheered me much, a -half hour later, when I saw a stout man, whom I took to be a farmer, -jogging comfortably toward us on a stout nag as comfortable-looking as -himself. He was not like the other, suspicious and afraid,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> and I was -glad of it, for I said to myself that here was a man of steady habit -and intelligence, a man who would tell us the truth and tell it clearly.</p> - -<p>He came on in most peaceable and assuring fashion, as if not a soldier -were within a thousand miles of him. I hailed him, and he replied with -a pleasant salutation.</p> - -<p>“Have you met a man riding southward?” I said.</p> - -<p>“What kind of a man?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“A large man in citizen’s dress,” I replied.</p> - -<p>“Young, or old?”</p> - -<p>“Young—twenty-six or twenty-eight.”</p> - -<p>“Anything else special about him?”</p> - -<p>“Dark hair and eyes and dark complexion; his horse probably very tired.”</p> - -<p>“What do you want with this man?” he asked, stroking a red whisker with -a contemplative hand.</p> - -<p>“He is an escaped prisoner,” I replied, “and it is of the greatest -importance that we recapture him.”</p> - -<p>“Did you say he was rather young? Looked like he might be six and -twenty or eight and twenty?” he asked. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, that is he,” I said eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Tall, rather large?”</p> - -<p>“The very man.”</p> - -<p>“Dark hair and eyes and dark complexion?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly! Exactly!”</p> - -<p>“His horse very tired?”</p> - -<p>“Our man beyond a doubt! Which way did he go?”</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen, I never saw or heard of such a man,” he replied gravely, -laying switch to his horse and riding on.</p> - -<p>We resumed our journey, vexation keeping us silent for some time.</p> - -<p>“Our second mistake,” said Whitestone at length.</p> - -<p>As I did not answer, he added:</p> - -<p>“But the third time means luck.”</p> - -<p>“I doubt it,” I replied. My disbelief in signs and omens was confirmed -by the failure of my intuition.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XV.</span> <span class="smaller">THE TAKING OF CHUDLEIGH.</span></h2> - -<p>We were forced to ride with some slowness owing to the blown condition -of our horses, and anxiety began to gnaw me to the marrow. We had come -so fast that the time to overtake Chudleigh, if in truth we had not -passed him already, had arrived. In such calculations I was interrupted -by the sight of a loose horse in the road, saddled and bridled, but -riderless. He was in a lather, like ours, and I guessed at once that -this was the horse Chudleigh had taken. In some manner—perhaps he had -seen us, though unseen himself—he had learned that he was pursued -hotly, and, fearing to be overtaken, had abandoned his horse and taken -to the woods and fields. Such at least was my guess.</p> - -<p>I esteemed it great good luck when I saw a man standing in the edge -of a cornfield staring at us. He was a common-looking fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> with a -dirty face. Stupid, I thought, but perhaps he has seen what happened -here and can tell me. I hailed him, and he answered in a thick voice, -though not unfriendly. I asked him about the horse, and if he knew who -had abandoned him there. He answered with that degree of excitement a -plowboy would most likely show on such occasions that he was just going -to tell us about it. I bade him haste with his narration.</p> - -<p>He said, with thick, excited tongue, that a man had come along the road -urging his horse into a gallop. When they reached the field the horse -broke down and would go no farther. The rider, after belaboring him in -vain, leaped down, and, leaving the horse to care for himself, turned -from the road.</p> - -<p>This news excited Whitestone, Adams, and me. It was confirmation of our -suspicions, and proof also that we were pressing Chudleigh hard.</p> - -<p>“How long ago was that?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Not five minutes,” replied the plowman.</p> - -<p>“Which way did he go?” I asked, my excitement increasing.</p> - -<p>“He took the side road yonder,” replied the plowman. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What road?” exclaimed Whitestone, breaking in.</p> - -<p>“The road that leads off to the right—yonder, at the end of the field.”</p> - -<p>I was about to set off in a gallop, but it occurred to me as a happy -thought that this fellow, knowing the country so well, would be useful -as a guide. I ordered him to get on the loose horse, now somewhat -rested, and lead the way. He demurred. But it was no time to be -squeamish or overpolite, so I drew my pistol and warned him. Thereupon -he showed himself a man of judgment and mounted, and taking the lead -of us, obedient to my command, also showed himself to be a very fair -horseman.</p> - -<p>In a few seconds we entered the diverging road, which was narrow, -scarce more than a path. It led between two fields, and then through -some thin woods.</p> - -<p>“You are military folks,” said our guide, turning a look upon me. “Is -the man you are after a deserter?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said I, “a spy.”</p> - -<p>“If you overtake him and he fights, I don’t have any part in it,” he -said. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You needn’t risk your skin,” I said. “It is enough for you to guide -us.”</p> - -<p>I laughed a bit at his cowardice; but after all I had no right to -laugh. It was no business of his to do our fighting for us.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps he has turned into these woods,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“No, he has gone on,” said our guide, “I can see his footsteps in the -dust.”</p> - -<p>Traces like those of human footsteps were in truth visible in the dust, -but we had no time to stop for examination. We rode on, watching the -country on either side of the road. The heat and animation of the chase -seemed to affect our guide, heavy plowman though he was.</p> - -<p>“There go his tracks still!” he cried. “See, by the edge of the road, -by the grass there?”</p> - -<p>“We’ll catch him in five minutes!” cried Adams, full of enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>Our guide was ten feet in front of me, leaning over and looking about -with much eagerness. A curve in the road two or three hundred yards -ahead became visible. Suddenly I noticed an increase of excitement in -the expression of our guide.</p> - -<p>“I see him! I see him!” he cried. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Where? Where?” I shouted.</p> - -<p>“Yonder! yonder! Don’t you see, just turning the curve in the road? -There! He has seen us too, and is drawing a pistol. Gentlemen, remember -your agreement: I’m not to do any of the fighting. I will fall back.”</p> - -<p>“All right!” I cried. “You’ve done your share of the business. Drop -back.—Forward, Whitestone! We’ve got our man now!”</p> - -<p>In a high state of excitement we whipped our horses forward, paying -no further attention to the plowman, for whom in truth we had use no -longer. Our horses seemed to share our zeal, and recalled their waning -strength and spirits. Forward we went at a fine pace, all three of us -straining our eyes to catch the first glimpse of the fugitive when we -should turn the curve around the hill.</p> - -<p>“Two to one I beat you, Whitestone!” I said.</p> - -<p>“Then you’ll have to push your horse more,” said the sergeant, whose -mount was neck and neck with mine.</p> - -<p>In truth it looked as if he would pass me, but I managed to draw a -supreme effort from my horse and we went ahead a little. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>However, I -retained the advantage but a few moments. Whitestone crept up again, -and we continued to race neck and neck. Adams, upon whom we had not -counted as a formidable antagonist, overhauled us, though he could not -pass us.</p> - -<p>Thus we three, side by side, swept around the curve, and the command to -the fugitive to halt and surrender was ready upon our lips.</p> - -<p>The turn of the curve brought us into a wide and bare plain, and we -pulled up astonished. Nowhere was a human being visible, and upon that -naked expanse concealment was impossible.</p> - -<p>We stared at each other in amazement, and then in shame. The truth of -the trick struck me like a rifle shot. Why did I wait until he was gone -to remember something familiar in the voice of that plowman, something -known in the expression of that face? I think the truth came to me -first, but before I said anything Whitestone ejaculated:</p> - -<p>“Chudleigh!”</p> - -<p>“Without doubt,” I replied.</p> - -<p>“I told you the third time would not fail,” he said. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I wish it had failed,” I exclaimed in wrath and fury, “for he has made -fools of us!”</p> - -<p>We wheeled our horses about as if they turned on pivots and raced back -after the wily plowman. I swore to myself a mighty oath that I would -cease to be certain about the identity of anybody, even of Whitestone -himself. Whitestone swore out loud about a variety of things, and Adams -was equal to his opportunities.</p> - -<p>We were speedily back in the main road. I doubted not that Chudleigh -had hurried on toward the south. In truth he could not afford to do -otherwise, and he would profit as fast as he could by the breathing -space obtained through the trick he had played upon us. I wondered at -the man’s courage and presence of mind, and it was a marvel that we had -not gone much farther on the wrong road before detecting the stratagem.</p> - -<p>The road lay across a level country and we saw nothing of Chudleigh. -Nevertheless we did not spare our weary horses. We were sure he was -not very far ahead, and it was no time for mercy to horseflesh. Yet I -thought of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> poor brutes. I said to Whitestone I trusted they would -last.</p> - -<p>“As long as his, perhaps,” replied Whitestone.</p> - -<p>But the truth soon became evident that he was wrong in part. We heard -a great groan, louder than a man can make, and Adams’s horse went down -in a cloud of dust. I pulled up just enough to see that Adams was not -hurt, and to shout to him:</p> - -<p>“Follow us as best you can!”</p> - -<p>Then on we went. Far ahead of us in the road we saw a black speck. -Whether man, beast, or a stump, I could not say, but we hoped it was -Chudleigh.</p> - -<p>“See, it moves!” cried Whitestone.</p> - -<p>Then it was not a stump, and the chance that it was Chudleigh -increased. Soon it became apparent that the black object was not only -moving, but moving almost as fast as we. By and by we could make out -the figure of a man lashing a tired horse. That it was Chudleigh no -longer admitted of doubt.</p> - -<p>“We’ll catch him yet! His trick shall not avail him!” I cried -exultingly to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>The wise sergeant kept silent and saved his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> breath. I looked back once -and saw a man running after us, though far away. I knew it was Adams -following us on foot, faithful to his duty.</p> - -<p>I felt a great shudder running through the horse beneath me, and then -the faithful animal began to reel like a man in liquor. I could have -groaned in disappointment, for I knew these signs betokened exhaustion, -and a promise that the pursuit would be left to Whitestone alone. But -even as my mind formed the thought, Whitestone’s horse fell as Adams’s -had fallen. My own, seeing his last comrade go down, stopped stock -still, and refused to stir another inch under the sharpest goad.</p> - -<p>“What shall we do?” I cried to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“Follow on foot!” he replied. “His horse must be almost as far gone as -ours!”</p> - -<p>We paused only to snatch our pistols from the holsters, and then on -foot we pierced the trail of dust Chudleigh’s horse had left behind -him. The fine dust crept into eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. I coughed -and spluttered, and just as I was rubbing sight back into my eyes I -heard a joyful cry from Whitestone. I was able<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> to see then through the -dust, and I beheld Chudleigh abandoning his horse and taking to the -woods on foot.</p> - -<p>“It’s a foot race now, and not a horse race!” I said to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and we must still win!” he replied.</p> - -<p>Poor Adams was lost to sight behind us.</p> - -<p>About two hundred yards from the road the woods began. I feared that -if Chudleigh reached these he might elude us, and I pushed myself as I -had pushed my horse. Being long-legged and country bred, I am a fair -runner; in fact, it is a muscular talent upon which I used to pride -myself. The sergeant puffed much at my elbow, but managed to keep his -place.</p> - -<p>I now perceived with much joy that we could outrun Chudleigh. When he -dashed into the woods we had made a very smart gain upon him, and in -truth were too near for him to elude us by doubling or turning in the -undergrowth. Despite the obstacle of the trees and the bushes we were -yet able to keep him in view, and, better acquainted with this sort -of work than he, we gained upon him even more rapidly than before. We -flattered ourselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> that we would soon have him. Though it was a heavy -draught upon my breath, I shouted with all my might to Chudleigh to -stop and yield. For answer he whirled around and fired a pistol at us. -The sergeant grunted, and stopped.</p> - -<p>“Go on and take him yourself!” he said hastily to me. “His bullet’s in -my leg! No bones broke, but I can’t run any more! Adams will take care -of me!”</p> - -<p>Obedient to his command and my own impulse I continued the chase. -Perhaps if I had been cooler in mind I might not have done so, for -Chudleigh had proved himself a man; he probably had another pistol, and -another bullet in that other pistol; in case that other bullet and I -met, I knew which would have to yield, but I consoled myself with the -reflection that I too had a pistol and some acquaintance with its use.</p> - -<p>Chudleigh did not look back again, and perhaps did not know that he -was now pursued by only one man. He continued his flight as zealously -as ever. As I may have observed before, and with truth too, it incites -one’s courage wonderfully to have a man run from him, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>seeing -Chudleigh’s back I began to feel quite competent to take him alone. We -wound about among the trees at a great rate. I was gaining, though I -was forced to pump my breath up from great depths. But I was consoled -by the reflection that, however tired I might be, surely he fared no -better. I shouted to him again and again, to stop, but he ran as if he -were born deaf.</p> - -<p>Presently I noticed that he was curving back toward the road, and I -wondered at his purpose. A moment later he burst from the trees into -the open ground. I was within fair pistol shot, and, with trees and -bushes no longer obstructing, he was a good target. I doubted not that -I could hit him, and since he would not stop for my voice, I must see -if a bullet would make him more obedient.</p> - -<p>I raised my pistol and took the good aim which one can do running -if he has had the practice. But my heart revolted at the shot. If I -could risk so much for Kate Van Auken’s brother, surely I could risk -something for Kate Van Auken’s lover. I do not take praise to myself -for not shooting Chudleigh, as I was thinking that if I did fire the -shot I would have but a poor tale to tell to Mistress Catherine. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - -<p>I let down the hammer of the pistol and stuffed the weapon into my -pocket. Chudleigh was now running straight toward the road. My wonder -what his purpose might be increased.</p> - -<p>Of a sudden he drew a second pistol and fired it at me, but his bullet -sped wide of the mark. He threw the pistol on the ground and tried to -run faster.