CHAPTER XIII

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NEWS OF ABEL.

When Seth Hartley proposed that we set off in search of Abel Grant in the sloop, holding together as a company rather than sending out one or two in search of the missing man, the idea struck us very favorably, because at the moment, so great was our sorrow and so grave our forebodings, the very peril of the enterprise recommended it.

As we sat there silent and thoughtful, however, each member of the little party seemingly desirous of viewing the matter in every possible light, it was much as if the entire scheme had changed in color.

It was easy enough while we lay at anchor within an hundred feet of the shore, to say that we would sail down past the British fleet in the night; but to do it was quite another matter, and this we understood more clearly the longer we speculated upon it.

Seth Hartley had spoken as if believing we could make the venture more readily because the enemy’s vessels had come up near to Governor’s Island; but as I pondered over the matter it seemed to me that the danger was increased thereby. We would most likely find the war vessels in a cluster close by the town, and if peradventure we were able to pass them, then would lie in our path all the transports and store-ships, any one of which must have on board two or three guns at the very least, the smallest of which would be sufficient to sink us offhand.

It did not seem to me possible we could make the passage, because the enemy would be on the alert, and our sloop was not so small but that she would attract sufficient attention to result in her being overhauled. It was not probable the Britishers would allow any craft to sail through their fleet without knowing exactly where she was bound and what her purpose, therefore would we be stopped, so I figured, even if they failed of recognizing us as the sloop which had escaped from the frigate, and this last seemed more than possible.

Luther Stedman and his friend had given information concerning us when their desire for revenge was slighter than after we had taken one of them a prisoner for the second time. Luther had then spent considerable time and labor to bring us to grief, and how much more earnestly would he have worked to accomplish it again. As I figured it, he had taken especial pains to spread information concerning us throughout all the fleet, and the proof that he would strain every effort was shown in his attack upon us while we lay off the ferry stairs.

Then again, suppose we should succeed in what seemed well nigh like the impossible, and get into the lower bay, what could that effect?

Abel Grant had landed near our homes on the Wallabout, and if captured, as appeared to be the fact, it must have been in that vicinity, therefore to get any trace of him we would be forced to go entirely across the island, taking all the chances of running upon the Tories, who by this time must be swarming there like angry bees.

The longer I thought of Seth Hartley’s plan the more impossible of execution did it appear to be, and I looked around upon my comrades to learn if their courage remained unshaken.

I fancied it was possible to see an expression of growing distrust on Abraham’s face while he was apparently studying the situation, and I asked with a laugh which had in it more of nervousness than mirth:

“Well, Abe, what say you to runnin’ the gauntlet of the fleet in the Swiftsure, an’ afterward, if so be the little craft remains afloat, go up across the island, which by this time must be literally crowded with Tories and red-coats?”

“It may not easily be done,” he said thoughtfully. “To look forward it seems impossible, an’ yet I would not dwell upon the chances we must take, but rather as to which would be the more honest, so far as duty to our comrade is concerned. Whether we are to lay here in safety, leavin’ him to his fate, or, takin’ our lives in our hands, do what little we may toward aidin’ him? I am not eager to give up my life, an’ this is not a matter in which the Cause can be benefited by our death. Yet does it seem to me that we must make an effort, if so be no other plan presents itself, rather than reproach ourselves durin’ all the remainder of our days, which havin’ been too cowardly to raise a hand in behalf of one who would have given up everythin’ to help us.”

Abel spoke so seriously that it was as if he had been reading a sermon, and I was awed by his tone as well as by the words.

It seemed to me as if he had left us no opportunity for discussion; but so set it down that it had become our solemn duty, regardless of all danger, and once more I fell silent.

It appeared very much as if Sam and Seth Hartley had been impressed in the same way as had I, for we remained there idle, each busied with his own thoughts, until the noon was near at hand. Then, as if having forgotten some duty, Sam leaped suddenly to his feet, hauling in on the cable as if time was precious, and Abe asked curiously what he was about.