</p> - -<p>I thought that when he reached the road he would follow it to the -south, hoping to shake me off; but, very much to my surprise, he -crossed it, and kept a straight course toward the river. Then I divined -that he being a good swimmer, hoped I was not, and that thus he might -escape me. But I can swim as well as run, and I prepared my mind for -the event. When he reached the river he threw off his coat with a quick -movement and sprang boldly into the stream. But I was ready. I threw my -own coat aside—the only one I had—and leaped into the water after him.</p> - -<p>If I was a good swimmer, so was Chudleigh. When I rose from my first -splash he was already far from me, floating partly with the stream, and -following a diagonal course toward the farther shore. I swam after him -with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>vigorous strokes. Curiously enough, the severe exertion to which -I had been subjecting myself on land did not seem to affect me in the -water. I suppose a new set of muscles came into play, for I felt fresh -and strong. Moreover, I resolved that I would cling to Chudleigh to the -very last; that I would not let him by any chance escape me. I felt -again that the entire fate of the great campaign depended upon me, and -me alone. With such a feeling, one’s sense of importance grows much, -and I think it made my arm stronger also, which was what I needed more -particularly just then.</p> - -<p>Chudleigh dived once and remained under water a long time, with the -probable intent of deceiving me in regard to his course. But the trick -worked against him rather than for him; when he came up he was nearer -to me than before. I thought also that his strokes were growing weaker, -and I was confirmed in such belief by the amount of water he splashed -about, as if his efforts were desperate rather than judicious.</p> - -<p>I swam, my strokes long and steady, and gained upon him with much -rapidity. We were approaching the shore, when he, looking back,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -perceived that I must overtake him before he could reach land.</p> - -<p>With an abruptness for which I was unprepared, he swam about and faced -me as much as to say: “Come on; if you take me, you must fight me -first.”</p> - -<p>Chudleigh, with only his head above water, was not especially beautiful -to look at. The dirt with which he had disguised himself when he played -false guide to us was washed off partly, and remained partly in streaks -of mud, which made him look as if a hot gridiron had been slapped of a -sudden upon his face. Moreover, Chudleigh was angry, very angry; his -eyes snapped as if he were wondering why I could not let him alone.</p> - -<p>I may have looked as ugly as Chudleigh, but I could not see for myself. -I swam a little closer to him, looking him straight in the eye, in -order that I might see what he intended to do the moment he thought it.</p> - -<p>“Why do you follow me?” he asked, with much anger in his tone.</p> - -<p>“Why do you run from me?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“What I do is no business of yours,” he said. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, it is,” I replied. “You’re Captain Chudleigh of the British -army, an escaped prisoner, and I’ve come to recapture you.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how you’re going to do it,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I do,” I replied, though, to tell the truth, I had not yet thought of -a way to manage the matter, which seemed to present difficulties. In -the meantime I confined myself to treading water. Chudleigh did the -same.</p> - -<p>“That was a dirty trick you played on us back there,” I said, “palming -yourself off on us as a guide.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t do it,” he replied in an injured tone. “You’re to blame -yourself. You forced me at the pistol’s muzzle.”</p> - -<p>He told the truth, I was forced to confess.</p> - -<p>“We’ll let that pass,” I said. “Now, will you surrender?”</p> - -<p>“Never!” he replied, in manner most determined.</p> - -<p>“Then you will force me to a violent recapture,” I said.</p> - -<p>“I fail to see how you are going to do it,” he said with much grimness. -“If you seize me here in the water, I will seize you, and then we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> will -drown together, which will be very unpleasant for both of us.”</p> - -<p>There was much truth in what he said. A blind man or a fool could see -it.</p> - -<p>“Let us swim to land and fight it out with our fists,” I proposed, -remembering how I had overcome Albert, and confident that I could -dispose of Chudleigh in similar fashion.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” he said decidedly, “I am very comfortable where I am.”</p> - -<p>“Then you like water better than most British officers,” I said.</p> - -<p>“It has its uses,” he replied contentedly.</p> - -<p>There was nothing more to do just then but to tread water and think.</p> - -<p>“Come, come, captain,” I said after a while, “be reasonable. I’ve -overtaken you. You can’t get away. Surrender like a gentleman, and -let’s go ashore and dry ourselves. This water’s getting cold.”</p> - -<p>“I see no reason why I should surrender,” he replied. “Besides, the -water is no colder for you than it is for me.”</p> - -<p>There was no answer to this logic. Moreover, what he said sounded like -a challenge. So I set myself to thinking with more <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>concentration than -ever. There was another and longer interval of silence. I hoped that -Whitestone or Adams would appear, but neither did so. After all, I had -little right to expect either. We had left them far behind, and also we -had changed our course. There was nothing to guide them.</p> - -<p>I addressed myself once more to Chudleigh’s reason.</p> - -<p>“Your errand is at an end,” I said. “Whether I take you now or not, you -can not shake me off. You will never get through to Clinton. Besides, -you are losing all your precious time here in the river.”</p> - -<p>But he preserved an obstinacy most strange and vexatious. He did -not even reply to me, but kept on treading water. I perceived that -I must use with him some other means than logic, however sound and -unanswerable the latter might be.</p> - -<p>Sometimes it happens to me, as doubtless it does to other people, that -after being long in a puzzle, the answer comes to me so suddenly and so -easily that I wonder why I did not see it first glance.</p> - -<p>Without any preliminaries that would seem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> to warn Chudleigh, I dived -out of sight. When I came up I was in such shallow water that I could -wade. Near me was a huge bowlder protruding a good two feet above -the water. I walked to it, climbed upon it, and taking a comfortable -position above the water, looked at Chudleigh, who seemed to be much -surprised and aggrieved at my sudden countermarch.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” I replied, “except that I am tired of treading water. Come -and join me; it’s very pleasant up here.”</p> - -<p>He declined my invitation, which I had worded most courteously. I -remained silent for a while; then I said:</p> - -<p>“Better come. You can’t tread water forever. If you stay there much -longer you’ll catch the cramp and drown.”</p> - -<p>I lolled on the bowlder and awaited the end with calmness and -satisfaction. My signal advantage was apparent.</p> - -<p>“I’ll swim to the other shore,” said he presently.</p> - -<p>“You can’t,” I replied. “It’s too far; you haven’t strength enough left -for it.”</p> - -<p>I could see that he was growing tired. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> looked around him at either -shore and up and down the river, but we were the only human beings -within the circle of that horizon.</p> - -<p>“What terms of surrender do you propose?” he said at last, with a -certain despair in his tone.</p> - -<p>“Unconditional.”</p> - -<p>“That is too hard.”</p> - -<p>“My advantage warrants the demand.”</p> - -<p>He was silent again for a few moments, and was rapidly growing weaker. -I thought I would hasten matters.</p> - -<p>“I will not treat you badly,” I said. “All I want to do is to take you -back to our army.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I suppose I must accept,” he said, “for I am growing devilish -cold and tired.”</p> - -<p>“Pledge your honor,” I said, “that you will make no attempt to escape, -with the understanding that the pledge does not forbid rescue.”</p> - -<p>“I give you my word,” he said.</p> - -<p>Whereupon he swam to shore, to the great relief of us both.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE RETURN WITH CHUDLEIGH.</span></h2> - -<p>We climbed up the bank, and sat for some time drying in the sun. We -were wet, and, moreover, had drunk large quantities of the Hudson -River. As a regular thing, I prefer dry land as a place of inhabitation.</p> - -<p>While the sun dried our bodies and clothing I was thinking. Though I -had taken my man, and that, too, single-handed, my position was not the -best in the world. I was now on the wrong side of the river, and I had -lost my weapons and my comrades. Also I was hungry.</p> - -<p>“Chudleigh,” I asked, “are you hungry?”</p> - -<p>“Rather,” he replied with emphasis.</p> - -<p>“How are we to get something to eat?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“That’s your affair, not mine,” he replied. “I have nothing to do but -to remain captured.”</p> - -<p>I thought I saw in him an inclination to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> disagreeable, which, to -say the truth, was scarce the part of a gentleman after the handsome -fashion in which I had treated him. In the face of such ingratitude, I -resolved to use the privileges of my superior position.</p> - -<p>“Are you about dry?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Then get up and march.”</p> - -<p>He seemed to resent my stern tone, but inasmuch as he had provoked it -he had no cause for complaint. If he intended to assert all the rights -of a prisoner, then I equally would assert all the rights of a captor.</p> - -<p>“Which way?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Northward, along the river bank. Keep in front of me,” I said.</p> - -<p>Obedient to my orders he stalked off at a pretty gait, and I followed. -We marched thus for half a mile. Chudleigh glanced back at me once or -twice. I seemed not to notice it, though I could guess what was passing -in his mind.</p> - -<p>“If I hadn’t given my word,” he said, “I think I’d fight it out with -you, fist and skull.”</p> - -<p>“I offered you the chance,” I said, “when we were in the river, but -you would not accept it. You’ve heard many wise sayings about lost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> -opportunities, and this proves the truth of them.”</p> - -<p>“That’s so,” he said with a sigh of deep regret.</p> - -<p>“Besides,” I added, in the way of consolation for his lost opportunity, -“you would gain nothing by it but bruises. I am larger and stronger -than you.”</p> - -<p>He measured me with his eye and concluded that I spoke truth, for he -heaved another sigh, but of comfort.</p> - -<p>“Now, Chudleigh,” I said, “a man can be a fool sometimes and lose -nothing, but he can’t be a fool all the time and gather the profits of -the earth. Drop back here with me and let us talk and act sensibly.”</p> - -<p>He wrinkled his brow a moment or two, as if in thought, and accepted my -invitation. Whereupon we became very good companions.</p> - -<p>In reality I felt as much trouble about Chudleigh as myself. It was -like the trouble I had felt on Albert’s account. He had penetrated our -lines in citizen’s clothes, and if I took him back to our camp in the -same attire he might be regarded as a spy, with all the unpleasant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> -consequences such a thing entails. Having spared Chudleigh’s life once -from scruples, I had no mind to lead him to the gallows. I must get a -British uniform for him, though how was more than I could tell. The -problem troubled me much.</p> - -<p>But the advance of hunger soon drove thoughts of Chudleigh’s safety -out of my mind, and, stubborn Englishman though he was, he was fain to -confess that he too felt the desire for food. Along that side of the -river the settlements were but scant, and nowhere did we see a house.</p> - -<p>That we would encounter Whitestone and Adams was beyond all -probability, for they would never surmise that we had crossed the -river. Chudleigh and I looked ruefully and hungrily at each other.</p> - -<p>“Chudleigh,” I said, “you are more trouble a captive than a fugitive.”</p> - -<p>“The responsibility is yours,” he said. “I decline to carry the burdens -of my captor. Find me something to eat.”</p> - -<p>We trudged along for more than an hour, somewhat gloomy and the pains -of hunger increasing. I was about to call a halt, that we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> might rest -and that I might think about our difficulties, when I saw a column of -smoke rising above a hill. I called Chudleigh’s attention to it, and he -agreed with me that we ought to push on and see what it was.</p> - -<p>I was convinced that friends must be at the bottom of that column of -smoke. If any British party had come so far north, which in itself was -improbable, it could scarce be so careless as to give to the Americans -plain warning of its presence.</p> - -<p>It was a long walk, but we were cheered by the possibility that our -reward would be dinner. Chudleigh seemed to cherish some lingering hope -that it was a party of British or Tories who would rescue him, but I -told him to save himself such disappointments.</p> - -<p>In a short time we came in view of those who had built the fire, and I -was delighted to find my surmise that they were Americans was correct.</p> - -<p>They numbered some fifty or a hundred, and I guessed they were a -detachment on the way to join the northern army beleaguering Burgoyne.</p> - -<p>“Chudleigh,” I said as we approached the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> first sentinel, “will you -promise to do all that I say?”</p> - -<p>“Of course; I am your prisoner,” he replied.</p> - -<p>I hailed the sentinel, and my uniform procured for me a friendly -reception. Chudleigh I introduced vaguely as a countryman traveling -northward with me. The men were eating, and I told them we were making -close acquaintance with starvation. They invited us to join them, and -we fell to with great promptitude.</p> - -<p>I could tell them something about affairs at the north, and they could -give me the latest news from the south. They told me that Clinton -was still below Albany, hesitating and awaiting with impatience some -message from Burgoyne.</p> - -<p>I rejoiced more than ever that I had stopped Chudleigh, and felt pride -in my exploit. I hope I can be pardoned for it. It was but natural that -Chudleigh’s emotions should be the opposite of mine, and I watched his -face to see how he would take this talk. It was easy enough to see -regret expressed there, though he sought to control himself. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> - -<p>The talk of these recruits was very bitter against the British. The -Indians with Burgoyne had committed many cruel deeds before they -fled back to Canada, and these countrymen were full of the passion -for revenge. I often think that if the British in London knew what -atrocities their red allies have committed in their wars with us they -would understand more easily why so many of us are inflamed against the -Englishman.</p> - -<p>These men were rehearsing the latest murders by the Indians, and they -showed very plainly their desire to arrive at the front before Burgoyne -was taken. Nor did they spare the name of Englishman. I was sorry on -Chudleigh’s account that the talk had taken such drift. He took note of -it from the first, because his red face grew redder, and he squirmed -about in the manner which shows uneasiness.</p> - -<p>“Chudleigh,” I whispered at a moment when the others were not looking, -“keep still. Remember you are my prisoner.”</p> - -<p>But he sat there swelling and puffing like an angry cat.</p> - -<p>While the others were denouncing them, I made some excuses, most -perfunctory, it is true,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> for the British; but this was only an -additional incitement to a bellicose man named Hicks. He damned the -British for every crime known to Satan. Chudleigh was so red in the -face I thought the blood would pop out through his cheeks, and, though -I shoved him warningly with my boot, he blurted out his wrath.</p> - -<p>“The English are as good as anybody, sir, and you accuse them falsely!” -he said.</p> - -<p>“What is it to you?” exclaimed Hicks, turning to him in surprise and -anger.</p> - -<p>“I am an Englishman, sir,” said Chudleigh with ill-judged haughtiness, -“and I will not endure such abuse.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you are an Englishman, are you, and you won’t endure abuse, won’t -you?” said Hicks with irony; and then to me, “We did not understand you -to say he was an Englishman.”</p> - -<p>I saw that we were in a pickle, and I thought it best to tell the whole -truth in a careless way, as if the thing were but a trifle.</p> - -<p>“The man is an English officer, an escaped prisoner, whom I have -retaken,” I said. “I did not deem it worth while to make long -explanations, especially as we must now push on after you have so -kindly fed us.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> - -<p>But Hicks was suspicious; so were the others, and their suspicions -were fed by the mutterings and growls of Chudleigh, who showed a lack -of tact remarkable even in an Englishman out of his own country. Then, -to appease them, I went into some of the long explanations which I had -said I wanted to avoid.</p> - -<p>“That’s all very well,” broke in Hicks, “but if this man is an English -officer, why is he not in the English uniform? I believe he is an -Englishman, as you say; he talks like it, but tell me why he is dressed -like a civilian.”</p> - -<p>The others followed Hicks’s lead and began to cry:</p> - -<p>“Spy! Spy! Spy!”</p> - -<p>In truth I felt alarm.</p> - -<p>“This is no spy,” I said. “He is Captain Chudleigh, of the English -army.”</p> - -<p>“He may be Captain Chudleigh and a spy too,” said Hicks coolly. “I am -not sure about the Chudleigh part, but I am about the spy part.”</p> - -<p>“Hang him for good count!” cried some of the others, who seemed to be -raw recruits. The talk about the Indian atrocities was fresh in their -minds, and they were in a highly <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>inflammatory state. I recognized a -real and present danger.</p> - -<p>“Men,” I cried, “you are going too far! This prisoner is mine, and it -is of importance that I take him back to the army.”</p> - -<p>But my protest only seemed to excite them further. In truth they -took it as a threat. Some of them began to demand that I too should -be hung, that I was a Tory in disguise. But the body of them did not -take up this cry. The bulk of their wrath fell upon Chudleigh, who -was undeniably an Englishman. Two or three of the foremost made ready -to seize him. I was in no mind to have all my plans spoiled, and I -snatched a musket from a stack and threatened to shoot the first man -who put a hand on Chudleigh.</p> - -<p>Chudleigh himself behaved very well, and sat, quite calm. The men -hesitated at sight of the rifle, and this gave me a chance to appeal -to their reason, which was more accessible now since they seemed to -be impressed by my earnestness. I insisted that all I had said was -the truth, and they would be doing much injury to our cause if they -interfered with us. I fancy that I pleaded our case with eloquence, -though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> I ought not to boast. At any rate they were mollified, and -concluded to abandon their project of hanging Chudleigh.</p> - -<p>“I’ve no doubt he deserves hanging,” said Hicks, “but I guess we’ll -leave the job for somebody else.”</p> - -<p>Chudleigh was about to resent this, but I told him to shut up so -abruptly that he forgot himself and obeyed.</p> - -<p>I was anxious enough to be clear of these men, countrymen though they -were; so we bade them adieu and tramped on, much strengthened by the -rest and food.</p> - -<p>“Captain,” said I to Chudleigh, though trying to preserve a polite -tone, “you do not seem to appreciate the beauty and virtue of silence.”</p> - -<p>“I will not have my country or my countrymen insulted,” replied he in -most belligerent tones.</p> - -<p>“Well, at any rate,” I said, “I had to save your life at the risk of my -own.”</p> - -<p>“It was nothing more than your duty,” he replied. “I am your prisoner, -and you are responsible for my safety.”</p> - -<p>Which I call rank ingratitude on Chudleigh’s part, though technically -true. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was late in the day when we met the detachment, and dark now being -near at hand, it was apparent that we would have to sleep in the woods, -which, however, was no hardship for soldiers, since the nights were -warm and the ground dry. When the night arrived I proposed to Chudleigh -that we stop and make our beds on the turf, which was rather thick and -soft at that spot. He assented in the manner of one who had made up his -mind to obey me in every particular.</p> - -<p>But before lying down I had the forethought to ask from Chudleigh a -guarantee that he would not walk away in the night while I was asleep. -I reminded him of his pledge that he would not attempt to escape, -barring a rescue.</p> - -<p>But he took exceptions with great promptness, claiming with much -plausibility, I was fain to admit, that his pledge did not apply in -such a case. He argued that if I lay down and went to sleep he was no -longer guarded; consequently he was not a prisoner; consequently he -would go away. Since he chose to stick to his position, I had no way to -drive him from it, whether reasonable or unreasonable. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Then I will bind you hand and foot,” I said.</p> - -<p>He reminded me with an air of triumph that I had nothing with which to -bind him, which unfortunately was true.</p> - -<p>“What am I to do?” I said as much to myself as to him.</p> - -<p>“Nothing that I can see,” he replied, “but to guard me while I sleep.”</p> - -<p>Without another word he lay down upon the turf, and in less than two -minutes his snore permeated the woods.</p> - -<p>Reflecting in most unhappy fashion that if it were not for the great -interests of our campaign I would much rather be his prisoner than have -him mine, I sat there making fierce efforts to keep my eyelids apart.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVII.</span> <span class="smaller">MY THANKS.</span></h2> - -<p>About midnight I reached the limit of endurance. I was firm in my -resolution that I would not sleep, and while still firm in it I slept. -When I awoke it was a fine day. For a moment I was in a cold terror, -feeling sure Chudleigh had slipped away while I slept the sleep that -had overpowered me. But a calm, evenly attuned snore that glided -peacefully through the arches of the woods reassured me.</p> - -<p>Chudleigh was lying on his back, sleeping. He was as heavy as a log, -and I knew that he had not known a single waking moment since he lay -down the night before. I dragged him about with rudeness and he opened -his eyes regretfully. Presently he announced that he felt very fresh -and strong, and asked me where I expected to get breakfast. He said he -was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> sorry for me, as he knew I must be very tired and sleepy after -sitting up on guard all night.</p> - -<p>I gave him no answer, but commanded him to resume the march with me. We -walked on with diligence through a breakfastless country. Chudleigh, -though suffering from hunger, was frequent in his expressions of -sympathy for me. He said he had the utmost pity for any man who was -compelled to sit up an entire night and watch prisoners; but I replied -that I throve upon it, and then Chudleigh showed chagrin.</p> - -<p>We had the good fortune, about two hours before noon, to find the house -of a farmer, who sold us some food, and cared not whether we were -American or British, Tory or nothing, so long as we were good pay.</p> - -<p>A half hour after leaving this place I decided that we ought to recross -the river. Chudleigh offered no objection, knowing that he had no right -to do so, being a prisoner. I had no mind to take another swim, so I -made search along the bank for something that would serve as a raft, -and was not long in finding it.</p> - -<p>Having proved to Chudleigh that it was as much to his benefit as to -mine to help me, we rolled a small tree that had fallen near the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> -water’s edge into the river, and, sitting astride it, began our ride -toward the farther shore. I had a pole with which I could direct the -course of our raft, and with these aids it seemed rather an easy matter -to cross. I allowed the tree to drift partly with the current, but all -the time gently urged it toward the farther shore.</p> - -<p>We floated along quite peacefully. So far as we could see we were alone -upon the broad surface of the river, and the shores too were deserted. -I remarked upon the loneliness of it all to Chudleigh, and he seemed -impressed.</p> - -<p>“Chudleigh,” I said, “we’re having an easier time recrossing the river -than we had crossing it.”</p> - -<p>“So it would seem,” he replied, “but we won’t unless you look out for -the current and those rocks there.”</p> - -<p>I had twisted my face about while speaking to Chudleigh, and in -consequence neglected the outlook ahead. We had reached a shallow place -in the river where some sharp rocks stuck up, and the water eddied -about them in manner most spirited. The front end of our log was caught -in one of these eddies and whirled about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> with violence. I was thrown -off, and though I grasped at the log it slipped away from me. I whirled -about to recover myself, but the fierce current picked me up and dashed -me against one of the projecting rocks. With a backward twist I was -able to save myself a little, but my head struck the cruel stone with -grievous force.</p> - -<p>I saw many stars appear suddenly in the full day. Chudleigh and the log -vanished, and I was drifting away through the atmosphere. I was not -wholly unconscious, and through the instinct of an old swimmer made -some motions which kept me afloat a little while with the current.</p> - -<p>I had too little mind left to command my nerves and muscles, but enough -to know that I was very near death. In a dazed and bewildered sort of -way I expected the end, and was loath to meet it.</p> - -<p>The blue sky was rapidly fading into nothing, when some voice from a -point a thousand miles away called to me to hold up a little longer. -The voice was so sharp and imperious that it acted like a tonic upon -me, and brain resumed a little control over body. I tried to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> swim, -but I was too weak to do more than paddle a little. The voice shouted -again, and encouraged me to persevere.</p> - -<p>In truth I tried to persevere, but things were whizzing about so much -in my head and I was so weak that I could do but little. I thought I -was bound to go down, with the whole river pouring into my ears.</p> - -<p>“That’s a good fellow!” shouted the voice. “Hold up just a minute -longer, and I’ll have you safe!”</p> - -<p>I saw dimly a huge figure bearing down upon me. It reached out and -grasped me by the collar.</p> - -<p>“Steady, now!” continued the voice. “Here comes our tree, and we’ll be -safe in twenty seconds!”</p> - -<p>The tree, looking like a mountain, floated down toward us. My rescuer -reached out, seized it, and then dragged us both upon it. Reposing in -safety, mind and strength returned, and things resumed their natural -size and shape. Chudleigh, the Hudson River running in little cascades -from his hair down his face, was sitting firmly astride the log and -looking at me with an air of satisfaction. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Chudleigh,” I said, “I believe you have saved my life.”</p> - -<p>“Shelby,” he replied, “I know it.”</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you escape?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“You compel me to remind you that I am a gentleman, Mr. Shelby,” he -said.</p> - -<p>That was all that ever passed between us on the subject, though I -reflected that I was not in his debt, for if he had saved my life I had -saved his.</p> - -<p>We had no further difficulty in reaching the desired shore, where the -sun soon dried us. We continued our journey in very amicable fashion, -Chudleigh no doubt feeling relief because he was now in a measure on -even terms with me. I, too, was in a state of satisfaction. Unless -Burgoyne had retreated very fast, we could not now be far from the -lines of the American army, and I thought that my troubles with my -prisoner were almost at an end. I hoped that Burgoyne had not been -taken in my absence, for I wished to be present at the taking. I also -had in my mind another plan with which Chudleigh was concerned. It was -a plan of great self-sacrifice, and I felt the virtuous glow which -arises from such resolutions. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> - -<p>We paused again, by and by, for rest, the sun having become warm and -the way dusty. Chudleigh sat down on a stone and wiped his damp face, -while I went to a brook, which I had seen glimmering among the trees, -for a drink of fresh water. I had just knelt down to drink when I heard -a clattering of hoofs. Rising hastily, I saw two men riding toward -Chudleigh. Though the faces of these two men were much smeared with -dust, I recognized them readily and joyfully. They were Whitestone and -Adams.</p> - -<p>My two comrades evidently had seen and recognized Chudleigh. They -raised a shout and galloped toward him as if they feared he would flee. -I came down to the edge of the wood and stopped thereto see at my -leisure what might happen.</p> - -<p>Chudleigh sat upon the stone unmoved. As a matter of course he both saw -and heard Whitestone and Adams, but he was a phlegmatic sort of fellow -and took no notice. Whitestone reached him first. Leaping from his -horse, the gallant sergeant exclaimed:</p> - -<p>“Do you surrender, Captain?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” said Chudleigh. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It’s been a long chase, captain, but we’ve got you at last,” continued -the sergeant.</p> - -<p>“So it seems,” said Chudleigh, with the same phlegm.</p> - -<p>Then I came from the wood and cut the sergeant’s comb for him; but he -was so glad to see me again that he was quite willing to lose the glory -of the recapture. He explained that he had been overtaken by Adams. -Together they had wandered around in search of Chudleigh and me. Giving -up the hunt as useless, they had obtained new horses and were on the -way back to the army.</p> - -<p>We were now four men and two horses, and the men taking turns on -horseback, we increased our speed greatly.</p> - -<p>Whitestone and Adams were in fine feather, but there was one question -that yet bothered me. I wanted to take Chudleigh back in his own proper -British uniform, and thus save him from unpleasant possibilities. I did -not see how it could be done, but luck helped me.</p> - -<p>We met very soon a small party of Americans escorting some British -prisoners. Telling my companions to wait for me, I approached the -sergeant who was in charge of the troop.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> Making my manner as important -as I could, and speaking in a low tone, as if fearful that I would be -overheard—which I observe always impresses people—I told him that -one of our number was about to undertake a most delicate and dangerous -mission. It chanced that I had some slight acquaintance with this -sergeant, and therefore he had no reason to doubt my words, even if I -am forced to say it myself.</p> - -<p>He pricked up his ears at once, all curiosity, and wanted to know the -nature of the business. I pointed to Chudleigh, who was standing some -distance away with Whitestone and Adams, and said he was going to -enter the British lines as a spy in order to procure most important -information.</p> - -<p>“A dangerous business, you say truly. He must be a daring fellow,” said -my man, nodding his head in the direction of Chudleigh.