“I’m pullin’ the sloop so far in that I can wade ashore, for a wettin’ is necessary in order to land.”

“Where are you goin’?”

“To get a skiff, since that must be done before we can set off. You are not minded that we shall sail into the lower bay without means of landin’ save by runnin’ the sloop ashore?”

This was sufficient proof that Sam believed there was no other course left us to pursue save that of carrying out Seth Hartley’s plan, and because I was growing so nervous that action of any kind was preferable to idleness, I lent a hand until the bow of the sloop grated on the sand, when Sam started for the shore. He gained it at no other expense than a partial wetting, which on a day so warm was not to be reckoned as a disaster, and then, at a rapid pace, set off in the direction of Master Dyker’s dock.

Now that it seemed as if we were fully committed to the venture our tongues were loosened, and while he was absent we speculated upon that which was to be done as if it was no more than an ordinary incident, instead of a hazard upon which our lives were staked, with the odds in favor of their being lost.

It was not possible to map out any real plan of action, for we must go it blindly, trusting to the chapter of accidents, and hoping fortune would favor; but we all decided upon standing straight across to the Jersey shore, hugging close under the guns of our batteries until coming to the North river, and then keeping so far as might be under the lee of the land, if the wind permitted, until it became necessary to strike across from Staten Island.

Sam came back with the skiff after having remained absent mayhap an hour, and as he rowed toward us Abraham asked cheerily, with never a tremor of the voice to tell of the desperate venture he had in mind:

“Was Master Dyker willin’ to lend a skiff, knowin’ that the chances were against her bein’ returned?”

“Ay, that he was not,” Sam said with a laugh. “I argued with him and his son in vain, an’ then dared them to raise a hand toward stoppin’ me when I took that boat which seemed most nearly fitted to our purpose.”

“Did they make any attempt to stop you?”

“I didn’t give ’em a chance, for two to one were greater odds than I cared to have against me, therefore, takin’ advantage of the opportunity when Master Dyker turned his back in anger, I pulled away.”

“But that is neither more nor less than stealin’, Sam Garratt!” I cried.

“Ay, figure it that way if you will; but it was stealin’ to prevent a friend from bein’ murdered, for such is the danger in which Abel Grant stands if so be the Tories have him in their power.”

This was an argument which could not be answered, and I remained silent while Sam came alongside, made the skiff fast, and went into the cuddy. He came out a moment later with the musket in his hands, and Abe asked laughingly:

“Are you thinkin’ the Britishers may make an attack?”

“I am of the mind that Master Dyker will come for his skiff, an’ it is not my intention to let him have her. He has ever claimed to be a good Whig, but now that the enemy is so near at hand an’ evidently about to take possession of the town, it looks much as if there was a Tory love creepin’ into his heart. If I am wrong, he should cheerfully give his skiff to the Cause; if my suspicions are correct, I will hold her because we cannot carry out the plan proposed by Seth without a small boat.”

I know not why, but Sam’s resolute bearing heartened me wondrously; the idea of his taking forcible possession of Master Dyker’s property in order that we might set about the work of rescue, and allowing to hold her at the muzzle of a musket, sent a fellow’s blood tingling through his veins, and I almost forgot what awaited us once we set off.

Master Dyker did not come, however, perhaps because he was ashamed of himself for having refused to lend a well nigh worthless skiff for such a purpose, and again, perhaps, because he suspected what might be the result if he tried to take her from us.

How the remainder of that day passed I cannot well say; but the hours dragged as if they would never come to an end, and there were times when I could have sworn the sun stood still in the heavens. We were not inclined for conversation; there was nothing with which to occupy our hands, save we were minded to cook dinner, and under the circumstances our stomachs revolted at the thought of food.

We moped in the cockpit and in the cuddy like a lot of sick chickens, and when finally the night shut in, bringing a gusty wind with scurrying clouds which told of thunder showers, we were more relieved in mind than I can well describe.