</p> - -<p>“So he is,” I said, “ready at any moment to risk his life for the -cause, but we need one thing.”</p> - -<p>He asked what it was.</p> - -<p>“A disguise,” I said. “If he is to play the British soldier, of course -he must have a British soldier’s clothes.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> - -<p>I made no request, but I looked suggestively at the British prisoners. -The sergeant, who was all for obliging me, took the hint at once. He -picked out the very best uniform in the lot, and made the man who wore -it exchange it for Chudleigh’s old clothes. Chudleigh, who had been -learning wisdom in the last day or two, was considerate enough to keep -his mouth shut, and we parted from the sergeant and his troop with many -mutual expressions of good will. The uniform did not fit Chudleigh, nor -was it that of an officer, but these were minor details to which no -attention would be paid in the press of a great campaign.</p> - -<p>The matter of the uniform disposed of, we pressed forward with renewed -spirit, and soon reached the first sentinels of our army, which we -found surrounding that of Burgoyne. It was with great satisfaction that -I delivered Chudleigh to my colonel.</p> - -<p>The colonel was delighted at the recapture, and praised me with such -freedom that I began, to have a budding suspicion that I ought to be -commander in chief of the army. However, I made no mention of the -suspicion. Instead, I suggested to the colonel that as Chudleigh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> had -escaped once, he might escape again, and it would be well to exchange -him for some officer of ours whom the British held.</p> - -<p>The colonel took to the idea, and said he would speak to the general -about it. In the morning he told me it would be done, and I immediately -asked him for the favor of taking Chudleigh into the British camp, -saying that as I had been his jailer so much already, I would like to -continue in that capacity until the end.</p> - -<p>The colonel was in great good humor with me, and he granted the request -forthwith. As I left to carry out the business, he said, “The exchange -is well enough, but we’ll probably have your man back in a few days.”</p> - -<p>In truth it did look rather odd that the British should be exchanging -prisoners with us upon what we regarded as the unavoidable eve of -their surrender, but they chose to persevere in the idea that we were -yet equal enemies. Nevertheless, the coils of our army were steadily -tightening around them. All the fords were held by our troops. Our best -sharpshooters swept the British camp, and it is no abuse of metaphor to -say that Burgoyne’s army was rimmed around by a circle of fire. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> - -<p>I found Chudleigh reposing under a tree, and told him to get up and -start with me at once.</p> - -<p>“What new expedition is this?” he asked discontentedly. “Can not I be -permitted to rest a little? I will not try to escape again?”</p> - -<p>I told him he was about to be exchanged, and I had secured the -privilege of escorting him back to his own people.</p> - -<p>“That’s very polite of you,” he said.</p> - -<p>I really believe he thought so.</p> - -<p>For the second time I entered Burgoyne’s camp under a white flag, and -saw all the signs of distress I had seen before, only in a sharper and -deeper form. The wounded and sick were more numerous and the well and -strong were fewer. It was a sorely stricken army.</p> - -<p>But I did not waste much time in such observations, which of necessity -would have been but limited anyhow, as the British had no intent to let -any American wander at will about their camp and take note of their -situation. When we were halted at the outskirts, I asked the officer -who received us for Albert Van Auken, who, I said, was a friend of mine -and of whose safety I wished to be assured. He was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> very courteous, and -in a few minutes Albert came.</p> - -<p>Albert was glad to see me, and I to see him, and as soon as we had -shaken hands I approached the matter I had in mind.</p> - -<p>“Madame Van Auken, your mother, and your sister, are they well, -Albert?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Very well, the circumstances considered,” replied Albert, “though I -must say their quarters are rather restricted. You can see the house up -there; they have been living for the last three or four days and nights -in its cellar, crowded up with other women, with a hospital beside -them, and the cannon balls from your army often crashing over their -heads. It’s rather a lively life for women.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t I see your sister, Mistress Catherine?” I asked. “I have -something to say to her about Chudleigh.”</p> - -<p>“Why, certainly,” he replied. “Kate will always be glad to see an old -playmate like you, Dick.”</p> - -<p>He was so obliging as to go at once and fetch her. She looked a little -thin and touched by care, but the added gravity became her. She greeted -me with gratifying warmth. We had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> stepped a little to one side, and -after the greetings, I said, indicating Chudleigh:</p> - -<p>“I have brought him back as sound and whole as he was the day he -started on this campaign.”</p> - -<p>“That must be very pleasant to Captain Chudleigh,” she said with a -faint smile.</p> - -<p>“I saved him from a possible death too,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Captain Chudleigh’s debt of gratitude to you is large,” she replied.</p> - -<p>“I have taken great trouble with him,” I said, “but I was willing to -do it all on your account. I have brought him back, and I make him a -present to you.”</p> - -<p>She looked me squarely in the eyes for a moment, and said, as she -turned away:</p> - -<p>“Dick, you are a fool!”</p> - -<p>Which I call abrupt, impolite, ungrateful, and, I hope, untrue.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVIII.</span> <span class="smaller">THE BATTLE OF THE GUNS.</span></h2> - -<p>I returned to our camp downcast over the failure of good intentions, -and convinced that there was no reward in this life for self-sacrifice. -Perhaps if I were to fall in the fighting and Kate Van Auken were to -see my dead body, she would be sorry she had called me a fool. There -was comfort in this reflection. The idea that I was a martyr cheered -me, and I recovered with a rapidity that was astonishing to myself.</p> - -<p>An hour’s rest was permitted me before my return to active duty, and -I had some opportunity to observe our tactics, which I concluded must -be most galling to the enemy. Some clouds of smoke hung over both -encampments, and the crackling of the rifles of the sharpshooters -and the occasional thud of the cannon had become so much a matter of -course, that we scarce paid attention to them. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> - -<p>When my hour of leisure was over I was assigned to duty with an -advanced party close up to Burgoyne’s camp. It was much to my pleasure -that I found Whitestone there too. It was but natural, however, that we -should be often on duty together, since we belonged to the same company.</p> - -<p>Whitestone, according to his habit, had made himself comfortable on the -ground, and, there being no law against it, was smoking the beloved -pipe, which like its master was a veteran of many campaigns. From his -lounging place he could see a portion of the British camp.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Shelby,” said he, “this is like sitting by and watching a wounded -bear die, and giving him a little prod now and then to hurry the death -along.”</p> - -<p>So it was, and it was no wonder the soldiers grew impatient. But I was -bound to confess that the policy of our generals was right, and by it -they would win as much and save more life.</p> - -<p>There was nothing for me to do, and I kept my eyes most of the time -on the house Albert had pointed out to me. Crouched in its cellar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> I -knew were scared women and weeping children, and doubtless Kate and her -mother were among them. Once a cannon ball struck the house and went -through it, burying itself in the ground on the other side. I held my -breath for a little, but I was reassured by the thought that the women -and children were out of range in the cellar.</p> - -<p>Thus the day passed in idleness as far as I was concerned. I spent it -not unpleasantly in gossip with Whitestone. The nightfall was dark, -and under cover of it the British ran a twenty-four pounder forward -into a good position and opened fire with it upon some of our advanced -parties. My first warning of the attack was a loud report much nearer -to us than usual, followed by a hissing and singing as if something -were stinging the air, and then a solid chunk of iron struck the -earth with a vengeful swish a few yards from us. A cloud of dirt was -spattered in our faces, stinging us like bees.</p> - -<p>When we had recovered from our surprise, and assured ourselves we -were neither dead nor dying, we made remarks about chance, and the -probability that no other cannon ball would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> strike near us during the -campaign. Just as the last of such remarks were spoken we heard the -roar and heavy boom, followed by the rapid swish through the air, and -the cannon ball struck a full yard nearer to us than the first. We used -vigorous and, I fear, bad language, which, however, is a great relief -sometimes, especially to a soldier.</p> - -<p>“They’ve pushed that gun up too close to us,” said Whitestone. “It’s -among those trees across there. The darkness has helped them.”</p> - -<p>We were of opinion that the men with the gun had our range—that is, of -our particular party—and we thought it wise and healthy to lie down -and expose the least possible surface. I awaited the third shot with -much curiosity and some apprehension.</p> - -<p>Presently we saw a twinkle, as of a powder match, and then a great -flash. The ball shrieked through the air, and with a shiver that could -not be checked we waited for it to strike. True to its predecessors, -it followed nearly the same course and smashed against a stone near -us. One of our men was struck by the rebounding of fragments, of iron -or stone, and severely wounded. It was too dark to see well, but his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -groans spoke for him. Whitestone and I took hold of him and carried him -back for treatment. While we were gone, one man was slain and another -wounded in the same way. In the darkness that British cannon had become -a live thing and was stinging us. Some of our best sharpshooters were -chosen to slay the cannoneers, but they could aim only by the flash -of the gun, and the men loading it had the woods to protect them. The -bullets were wasted, and the troublesome hornet stung again and again.</p> - -<p>We were perplexed. Our pride as well as our safety was concerned. The -idea came to me at last.</p> - -<p>“To fight fire with fire is an old saying,” I remarked to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Why, we must have a cannon too,” I said.</p> - -<p>He understood at once, for Whitestone is not a dull man. He volunteered -to get the cannon and I went along with him to help. We presented -our claim with such urgency and eloquence that the artillery officer -to whom we went was impressed. Also he was near enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> to see how -damaging and dangerous the British cannon had become.</p> - -<p>“You can have Old Ty,” he said, “and be sure you make good use of him.”</p> - -<p>I did not understand, but Whitestone did. He knew Old Ty. He explained -that Old Ty, which was short for “Old Ticonderoga,” was a twenty-four -pounder taken at Ticonderoga early in the war by Ethan Allen and -his Green Mountain Boys. It had done so much service and in so many -campaigns that the gunners had affectionately nicknamed the veteran Old -Ty in memory of the fortress in which he had been taken.</p> - -<p>“I’ve seen Old Ty,” said Whitestone. “He’s been battered about a good -lot, but he’s got a mighty bad bark and a worse bite.”</p> - -<p>In a few minutes the groaning of wheels and the shout of the driver to -the horses announced the approach of Old Ty. I stood aside with respect -while the gun passed, and a grim and fierce old veteran he was, full -worthy the respect of a youngster such as I felt myself to be.</p> - -<p>Old Ty was of very dark metal, and there were many scars upon him where -he had received the blows of enemies of a like caliber.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> A wheel which -had been struck by a ball in the heat of action was bent a trifle to -one side, and Old Ty rolled along as if he were a little lame and -didn’t mind it. His big black muzzle grinned at me as if he were proud -of his scars, and felt good for many more.</p> - -<p>Just behind the gun walked a man as ugly and battered as Old Ty himself.</p> - -<p>“That’s Goss, the gunner,” said Whitestone. “He’s been with Old Ty all -through the war, and loves him better than his wife.”</p> - -<p>On went the fierce and ugly pair like two who knew their duty and loved -it.</p> - -<p>The night, as usual after the first rush of darkness, had begun to -brighten a bit. We could see the British cannon, a long, ugly piece, -without waiting for its flash; yet its gunners were protected so well -by fresh-felled trees and a swell of the earth that our sharpshooters -could not pick them off. They were in good position, and nothing -lighter than Old Ty could drive them out of it.</p> - -<p>The British saw what we were about and sought to check us. They fired -more rapidly, and a cannon ball smashed one of the horses hitched to -Old Ty almost to a pulp. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> Goss sprang forward, seized one wheel, -and threw the veteran into place.</p> - -<p>Old Ty had a position much like that of his antagonist, and Goss, -stroking his iron comrade like one who pets an old friend, began to -seek the range, and take very long and careful looks at the enemy. -Lights along the line of either army flared up, and many looked on.</p> - -<p>“Lie flat on the ground here,” said Whitestone to me. “This is going to -be a pitched battle between the big guns, and you want to look out.”</p> - -<p>I adopted Whitestone’s advice, thinking it very good. Old Ty’s big -black muzzle grinned threateningly across at his antagonist, as if he -longed to show his teeth, but waited the word and hand of his comrade.</p> - -<p>“There goes the bark of the other!” cried Whitestone.</p> - -<p>The bright blaze sprang up, the British cannon roared, and hurled his -shot. The mass of iron swept over Old Ty and buried itself in the -hillside.</p> - -<p>“Much bark, but no bite,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>Old Ty, black and defiant, was yet silent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> Goss was not a man who -hurried himself or his comrade. We waited, breathless. Suddenly Goss -leaned over and touched the match.</p> - -<p>Old Ty spoke in the hoarse, roaring voice that indicates much wear. One -of the felled trees in the British position was shattered, and the ball -bounded to the right and was lost to sight.</p> - -<p>“A little bite,” said Whitestone, “but not deep enough.”</p> - -<p>Old Ty smoked and grew blacker, as if he were not satisfied with -himself. They swabbed out his mouth and filled it with iron again.</p> - -<p>Where I lay I could see the muzzles of both cannon threatening each -other. The Briton was slower than before, as if he wished to be sure. -Goss continued to pat his comrade by way of stirring up his spirit. -That did not seem to me to be needed, for Old Ty was the very fellow I -would have chosen for such a furious contention as this.</p> - -<p>The two champions spoke at the same instant, and the roar of them was -so great that for the moment I thought I would be struck deaf. A great -cloud of smoke enveloped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> either cannon, but when it raised both sides -cheered.</p> - -<p>Old Ty had received a fresh blow on his lame wheel, and careened a -little farther to one side, but the Briton was hit the harder of the -two. His axle had been battered by Old Ty’s ball, and the British were -as busy as bees propping him up for the third raid.</p> - -<p>“Rather evenly matched,” grunted Whitestone, “and both full of grit. I -think we shall have some very pretty sport here.”</p> - -<p>I was of Whitestone’s opinion.</p> - -<p>I could see Goss frowning. He did not like the wound Old Ty had -received, and stroked the lame wheel. “Steady, old partner,” I heard -him say. “We’ll beat ’em yet.”</p> - -<p>All at once I noticed that the lights along the line had increased, and -some thousands were looking on at the battle of the two giants.</p> - -<p>“Old Ty must win!” I said to Whitestone. “We can’t let him lose.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said Whitestone, shaking his head. “A battle’s never -over till the last shot’s fired.”</p> - -<p>The Briton was first, and it was well that we were sheltered. The ball -glanced along Old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> Ty’s barrel, making a long rip in the iron, and -bounded over our heads and across the hill.</p> - -<p>“Old Ty got it that time,” said Whitestone. “That was a cruel blow.”</p> - -<p>He spoke truth, and a less seasoned veteran than Old Ty would have -been crushed by it. There was a look of deep concern on Goss’s face -as he ran his hand over the huge rent in Old Ty’s side. Then his face -brightened a bit, and I concluded the veteran was good for more hard -blows.</p> - -<p>The blow must have had some effect upon Old Ty’s voice or temper. At -any rate, when he replied his roar was hoarser and angrier. A cry arose -from the British ranks, and I saw them taking away a body. Old Ty had -tasted blood. But the British cannon was as formidable as ever.</p> - -<p>“The chances look a bit against Old Ty,” commented Whitestone, and I -had to confess to myself, although with reluctance, that it was so.</p> - -<p>Goss was very slow in his preparations for the fourth shot. He had the -men to steady Old Ty, and he made a slight change in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> elevation. -Again both spoke at the same time, and Old Ty groaned aloud as the mass -of British iron tore along his barrel, ripping out a gap deeper and -longer than any other. His own bolt tore off one of the Briton’s wheels.</p> - -<p>“The Englishman’s on one leg,” said Whitestone, “but Old Ty’s got it -next to the heart. Chances two to one in favor of the Englishman.”</p> - -<p>I sighed. Poor Old Ty! I could not bear to see the veteran beaten. -Goss’s hard, dark face showed grief. He examined Old Ty with care and -fumbled about him.</p> - -<p>“What is he doing?” I asked of Whitestone, who lay nearer the gun.</p> - -<p>“I think he’s trying to see if Old Ty will stand another shot,” he -said. “He’s got some big rips in the barrel, and he may leave in all -directions when the powder explodes.”</p> - -<p>Old Ty in truth was ragged and torn like a veteran in his last fight. -The Briton had lost one wheel and was propped up on the side, but his -black muzzle looked triumphant across the way.</p> - -<p>The British fired again and then shouted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> in triumph. Old Ty, too, had -lost a wheel, which the shot had pounded into old iron.</p> - -<p>“Old Ty is near his end,” said Whitestone. “One leg gone and holes in -his body as big as my hat; that’s too much!”</p> - -<p>Old Ty was straightened up, and Goss giving the word, the shot was -rolled into his wide mouth. Then the gunner, as grim and battered as -his gun, took aim. Upon the instant all our men rushed to cover.</p> - -<p>Goss touched the match, and a crash far outdoing all the others stunned -us. With the noise in my ears and the smoke in my eyes I knew not what -had happened. But Whitestone cried aloud in joy. Rubbing my eyes clear, -I looked across to see the effect of the shot. I saw only a heap of -rubbish. Old Ty’s bolt had smote his enemy and blown up the caisson and -the cannon with it.</p> - -<p>Then I looked at Old Ty to see how he bore his triumph, but his mighty -barrel was split asunder and he was a cannon no longer, just pieces of -old iron.</p> - -<p>Sitting on a log was some one with tears on his hard, brown face. It -was Goss, the gunner, weeping over the end of his comrade.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIX.</span> <span class="smaller">THE MAN FROM CLINTON.</span></h2> - -<p>At one o’clock in the morning I went off duty, and at five minutes past -one o’clock I had begun a very pleasant and healthful slumber. At eight -o’clock I awoke, and found Whitestone sitting by a little fire cooking -strips of bacon, some of which he was so kind as to give me.</p> - -<p>Whitestone’s face was puffed out in the manner of one who has news to -tell, and I was quite willing that he should gratify himself by telling -it to me.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Whitestone?” I asked. “Has the British army surrendered -while I slept?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Whitestone, “and it may not surrender after all.”</p> - -<p>“What!” I exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“It’s just as I say,” said Whitestone, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>lighting the inevitable pipe. -“It may not surrender after all.”</p> - -<p>“What has happened?”</p> - -<p>Whitestone’s cheeks continued to swell with a sense of importance.</p> - -<p>“Clinton’s advancing with seven thousand men,” he said.</p> - -<p>“That’s nothing,” I said. “Clinton’s been advancing for weeks, and he -never gets near us.”</p> - -<p>“But he is near us this time, sure enough,” said the sergeant very -seriously.</p> - -<p>I was still unbelieving, and looked my unbelief.</p> - -<p>“It’s as I say,” resumed the sergeant; “there is no doubt about it. -Just after daylight this morning some skirmishers took a messenger -from Clinton, who bore dispatches announcing his arrival within a very -short time. It seems that Clinton is much farther up the river than we -supposed, and that his army is also much larger than all our reckonings -made it. I guess that with re-enforcements he got over the fright we -gave him.”</p> - -<p>This in truth sounded like a matter of moment. I asked Whitestone if he -was sure of what he reported, and he said the news was all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> over the -camp. I must confess that I felt as if it were a personal blow. I had -looked upon the capture of Burgoyne as a certainty, but the arrival of -Clinton with seven thousand fresh men would be sure to snatch the prize -from us. It looked like a very jest of fate that we should lose our -spoil after all our labors and battles.</p> - -<p>“What’s to be done, Whitestone?” I asked gloomily.</p> - -<p>“In a case of this kind,” he replied, “I’m glad that I’m a humble -sergeant, and not a general. Let the generals settle it. Take another -piece of the bacon; it’s crisp and fresh.”</p> - -<p>“Have you seen this captured messenger?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Whitestone. “They have him in a tent over yonder, and I -think the officers have been busy with him, trying to pump him.”</p> - -<p>As soon as I finished the bacon I walked about the camp to see if I -could learn anything further concerning the matter, in which attempt -I failed. I saw, however, its effect upon the army, which vented its -feelings largely in the way of swearing. The soldiers expected we would -have to leave Burgoyne and turn southward to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> fight Clinton. Some said -luck was always against us.</p> - -<p>I was interrupted in my stroll by a message from my colonel to come at -once. I hurried to him with some apprehension. He had expressed his -high confidence in me of late, and, as I have said before, these high -confidences bring hard duties.</p> - -<p>But the matter was not so difficult as I had expected.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Shelby,” said the colonel, “we took prisoner this morning a man -bearing important dispatches from Clinton to Burgoyne—you have heard -about it, doubtless; it seems to be known all over the camp—and I am -directly responsible for his safe keeping for the time being. He is in -that tent which you can see on the hillside. Take three men and guard -him. You need not intrude upon him, though; he seems to be a very -gentlemanly fellow.”</p> - -<p>Of course I chose Whitestone as one of my three men, and we began our -guard over the tent. I understood from the gossip Whitestone had picked -up that the generals were debating what movement to make after the -important news obtained, and probably they would <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>examine the prisoner -again later on. It was not at all likely that the prisoner, placed as -he was in the center of our camp, could escape, but there might be -reasons for keeping him close in the tent; so our watch was very strict.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, Whitestone and I chatted a bit, which was within our -right, and tried to guess what would be the result of the campaign -if we had to turn southward and fight Clinton, with Burgoyne on our -rear. Doubtless some of these comments and queries were heard by the -prisoner, whose feet I could see sticking out in front of the tent -flap, but whose body was beyond our view. But I did not see that it -mattered, and we talked on with freedom. Once I saw the prisoner’s feet -bob up a bit, as if he suffered from some kind of nervous contraction, -but I made very slight note of it.</p> - -<p>The debate of the generals lasted long, and I inferred, therefore, -that their perplexity was great. Whitestone and I ceased to talk, and -as I, having command of the little detachment, was under no obligation -to parade, musket on shoulder, I sat down on a stone near the flap of -the tent and made myself as comfortable as I could. From my position I -could still see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> the prisoner’s boots, a substantial British pair, of -a kind that we could envy, for most of the time we were nearly bare of -foot, sometimes entirely so.</p> - -<p>The camp was peaceful, on the whole. The rattle of drums, the sound of -voices, rose in the regular, steady fashion which becomes a hum. The -prisoner was silent—unusually silent. He seemed to have no curiosity -about us, and to prefer to remain in the shadow of his tent. In his -place, I would have had my head out looking at everything. I noticed -presently the attitude of his boots. They were cocked up on their -heels, toes high in the air. I inferred immediately that the man was -lying flat on his back, which was not at all unreasonable, as he -probably needed rest after traveling all night.</p> - -<p>The hum of the camp became a murmur, and it was answered by a slighter -murmur from the tent. The prisoner was snoring. He was not only flat -upon his back, but asleep. I felt an admiration for the calmness -of mind which could turn placidly to slumber in such an exciting -situation. A curiosity about this prisoner, already born in me, began -to grow. He was most likely a man worth knowing. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> - -<p>I concluded that I would take a look at the sleeping Englishman -despite my orders. I did not mention my idea to Whitestone, because -I thought he might object, and hint it was none of my business to go -in. I stooped down and entered the tent, which was a small one. As I -surmised, the prisoner was lying upon his back and was fast asleep. -The snore, which became much more assertive now that I had entered the -tent, left no doubt about his slumbers. Yet I could not see his face, -which was far back under the edge of the tent.</p> - -<p>I reached back and pulled the tent-flap still farther aside, letting -in a fine flow of sunlight. It fell directly upon the face of the -prisoner, bringing out every feature with the distinctness of carving.</p> - -<p>My first emotion was surprise; my second, wrath; my third, amusement.</p> - -<p>The prisoner was Albert Van Auken.</p> - -<p>I do not claim that mine is the acutest mind in the world; but at a -single glance I saw to the bottom of the whole affair, and the desire -to laugh grew very strong upon me. It had not been twenty-four hours -since I was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>talking to Albert Van Auken in Burgoyne’s camp, and here -he was a prisoner in our camp, bringing dispatches from Clinton, down -the river, to Burgoyne. I believe some things—not all things.</p> - -<p>I perceived that the bright light shining directly into Albert’s eyes -would soon awaken him. In truth he was yawning even then. I sat down in -front of him, closing my arms around my knees in the attitude of one -who waits.</p> - -<p>Albert yawned prodigiously. I guessed that he must have been up all the -previous night to have become so sleepy. He would have relapsed into -slumber, but the penetrating streak of sunshine would not let him. It -played all over his face, and inserting itself between his eyelids, -pried them open.</p> - -<p>Albert sat up, and, after the manner of man, rubbed his eyes. He knew -that some one was in the tent with him, but he could not see who it -was. I had taken care of that. I was in the dark and he was in the -light.</p> - -<p>“Well, what is it you wish?” he asked, after he had finished rubbing -his eyes.</p> - -<p>I guessed that he took me for one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> general officers who had been -examining him. I have a trick of changing my voice when I wish to do -so, and this was one of the times when I wished.</p> - -<p>“I am to ask you some further questions in regard to the matters we -were discussing this morning,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Well!” said Albert impatiently, as if he would like to be done with it.</p> - -<p>“According to the dispatches which we secured when we took you,” I -said, “Sir Henry Clinton was very near at hand with a large army.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” said Albert, in a tone of great emphasis.</p> - -<p>“It is strange,” I said, “that we did not hear of his near approach -until we took you this morning. Our scouts and skirmishers have brought -us no such news.”</p> - -<p>“It is probably due to the fact, general,” said Albert politely, “that -we captured your scouts and skirmishers as we advanced northward. Our -celerity of movement was so great that they could not escape us.”</p> - -<p>“That was remarkable marching, in truth,” I said admiringly. “You -Englishmen are as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> rapid in movement as you are strenuous in battle.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, general,” said Albert, with complacent vanity. I felt a -strong inclination to kick him. I hate Tories, and, in particular, -those who would have people think they are Englishmen.</p> - -<p>“I believe you said Sir Henry Clinton had several thousand men with -him,” I resumed.</p> - -<p>“I did not say it,” replied Albert, “but most unfortunately it was -revealed in the dispatches which you captured upon me. I may add, -however, that the number is nearer eight thousand than seven thousand.”</p> - -<p>I understood the impression he wished to create, and I was willing to -further his humor.</p> - -<p>“Eight thousand with Sir Henry Clinton,” I said, as if musing, “and -Burgoyne has six thousand; that makes fourteen thousand, all regular -troops, thoroughly armed and equipped otherwise. We can scarce hope to -capture both armies.”</p> - -<p>“Not both, nor one either,” said Albert in derision. “As a matter of -fact, general, I think you will have some difficulty in looking after -your own safety.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> - -<p>“By what manner of reasoning do you arrive at that conclusion?” asked -I, wishing to lead him on.</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, you know what British troops are,” said Albert -superciliously; “and when fourteen thousand of them are together, I -imagine that troubles have arrived for their enemies.”</p> - -<p>My inclination to kick him took on a sudden and violent increase. It -was with the most extreme difficulty that I retained command over my -mutinous foot.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps it is as you assert,” I said musingly. “In fact there would -seem to be no doubt that it is best for us to let Burgoyne go, and -retreat with what rapidity we can.”