“It seems that we are to have it our way at the start,” Seth Hartley said as he stood well forward peering into the gathering gloom in the direction of Governor’s Island. “If the makin’s of this night had been left to ourselves, we could not have cut out a better one for the purpose. I’m thinkin’ that a cruise down through the fleet will be quick an’ easy with all the wind the sloop can stand up under.”

It would have been a relief to all of us if we could have set off at that moment, for the suspense of waiting was far more trying than the danger of the venture; but yet we know without speculating upon it, that it would not be well to come upon the fleet in the early evening, unless peradventure there were signs that the threatening clouds might be dispersed, and Seth Hartley voiced the opinion of all when he said in the tone of one who asks a question:

“I’m thinkin’ it will be wiser for us to make a start nearabout midnight, if so be there is no change in the weather, an’ with this wind the run from here to whatsoever part of the island you count on landin’, will be a short one.”

“I see no reason why we should not strike the shore at the first point where it may be done,” Abe said thoughtfully. “If we could get into Gowanus cove we might sail up the creek a long distance, an’ thus save us much foot travel.”

“Ay, an’ the chances are that the king’s ships will be nearabout us,” Sam suggested, and Seth Hartley replied grimly:

“No more in one place than another, an’ if you who know the island believe it were better for us to make up the creek, then accordin’ to my mind there is no more danger in that venture than any other. Therefore let us decide before startin’ that we will put in at the place you have named.”

The evening passed yet more slowly than had the day; but we gathered a little hope each moment because the threatening clouds, instead of dispersing, were gathering more thickly, and the wind came now and then in such volume as told that before daybreak the craft which ventured out of the harbor would do so under close-reefed canvas.

Even though we had known our venture was certain to end in death, I believe of a verity we would still have felt a certain sense of relief when the moment came for putting the plan into execution, because it was as if each moment we remained there at anchor the suspense became greater.

It was not necessary any one give the word for the beginning of the voyage. When, as nearly as we could judge, it lacked no more than an hour of midnight, Seth Hartley rose to his feet, for we had all been sitting in the cockpit, and as he did so we followed his example, each one doing that which was necessary for getting the sloop under way without a word having been spoken.

It was not a night on which any one would venture out save of necessity. There was a reasonably heavy sea in the inner harbor, giving token of what would be found in more open water, and the fitful wind tore at the canvas when we loosened it, as if with giant hands. Under ordinary conditions two of us could readily have made sail; but on this night all hands were needed before we had the mainsail hoisted with a single reef.

I went to the helm because no one else offered to do so, and the Swiftsure darted on like a mad thing when we were come where the full weight of the wind could be had, sending the spray masthead-high, and snoring into it like a line-of-battle-ship.

No person hailed us from the shore even when we were passing the batteries where I had fancied we might be called upon to give an account of ourselves, and as we stretched across for the Jersey shore, opening up the water to the westward of Governor’s Island, it was as if all that portion of the bay was studded thickly with points of light, telling of the British fleet. One would have said that it would be impossible to thread our way among them in the darkness, without coming afoul of one craft or another.

If nothing had depended upon my seamanship, that is to say, had we been out simply for our own pleasure, or on ordinary business, with little of importance depending upon the outcome, I should not have distrusted my ability to handle the sloop, although the weather was what could truly have been called nasty. But with the lives of all our party depending upon the skill and ready wit which might be shown, I trembled for myself, fearing through some blunder my comrades would come to grief.

“There’s one thing about it,” Abe said as he clawed his way aft while the Swiftsure danced like a cork upon the heavy swell, “we cannot well heave to, no matter how many of the king’s officers so command, an’ it will be a case of the English sailors showin’ what they can do with oars, if the lobster-backs count on boardin’ us.”