</p> - -<p>“Of course! of course!” said Albert eagerly. “That is the only thing -you can do.”</p> - -<p>Now a desire to laugh instead of a desire to kick overspread me; but I -mastered it as I had the other.</p> - -<p>“I wish to tell you, however,” I said, assuming my politest manner, -“and in telling you I speak for the other American generals, that -however little we are pleased with the news you bear, we are much -pleased with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> bearer. We have found you to be a young gentleman of -courtesy, breeding, and discernment.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Albert in a tone of much gratification.</p> - -<p>“And,” I resumed, “we have arrived at a certain conclusion; I may add -also that we have arrived at that conclusion quickly and unanimously.”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” asked Albert with eager interest.</p> - -<p>“That we have met many graceful and accomplished liars in our time, but -of them all you are the most graceful and accomplished,” I said with -grave politeness, my tongue lingering over the long words.</p> - -<p>Albert uttered something which sounded painfully and amazingly like -an oath, and sprang to his feet, his face flushing red with anger or -shame, I am uncertain which.</p> - -<p>He raised his hand as if he would strike me, but I moved around a -little, and the light in its turn fell on my face. He uttered another -cry, and this time there was no doubt about its being an oath. He -looked at me, his face growing redder and redder. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Dick,” he said in a tone of deep reproach, “I call this devilish -unkind.”</p> - -<p>“The unkindness is all on your side, Albert,” I retorted. “You have -given me more trouble in this campaign than all the rest of Burgoyne’s -army—if that fellow Chudleigh be counted out—and here I have you on -my hands again.”</p> - -<p>“Who asked you to come into my tent?” said Albert angrily. “I heard you -outside a while ago, but I did not think you would come in.”</p> - -<p>“That was when your feet bobbed up,” I said. “You must retain more -control over them, Albert. Now that I think of it, and trace things to -their remote causes, that movement first stirred in me the curiosity to -see your face, and not your feet only. Have them amputated, Albert.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean to do?” he asked with an air of resignation.</p> - -<p>“Mean to do!” I said in a tone of surprise. “Why, I mean to retreat -with all the remainder of our army as quickly as we can in order to get -out of the way of those fourteen thousand invincible British veterans -who will soon be united in one force.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Now stop that, Dick,” said Albert entreatingly. “Don’t be too hard on -a fellow.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” I replied; “go to sleep again.”</p> - -<p>Without further ado I left the tent, and found Whitestone waiting -outside in some anxiety.</p> - -<p>“You stayed so long,” he said, “I thought perhaps the fellow had killed -you.”</p> - -<p>“Not by any means as bad as that,” I replied. “I found him to be a -very pleasant young man, and we had a conversation long and most -interesting.”</p> - -<p>“About what?” Whitestone could not keep from asking.</p> - -<p>“About many things,” I replied, “and one thing that I learned was of -special importance.”</p> - -<p>“What was that?”</p> - -<p>“How to send Clinton and his eight thousand men back below Albany, hold -Burgoyne fast, and continue the campaign as it was begun.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a pretty big job,” said Whitestone, “for one man, and that one, -too, rather young and not overweighted with rank.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe you think so,” I said with lofty indifference. “But I can do it, -and, what is more,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> I will prove to you that I can. You can stay here -while I go down to the council of generals and tell them what to do.”</p> - -<p>Not giving Whitestone time to recover, I stalked off in a state of -extreme dignity.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XX.</span> <span class="smaller">NOT A DROP TO DRINK.</span></h2> - -<p>I pressed into the council of the generals with an energy that would -not be denied, also with some strength of the knee, as an officious -aid-de-camp can testify even at this late day. As a matter of course, -my information was of such quality that everybody was delighted with me -and praise became common. Again I felt as if I ought to be commander -in chief. Again I had sufficient self-sacrifice to keep the thought to -myself.</p> - -<p>As I left the room they were talking about the disposition of the -prisoner who had tried to trick us into precipitate flight and the -abandonment of our prey. This put an idea into my head, and I told -it to a colonel near the door, who in his turn told it to their high -mightinesses, the generals, who were wise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> enough to approve of it, -and, in truth, to indorse it most heartily.</p> - -<p>I suggested that Albert be sent back to Burgoyne with the most gracious -compliments of our commander in chief, who was pleased to hear the -news of the speedy arrival of Clinton, which would greatly increase -the number of prisoners we were about to take. I asked, as some small -reward for my great services, that I be chosen to escort Albert into -the British camp and deliver the message. That, too, was granted -readily.</p> - -<p>“You can deliver the message by word of mouth,” said one of the -generals; “it would be too cruel a jest to put it in writing, and -perhaps our dignity would suffer also.”</p> - -<p>I was not thinking so much of the jest as of another plan I had in mind.</p> - -<p>I found Whitestone keeping faithful watch at the tent.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said he, with a croak that he meant for a laugh of sarcasm, “I -suppose the generals fell on your neck and embraced you with delight -when you told them what to do.”</p> - -<p>“They did not fall on my neck, but certainly they were very much -delighted,” I said;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> “and they are going to do everything I told them -to do.”</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” said Whitestone. “Keep it up. While you’re spinning a -yarn, spin a good one.”</p> - -<p>“It’s just as I say,” I said, “and as the first proof of it, I am going -to take the prisoner as a present to Burgoyne.”</p> - -<p>Turning my back on the worthy sergeant, I entered the tent, and found -Albert reclining on a blanket, the expression of chagrin still on his -face. To tell the truth, I did not feel at all sorry for him, for, as I -have said before, Albert had been a great care to me.</p> - -<p>“Get up,” I said with a roughness intended, “and come with me.”</p> - -<p>“What are they going to do with me?” asked Albert. “They can’t hang me -as a spy; I was taken in full uniform.”</p> - -<p>“Nobody wants to hang you, or do you any other harm,” I said. “In -your present lively and healthful condition you afford us too much -amusement. We do not see how either army could spare you. Put your hat -on and come on.”</p> - -<p>He followed very obediently and said <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>nothing. He knew I held the whip -hand over him.</p> - -<p>“Sergeant,” I said to Whitestone, “you need not watch any longer, since -the tent is empty.”</p> - -<p>Then I took Albert away without another word. I had it in mind to -punish Whitestone, who was presuming a little on his age and experience -and his services to me.</p> - -<p>I really could not help laughing to myself as I went along. This would -make the third time I had entered Burgoyne’s camp as an escort—once -with Chudleigh, once with Albert’s sister and mother, and now with -Albert. I was fast getting to be at home in either camp. I began to -feel a bit of regret at the prospect of Burgoyne’s speedy surrender, -which would break up all these pleasant little excursions.</p> - -<p>Albert showed surprise when he saw us leaving our camp and going toward -Burgoyne’s.</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Nothing, except to take you back where you belong,” I said. “We don’t -care to be bothered with you.”</p> - -<p>“You hold me rather cheaply,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Very,” I replied. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> - -<p>The return of Albert was an easy matter. I met a colonel, to whom -I delivered him and also the message from our council. The colonel -did not seem to know of Albert’s intended mission, for the message -puzzled him. I offered no explanations, leaving him to exaggerate it or -diminish it in the transmission as he pleased.</p> - -<p>When I turned away after our brief colloquy, I saw Kate Van Auken, -which was what I had hoped for when I asked the privilege of bringing -Albert back. Her paleness and look of care had increased, but again I -was compelled to confess to myself that her appearance did not suffer -by it. There was no change in her spirit.</p> - -<p>“Have you become envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary -between the two camps, Dick?” she asked in a tone that seemed to me to -be touched slightly with irony.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps,” I replied; “I have merely brought your brother back to you -again, Mistress Catherine.”</p> - -<p>“We are grateful.”</p> - -<p>“This makes twice I’ve saved him for you,” I said, “and I’ve brought -Chudleigh back to you once. I want to say that if you have any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> other -relatives and friends who need taking care of, will you kindly send for -me?”</p> - -<p>“You have done much for us,” she said. “There is no denying it.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I have,” I said modestly. “When I presented Chudleigh to you, -you called me a fool. I suppose you are willing now to take it back.”</p> - -<p>“I was most impolite, I know, and I’m sorry——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you take it back, then?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry that I have to regret the expression, for, Dick, that is -what you are.”</p> - -<p>There was the faintest suspicion of a smile on her face, and I could -not become quite as angry as I did on the first occasion. But she -showed no inclination to take the harsh word back, and perforce I left -very much dissatisfied.</p> - -<p>When I returned to our camp I found much activity prevailing. It seemed -to be the intention of our leaders to close in and seize the prize -without further delay. No attack was to be made upon Burgoyne’s camp, -but the circle of fire which closed him in became broader and pressed -tighter. The number of sharpshooters <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>was doubled, and there was scarce -a point in the circumference of Burgoyne’s camp which they could not -reach with their rifle balls, while the British could not attempt -repayment without exposing themselves to destruction. Yet they held -out, and we did not refuse them praise for their bravery and tenacity.</p> - -<p>The morning after my return I said to Whitestone that I gave the -British only three days longer. Whitestone shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Maybe,” he said, “and maybe not so long. They’ve been cut off at a new -point.”</p> - -<p>I asked him what he meant.</p> - -<p>“Why, the British are dying of thirst,” he said. “They are in plain -sight of the Hudson—in some places they are not more than a few yards -from it—but our sharpshooters have crept up till they can sweep all -the space between the British camp and the river. The British can’t -get water unless they cross that strip of ground, and every man that’s -tried to cross it has been killed.”</p> - -<p>I shuddered. I could not help it. This was war—war of the kind that -wins, but I did not like it. Yet, despite my dislike, I was to take -part in it, and that very soon. It was known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> that I was expert with -the rifle, and I was ordered to choose a good weapon and join a small -detachment that lay on a hill commanding the narrowest bit of ground -between the British camp and the river. About a dozen of us were there, -and I was not at all surprised to find Whitestone among the number. It -seemed that if I went anywhere and he didn’t go too, it was because he -was there already.</p> - -<p>“I don’t like this, Whitestone. I don’t like it a bit,” I said -discontentedly.</p> - -<p>“You can shoot into the air,” he said, “and it won’t be any harm. There -are plenty of others who will shoot to kill.”</p> - -<p>I could see that Whitestone was right about the others. Most of them -were from the mountains of Virginia and Pennsylvania, backwoodsmen and -trained Indian fighters, who thought it right to shoot an enemy from -ambush. In truth this was a sort of business they rather enjoyed, as it -was directly in their line.</p> - -<p>As I held some official rank I was in a certain sense above the others, -though I was not their commander, each man knowing well what he was -about and doing what he chose, which was to shoot plump at the first -human being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> that appeared on the dead line. A thin, active Virginian -had climbed a tree in order to get a better aim, and shot with deadly -effect from its boughs.</p> - -<p>I sat down behind a clump of earth and examined my rifle.</p> - -<p>“Look across there,” said Whitestone, pointing to the open space.</p> - -<p>I did so, and for the second time that day I shuddered. Prone upon the -ground were three bodies in the well-known English uniform. A pail lay -beside one of them. I knew without the telling of it that those men had -fallen in their attempt to reach the water which flowed by—millions -and millions of gallons—just out of reach.</p> - -<p>“It’s rather dull now; nobody’s tried to pass the dead line for an -hour,” said Bucks, a man from the mountains of western Pennsylvania, -with a face of copper like an Indian’s.</p> - -<p>“Did any one succeed in passing?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Pass!” said Bucks, laughing. “What do you reckon we’re here for? No -sirree! The river is just as full as ever.”</p> - -<p>There was an unpleasant ring in the man’s voice which gave me a further -distaste for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> work in hand. Our position was well adapted to our -task. The hill was broken with low outcroppings of stone and small -ridges. So long as we exercised moderate caution we could aim and shoot -in comparative safety. Bucks spoke my thoughts when he said:</p> - -<p>“It’s just like shooting deer at a salt lick.”</p> - -<p>But the dullness continued. Those red-clad bodies, two of them with -their faces upturned to the sun, were a terrible warning to the others -not to make the trial. Two of our men, finding time heavy, produced a -worn pack of cards and began to play old sledge, their rifles lying -beside them.</p> - -<p>The waters of the broad river glittered in the sun. Now and then a fish -leaped up and shot back like a flash, leaving the bubbles to tell where -he had gone. The spatter of musketry around the circle of the British -camp had become so much a habit that one noticed it only when it ceased -for the time. The white rings of smoke from the burnt powder floated -away, peaceful little clouds, and, like patches of snow against the -blue sky, helped out the beauty of an early autumn day.</p> - -<p>All of us were silent except the two men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> playing cards. I half closed -my eyes, for the sun was bright and the air was warm, and gave myself -up to lazy, vague thought. I was very glad that we had nothing to do, -and even should the time to act come, I resolved that I would follow -Whitestone’s hint.</p> - -<p>The two men playing cards became absorbed in the game. One threw down a -card and uttered a cry of triumph.</p> - -<p>“Caught your Jack!”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said the other; “it’s only two for you, your low, Jack -against my high, game. I’m even with you.”</p> - -<p>I became interested. I was lying on my back with my head on a soft -bunch of turf. I raised up a little that I might see these players, who -could forget such a business as theirs in a game of cards. Their faces -were sharp and eager, and when they picked up the cards I could tell by -their expression whether they were good or bad.</p> - -<p>“Four and four,” said one, “and this hand settles the business. Five’s -the game.”</p> - -<p>The other began to deal the cards, but a rifle was fired so close to -my ear that the sound was that of a cannon. The echo ceasing, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> heard -Bucks and the man in the tree swearing profusely at each other.</p> - -<p>“He’s mine, I tell you!” said Bucks.</p> - -<p>“It was my bullet that did it!” said the man in the tree with equal -emphasis.</p> - -<p>“I guess it was both of you,” put in Whitestone. “You fired so close -together I heard only one shot, but I reckon both bullets counted.”</p> - -<p>This seemed to pacify them. I looked over the little ridge of earth -before us, and saw a fourth red-clad body lying on the greensward near -the river. It was as still as the others.</p> - -<p>“He made a dash for the water,” said Whitestone, who caught my eye, -“but the lead overtook him before he was halfway.”</p> - -<p>The two men put aside their cards, business being resumed; but after -this attempt we lay idle a long time. Bucks, who had an infernal zeal, -never took his eyes off the greensward save to look at the priming of -his gun.</p> - -<p>“I could hit the mark at least twenty yards farther than that,” he said -to me confidently.</p> - -<p>Noon came, and I hoped I would be relieved of this duty, but it was -not so. It seemed that it would be an all-day task. The men took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> some -bread and cold meat from their pouches and we ate. When the last crumb -fell, a man appeared at the edge of the greensward and held up his -hands. Bucks’s finger was already on the trigger of his gun, but I made -him stop. The man’s gesture meant something, and, moreover, I saw that -he was unarmed. I called also to the Virginian in the tree to hold his -fire.</p> - -<p>I thought I knew the meaning of the pantomime. I took my rifle and -turned the muzzle of it to the earth so conspicuously that the -Englishman, who was holding up his hands, could not fail to see. When -he saw, he advanced boldly, and laying hold of one of the bodies -dragged it away. He returned for a second, and a third, and then a -fourth, and when he had taken the last he did not come back again.</p> - -<p>“That’s a good job well done!” I said with much relief when the last -of the fallen men had been taken away. It was much pleasanter to look -at the greensward now, since there was no red spot upon it. I said to -Whitestone that I thought the English would not make the trial again.</p> - -<p>“They will,” he replied. “They must have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> water, and maybe they don’t -know even yet what kind of riflemen we have.”</p> - -<p>Whitestone was right. In a half hour a man appeared protecting his -body with a heavy board as long as himself. He moved with slowness and -awkwardness, but two or three bullets fired into the board seemed to -make no impression.</p> - -<p>“At any rate, if he reaches the river and gets back all right it’s too -slow a way to slake the thirst of many,” said Whitestone in the tone of -a philosopher.</p> - -<p>Bucks’s face puffed out with anger.</p> - -<p>“They mustn’t get a drop!” he said with the freedom of a backwoodsman. -“We’re to keep ’em from it; that’s what we’re here for.”</p> - -<p>The man looked fierce in his wrath and I did not reprove him, for after -all he was right, though not very polite.</p> - -<p>The man in the tree fired, and a tiny patch of red cloth flew into the -air. The bullet had cut his clothes, but it could not reach the man, -who continued to shamble behind his board toward the river.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid we won’t be able to stop him,” I said to Bucks. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> - -<p>Bucks had crawled to the edge of the hill and was watching with the -ferocity and rancor of a savage for a chance to shoot. Often I think -that these men who live out in the forests among the savages learn to -share their nature.</p> - -<p>I could not see because of the board, but I guessed that the man -carried a bucket, or pail, in one hand. In truth I was right, for -presently a corner of the pail appeared, and it was struck instantly by -a bullet from the rifle of the man in the tree.</p> - -<p>“At any rate, we’ve sprung a leak in his pail for him,” said Whitestone.</p> - -<p>I began to take much interest in the matter. Not intending it, I felt -like a hunter in pursuit of a wary animal. My scruples were forgotten -for the moment. I found myself sighting along the barrel of my rifle -seeking a shot. The Englishman had ceased for me to be a human being -like myself. I caught a glimpse of a red-coat sleeve at the edge of the -board and would have fired, but as my finger touched the trigger it -disappeared and I held back. Whitestone was at my shoulder, the same -eagerness showing on his face. The man in the tree had squirmed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> like a -snake far out on the bough, and was seeking for a shot over the top of -the board.</p> - -<p>The Englishman trailed himself and his protecting board along, and -was within a yard of the water. Over the earthwork at the edge of the -British camp the men were watching him. His friends were as eager for -his success as we were to slay him. It was a rivalry that incited in us -a stronger desire to reach him with the lead. In such a competition a -man’s life becomes a very small pawn. For us the Englishmen had become -a target, and nothing more.</p> - -<p>Bucks was the most eager of us. He showed his teeth like a wolf.</p> - -<p>The Englishman reached the water and stooped over to fill his pail. -Bending, he forgot himself and thrust his head beyond the board. With -a quickness that I have never seen surpassed, Bucks threw up his rifle -and fired. The Englishman fell into the water as dead as a stone, and, -his board and his pail falling too, floated off down the stream.</p> - -<p>I uttered a cry of triumph, and then clapped my hand in shame over my -mouth. The water pulling at the Englishman’s body took it out into the -deeper stream, and it too floated away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> The zest of the chase was gone -for me in an instant, and I felt only a kind of pitying horror. Never -before in my life had I been assigned to work so hateful.</p> - -<p>Bucks crawled back all a-grin. I turned my back to him while he -received the praise of the man in the tree. It was evident to me that -nobody could cross the dead line in the face of such sharpshooters, and -I hoped the British saw the fact as well as we.</p> - -<p>Our enemies must have been very hard pressed, for after a while another -man tried the risk of the greensward. He came out only a few feet, and -when a bullet clipped right under his feet he turned and fled back, -which drew some words of scorn from Bucks, but which seemed to me to be -a very wise and timely act.</p> - -<p>I thought that this would be the last trial, but Whitestone again -disagreed with me.</p> - -<p>“When men are burning up with thirst and see a river full of water -running by, they’ll try mighty hard to get to that river,” he said.</p> - -<p>The sergeant’s logic looked good, but for a full hour it failed. I felt -sleepy, again, but was aroused by the man in the tree dropping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> some -twigs, one of which struck me in the face.</p> - -<p>“They’re going to try it again,” he said.</p> - -<p>As I have remarked, we could see a small earthwork which the British -had thrown up, and whoever tried to pass the dead line would be sure to -come from that point. The man in the tree had a better view than we, -and I guessed that he saw heads coming over the earthwork.</p> - -<p>Among our men was a slight bustle that told of preparation, a last look -at the flints, a shoving forward for a better position. I looked at my -own rifle, but I resolved that I would not allow zeal to overcome me -again. I would remember Whitestone’s suggestion and fire into the air, -leaving the real work to Bucks and the others, who would be glad enough -to do it. I saw the flutter of a garment at the earthwork and some one -came over. The man on the bough above me uttered a cry, to which I gave -the echo. All the blood in me seemed to rush to my head.</p> - -<p>Kate Van Auken, carrying a large bucket in her hand, stepped upon the -greensward and walked very calmly toward the river, not once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> turning -her eyes toward the hill where she knew the sharpshooters lay. Behind -her came a strapping, bare-armed Englishwoman, who looked like a -corporal’s wife, and then four more women, carrying buckets or pails.</p> - -<p>Bucks raised his rifle and began to take aim. I sprang up and dashed -his rifle aside. I am afraid I swore at him too. I hope I did.</p> - -<p>“What are you about, Bucks?” I cried. “Would you shoot a woman?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Shelby,” he replied very coolly, “we’re put here to keep the -British from that water, man or woman. What’s a woman’s life to the -fate of a whole army? You may outrank me, but you don’t command me in -this case, and I’m going to shoot.”</p> - -<p>I stooped down and with a sudden movement snatched the gun from his -grasp.</p> - -<p>“Don’t mind it, Bucks,” said the man in the tree; “I’ll shoot.”</p> - -<p>“If you do,” I cried, “I’ll put a bullet through you the next moment.”</p> - -<p>“And if you should chance to miss,” said Whitestone, coming up beside -me, “I’ve a bullet in my gun for the same man.”</p> - -<p>The man in the tree was no martyr, nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> wanting to be, and he cried out -to us that he would not shoot. In proof of it he took his gunstock from -his shoulder. The other men did nothing, waiting upon my movements.</p> - -<p>“Bucks,” I said, “if I give you your gun, do you promise not to shoot -at those women?”</p> - -<p>“Do you take all the responsibility?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly.”</p> - -<p>“Give me my gun. I won’t use it.”</p> - -<p>I handed him his rifle, which he took in silence. I don’t think Bucks -was a bad man, merely one borne along by an excess of zeal. He has -thanked me since for restraining him. The women, Kate still leading -them, filled their buckets and pails at the river and walked back to -the camp with the same calm and even step. Again and again was this -repeated, and many a fever-burnt throat in the besieged camp must have -been grateful. I felt a glow when I sent a messenger to our colonel -with word of what I had done and he returned with a full indorsement. -How could our officers have done otherwise?</p> - -<p>I was sorry I could not get a better view of Kate Van Auken’s face. -But she never turned it our way. Apparently she was ignorant of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> our -existence, though, of course, it was but a pretense, and she knew that -a dozen of the best marksmen in America lay on the hill within easy -range of her comrades and herself.</p> - -<p>“There’s but one thing more for you to do, Mr. Shelby,” whispered -Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“What’s that?”</p> - -<p>“Save the life of madame, her mother. She’s the only one yet unsaved by -you.”</p> - -<p>“I will, Whitestone,” I replied, “if I get the chance.”</p> - -<p>After a while, though late, the women ceased to come for the water. -Presently the sun went down and that day’s work was done.</p> - -<p>My belief that Chudleigh was a very fortunate man was deepening.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE MESSENGER.</span></h2> - -<p>I rose early the next morning, and my first wish was for duties -other than keeping the enemy away from the water. I found Whitestone -sitting on his camp blanket and smoking his pipe with an expression of -deep-seated content.</p> - -<p>“What are we to do to-day?” I asked him, for Whitestone usually knew -everything.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t heard of anything,” he replied. “Maybe we’ll rest. We -deserve it, you and I.”</p> - -<p>Whitestone has some egotism, though I do not undertake to criticise him -for it.</p> - -<p>It seemed that he was right, for we were like two men forgotten, which -is a pleasant thing sometimes in the military life. Finding that we -had nothing else to do, we walked toward the British camp, which, as -a matter of course, was the great object of curiosity for all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> of us, -and sat down just within the line of our sharpshooters. The zeal and -activity of these gentlemen had relaxed in no particular, and the -crackle of their rifles was a most familiar sound in our ears.</p> - -<p>We had a good position and could note the distressed look of the -British camp. The baggage wagons were drawn up with small reference to -convenience and more to defense. The house, the cellar of which I knew -to be inhabited by women, children, and severely wounded men, was so -torn by cannon balls that the wind had a fair sweep through it in many -places. Some of the soldiers walking about seemed to us at the distance -to be drooping and dejected. Yet they made resistance, and their -skirmishers were replying to ours, though but feebly.</p> - -<p>While I was watching the house I saw three or four officers in very -brilliant uniforms come out. After a few steps they stopped and stood -talking together with what seemed to be great earnestness. These men -were generals, I was sure; their uniforms indicated it, and I guessed -they had been holding conference. It must be a matter of importance or -they would not stop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> on their way from it to talk again. I directed -Whitestone’s attention, but he was looking already.</p> - -<p>“Something’s up,” I said. “Maybe they are planning an attack upon us.”</p> - -<p>“Not likely,” he replied. “It may be something altogether different.”</p> - -<p>I knew what was running through his mind, and I more than half agreed -with him.</p> - -<p>The generals passed into a large tent, which must have been that of -Burgoyne himself; but in a minute or two an officer came and took his -way toward our camp. He was a tall, fine fellow, rather young, and -bore himself with much dignity. Of a certainty he had on his finest -uniform, for he was dressed as if for the eye of woman. His epaulets -and his buttons flashed back the sun’s rays, and his coat was a blaze -of scarlet.</p> - -<p>The officer drew the attention of other eyes than Whitestone’s and -mine. In the British camp they seemed to know what he was about, or -guessed it. I could see the people drawing together in groups and -looking at him, and then speaking to each other, which always indicates -great interest. An officer with gray<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> hair whom he passed looked after -him, and then covered his face with his hands.</p> - -<p>The officer came on with a steady and regular step to the earthwork, -where he paused for a moment.</p> - -<p>“It may be,” said Whitestone, “that you and I were the first to see the -beginning of a great event.”</p> - -<p>The officer stepped upon the earthwork, raising a piece of white cloth -in his hand. The fire of the sharpshooters ceased with such suddenness -that my ear, accustomed to the sound, was startled at the lack of it.</p> - -<p>“I think you’ve guessed right,” I said to Whitestone.</p> - -<p>He made no reply, but drew a deep breath at his pipe stem, and then let -the smoke escape in a long white curl.</p> - -<p>Some of the sharpshooters stepped from covert and looked curiously at -the approaching officer.</p> - -<p>“Whitestone,” I said, “since there is no committee of reception, let us -make ourselves one.”</p> - -<p>He took his pipe from his mouth and followed me. The murmur of the -camps, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> sound made by the voices of many men, increased. The -officer came rapidly. Whitestone and I walked very slowly. He saw us, -and, noting my subaltern’s uniform, took me for one dispatched to meet -him.</p> - -<p>When he came very near I saw that his face was frozen into the haughty -expression of a man who wishes to conceal mortification. He said at -once that he wished to see our commander in chief, and without question -Whitestone and I took him to our colonel, who formed his escort to the -tent of our commander in chief. Then we returned to our former place -near the outposts.</p> - -<p>“How long do you think it will take to arrange it?” I asked Whitestone.</p> - -<p>“A day or two, at least,” he said. “The British will talk with as long -a tongue as they can, hoping that Clinton may come yet, and, even if he -don’t, there will be many things to settle.”</p> - -<p>Whitestone was right, as he so often was. The generals soon met to -talk, and we subalterns and soldiers relaxed. The rifles were put to -rest, and I learned how little we hate our enemies sometimes. I saw -one of our <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>sentinels giving tobacco to a British sentinel, and they -were swapping news over a log. Some officers sent in medicines for the -wounded. No longer having fear of bullets, I walked up to the British -outworks and looked over them into the camp. A Hessian sentinel shook -his gun at me and growled something in his throaty tongue. I laughed at -him, and he put his gun back on his shoulder. I strolled on, and some -one hailed me with a familiar voice. It was Albert Van Auken.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Dick!” said he. “Have you folks surrendered yet? How long are -these preliminaries to last?”</p> - -<p>He was looking quite fresh and gay, and, if the truth be told, I was -glad to see him.</p> - -<p>“No,” I replied, “we have not surrendered yet, and we may change our -minds about it.”</p> - -<p>“That would be too bad,” he replied, “after all our trouble—after -defeating you in battle, and then hemming you in so thoroughly as we -have done.”</p> - -<p>“So it would,” I said. “Sit down and talk seriously. Are your mother -and sister well?”</p> - -<p>“Well enough,” he replied, “though badly frightened by your impertinent -cannon balls.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> - -<p>He sat down on a mound of earth thrown up by British spades, and I came -quite close to him. Nobody paid any attention to us.</p> - -<p>“How goes it with Captain Chudleigh?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Poor Chudleigh!” said Albert. “He’s lying in the cellar over there, -with a ball through his shoulder sent by one of your infernal -sharpshooters.”</p> - -<p>“Is it bad?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, very,” he replied. “He may live, or he may die. Kate’s nursing -him.”</p> - -<p>Well, at any rate, I thought, Chudleigh is fortunate in his nurse; -there would have been no such luck for me. But I kept the thought to -myself.</p> - -<p>“Albert,” I asked, “what did your officers say to you when I brought -you back?”</p> - -<p>“Dick,” he replied, “let’s take an oath of secrecy on that point even -from each other.”</p> - -<p>For his part he kept the oath.</p> - -<p>I could not withhold one more gibe.</p> - -<p>“Albert,” I asked, “what do you Tories say now to the capture of an -entire British army by us ragged Continentals?”</p> - -<p>He flushed very red. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You haven’t done it,” he replied. “Clinton will come yet.”</p> - -<p>We talked a little further, and then he went back into his camp.</p> - -<p>The talk of the generals lasted all that day and the next, and was -still of spirit and endurance on the third. We soldiers and subalterns, -having little to do, cultivated the acquaintance of the enemy whom we -had fought so long. Some very lively conversations were carried on -across the earthworks, though, of course, we never went into their -camp, nor did they come into ours.</p> - -<p>On the third day, when I turned away after exchanging some civilities -with a very courteous Englishman, I met a common-looking man whose -uniform was a Continental coat, distressingly ragged and faded, the -remainder of his costume being of gray homespun. He nodded as he passed -me, and strolled very close to the British lines. In fact, he went -so close that he seemed to me to intend going in. Thinking he was an -ignorant fellow who might get into trouble by such an act, I hailed him -and demanded where he was going. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> - -<p>He came back, and laughed in a sheepish way.</p> - -<p>“I thought it was no harm,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I have no doubt you meant none,” I said, “but you must not go into -their camp.”</p> - -<p>He bowed very humbly and walked away. His submission so ready and easy -attracted my notice, for our soldiers were of a somewhat independent -character. I watched him, and noticed that he walked in the swift, -direct manner of a man who knows exactly where he is going. Being a bit -curious, and having nothing else in particular to do, I followed him at -a convenient distance.</p> - -<p>He moved three or four hundred yards around the circle of our camp -until he came to a place beyond sight of that at which I had stood when -I hailed him. The same freedom and ease of communication between the -two armies prevailed there.</p> - -<p>My man sauntered up in the most careless way, looking about him in the -inquisitive fashion of a rustic soldier; but I noted that his general -course, however much it zigzagged, was toward the British. I came up -much closer. He was within a yard of the British lines and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> our men -were giving him no heed. I felt sure that in a few moments more, if no -one interfered, he would be in the British camp. I stepped forward and -called to him.</p> - -<p>He started in a manner that indicated alarm, and, of course, recognized -my face, which he had seen scarce two minutes before. I asked him very -roughly why he was trying so hard to steal into the British camp.</p> - -<p>“It’s true,” he said, “I was trying to go in there, but I have a good -excuse.”</p> - -<p>I demanded his excuse.</p> - -<p>“I have a brother in there, a Tory,” he said, “and I’ve heard that he’s -wounded. Everybody says Burgoyne will surrender in a few hours, and I -thought it no harm to go in and see my brother.”</p> - -<p>What he said seemed reasonable. I could readily understand his anxiety -on his brother’s account. He spoke with such an air of sincerity that I -had no heart to scold him; so I told him not to make the attempt again, -and if the tale that Burgoyne was to surrender in a few hours was true, -he would not have long to wait.</p> - -<p>Yet I had a small suspicion left, and I decided to humor it. If there -was anything wrong<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> about the man he would watch me, I knew, after two -such encounters. I wandered back into our camp as if I had nothing on -my mind, though I did not lose sight of him. Among crowds of soldiers -there I had the advantage of him, for I could see him and he could not -see me.</p> - -<p>He idled about a while, and then began to move around the circle of -our camp inclosing the British camp. I was glad that I had continued -to watch him. Either this man was overwhelmingly anxious about his -brother, or he had mischief in mind. I followed him, taking care that -he should not see me. Thus engaged, I met Whitestone, who told me -something, though I did not stop to hold converse with him about it, -not wishing to lose my man.</p> - -<p>The fellow made a much wider circle than before, and frequently looked -behind him; but he stopped at last and began to approach the British -line. There was nobody, at least from our army, within thirty or forty -yards of him except myself, and by good luck I was able to find some -inequalities of the ground which concealed me.</p> - -<p>A British sentinel was standing in a lazy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> attitude, and my man -approached and hailed him in a friendly manner. The Englishman replied -in the same tone.</p> - -<p>“Can I go in there?” asked the man, pointing to the British camp.</p> - -<p>“You can go in,” replied the sentinel with some humor, “but you can’t -come out again.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want to come out again,” replied the man.</p> - -<p>“You chose a curious time to desert,” said the sentinel with a sneer, -“but it’s none of my business.”</p> - -<p>The man was about to enter, but I stepped forward quickly, drawing -my pistol as I did so. He saw me and raised his hand, as if he too -would draw a weapon, but I had him under the muzzle of my pistol and -threatened to shoot him if he made resistance. Thereupon he played the -part of wisdom and was quiet.</p> - -<p>“I will take care of this deserter,” I said to the English sentinel.</p> - -<p>“I told him it was none of my business, and I tell you the same,” the -sentinel said, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re not fighting now. Only -don’t shoot the poor devil.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> - -<p>“March!” I said to the man, still covering him with my pistol.</p> - -<p>“Where?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“To the little clump of woods yonder,” I said. “I have something to say -to you.”</p> - -<p>The fellow had hard, strong features, and his countenance did not fall.</p> - -<p>He wheeled about and marched toward the wood. I followed close behind, -the pistol in my hand. I had chosen my course with my eyes open. Our -people were not near, and we reached the trees without interruption or -notice. In their shelter the man turned about.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do you want?” he asked in sullen, obstinate tones.</p> - -<p>“Your papers,” I said; “the message you were trying to carry into the -British camp.”</p> - -<p>“I have no papers; I was not trying to carry anything into the British -camp,” he replied, edging a little closer.</p> - -<p>“Keep off!” I said, foreseeing his intent. “If you come an inch nearer -I will put a pistol ball through you. Stand farther away!”</p> - -<p>He stepped back.</p> - -<p>“Now give me that letter, or whatever you have,” I said. “It is useless -to deny that you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> have something. If you don’t give it to me, I will -take you into the camp and have you stripped and searched by the -soldiers. It will be better for you to do as I say.”</p> - -<p>Evidently he believed me, for he thrust his hand inside his waistcoat -and pulled out a crumpled letter, which he handed to me. Keeping one -eye on him I read the letter with the other eye, and found I had not -been deceived in my guess. It was from Sir Henry Clinton to Sir John -Burgoyne, telling him to hold out for certain rescue. Sir Henry said he -was within a short distance of Albany with a strong force, and expected -to join Sir John soon and help him crush all the rebel forces.</p> - -<p>“This is important,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Very,” said the man.</p> - -<p>“It might have changed the fate of the campaign had you reached General -Burgoyne with it,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly it would have done so,” he replied.</p> - -<p>“Well, it wouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>“That is a matter of opinion.”</p> - -<p>“Not at all.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t understand you.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The campaign is ended. Burgoyne surrendered a half hour ago.”</p> - -<p>Which was true, for Whitestone, with his skill in finding out things -before other people, had told me.</p> - -<p>“I’m very sorry,” said the man in tones of sharp disappointment.</p> - -<p>“I’m not,” I said.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean to have done with me?” he asked—“hanging, or -shooting?”</p> - -<p>I did not admire the man, but I respected his courage.</p> - -<p>“Neither,” I replied. “You can’t do any harm now. Be off!”</p> - -<p>He looked surprised, but he thanked me and walked away.</p> - -<p>It was unmilitary, but it has always been approved by my conscience, -for which I alone am responsible.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXII.</span> <span class="smaller">CAPITULATIONS.</span></h2> - -<p>I stood with Whitestone and saw the British lay down their arms, and, -of all the things I saw on that great day, an English officer with the -tears dropping down his face impressed me most.</p> - -<p>We were not allowed to exult over our enemies, nor did we wish it; but -I will not deny that we felt a great and exhilarating triumph. Before -the war these Englishmen had denied to us the possession of courage -and endurance as great as theirs. They had called us the degenerate -descendants of Englishmen, and one of their own generals, who had -served with us in the great French and Indian war, and who should have -known better, had boasted that with five thousand men he could march -from one end of the colonies to the other. Now, more than five thousand -of their picked men were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> laying down their arms to us, and as many -more had fallen, or been taken on their way from Canada to Saratoga.</p> - -<p>I repeat that all these things—the taunts and revilings of the -English, who should have been the last to cheapen us—had caused much -bitterness in our hearts, and I assert again that our exultation, -repressed though it was, had full warrant. Even now I feel this -bitterness sometimes, though I try to restrain it, for the great -English race is still the great English race, chastened and better than -it was then, I hope and believe.</p> - -<p>Remembering all these things, I say that we behaved well on that day, -and our enemies, so long as they told the truth, could find no fault -with us.</p> - -<p>There was a broad meadow down by the riverside, and the British, -company after company, filed into this meadow, laid down their arms, -and then marched, prisoners, into our lines. Our army was not drawn up -that it might look on, yet Whitestone and I stood where we could see.</p> - -<p>Some women, weary and worn by suspense and long watches, came across -the meadow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> but Kate Van Auken was not among them. I guessed that she -was by the side of the wounded Chudleigh. When the last company was -laying down its arms, I slipped away from Whitestone and entered the -British camp.</p> - -<p>I found Chudleigh in a tent, where they had moved him from the cellar -that he might get the fresher air. Kate, her mother, and an English -surgeon were there. The surgeon had just fastened some fresh bandages -over the wound. Chudleigh was stronger and better than I had expected -to find him. He even held out his hand to me with the smile of one who -has met an enemy and respects him.</p> - -<p>“I will be all right soon, Shelby,” he said, “so the doctor tells me, -if you rebels know how to treat a wounded prisoner well.”</p> - -<p>“In a month Captain Chudleigh will be as well as he ever was,” said the -surgeon.</p> - -<p>I was very glad on Kate’s account. Presently she walked out of the -tent, and I followed her.</p> - -<p>“Kate,” I asked, “when will the marriage occur?”</p> - -<p>“What marriage?” she asked very sharply.</p> - -<p>“Yours and Chudleigh’s.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Never!”</p> - -<p>“What!” I exclaimed in surprise. “Are you not going to marry Chudleigh?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Are you not betrothed to him?”</p> - -<p>“No. That was my mother’s plan for me.”</p> - -<p>“Are you not in love with him?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>I was silent a moment.</p> - -<p>“Kate,” I asked, “what does this mean?”</p> - -<p>“Dick,” she said, “I have told you twice what you are.”</p> - -<p>Her cheeks were all roses.</p> - -<p>“Kate,” I said, “love me.”</p> - -<p>“I will not!”</p> - -<p>“Be my betrothed?”</p> - -<p>“I will not!”</p> - -<p>“Marry me?”</p> - -<p>“I will not!”</p> - -<p>Which refusals she made with great emphasis—every one of which she -took back.</p> - -<p>She was a woman.</p> - -<p class="center space-above">THE END.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUN OF SARATOGA ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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