“It would be well if all hands stood on the lookout, for with so much spray comin’ aboard I’m not havin’ the best chance to see what course to steer,” I said, not minded to discuss the possibilities just then.

“Sam and Seth Hartley are in the bow, an’ I came aft to trim ship, for she was too much by the head with all three forward. There’s one thing certain, we can’t make Gowanus cove without tackin’, an’ that’s likely to be a nice job with so many vessels in the way.”

“It’s more likely we’ll be overhauled before gettin’ that far,” I replied, hoping to still his tongue by reminding him of the peril, for conversing when a fellow feels irritable and nervous is not pleasing.

The sloop dashed on as if eager to come upon the enemy. It seemed to me that we had never seen her show one-half the speed she did on this night when we were bearing down upon the king’s fleet, and while I would not have checked the pace, yet were we moving too swiftly for comfort, although one having more courage than I, might say that the quicker the danger was encountered the better, since it saved a disagreeable time of suspense.

I believed less than half an hour had elapsed from the time we weighed anchor, before we were running under the quarter of the frigate which lay nearest the Jersey shore, and those on board may have hailed us a dozen times without our being aware of the fact, so great was the noise made by the wind and the water; but when we were come directly astern, within half a musket-shot, I should say, some one cried out from the quarter-deck.

“They must be lubbers not to understand that we can’t come about here,” Abe said angrily, and I replied with a laugh, for courage was returning as the danger grew thicker:

“It makes no difference what they think, we’re bound to keep movin’ now, or throw the mast out of her. If those lobster-backs count on stoppin’ her, it’s time they got their firearms ready, else we shall be out of range.”

It was as if we had no more than passed this ship when we were close aboard of another, and this time when the wind brought the faintest echo of some sentinel’s voice, a tiny flash of flame followed, telling that whosoever was on duty had discharged his musket. But no report was heard for the wind would have swallowed up even the roar of a cannon, and as for the missile, it went out to sea, very like.

I had no time to think of what the Britishers might do. It required all my skill and strength to avoid the numerous craft in the way, and even when from one ship, after we had passed to windward of her, there came a crackling of musketry which told that the fellow had fired point blank at us, I had no time to give heed to it. It was enough that we were not harmed.

The wind was increasing momentarily, and growing more spiteful all the while. The sloop pitched and plunged as if she had been in the open sea, staggering under the weight of canvas that was more than I would have believed she could have carried, had I given heed to the matter.

Common prudence should have dictated our reefing close down; but we had no time to think of it.

It was a case of carrying all and taking the chances, and this we did in good and plenty during the hour when we threaded our way in and out among the ships, sometimes hearing the reports of the weapons as the guard fired in token for us to heave to; again seeing only the flashing of the muskets, until I came to understand that the many ships at anchor which had seemed to me would prove so dangerous, was in reality our safety, for they were anchored so near together that had a heavy gun been fired at us the chances were more in favor of damage being done to one of the consorts.

“They do not dare to pitch a heavy shot at us!” Abe said gleefully as he clung to the rail lest he be washed overboard, for the volume of water which came across our decks threatened each instant to swamp the little sloop.

[Illustration: “‘THEY DO NOT DARE TO PITCH A HEAVY SHOT AT US!’”]

It was as if that fever which is said to come upon one during the excitement of battle had taken possession of me, for I lost all consciousness of self, and seemed to be only a portion of the gallant little craft which was struggling so desperately and valiantly to bear us safely past our enemies. I felt her leap beneath me as I clutched with all my strength at the tiller to hold her on the proper course, and there were times when I may have cried aloud in triumph because of the brave effort which she was making.

That sloop which we had built from keel to masthead was to me on this night a living thing, and I would have sworn she was conscious of what depended upon her.

I wish it were possible for me to set down a description of that mad sail in such words that he who reads would be able to see it as I felt it. I believe of a verity that we were fired upon by the sentries of every second vessel in all that fleet, and yet never once did I hear a missile strike us. We stood up and across twice before making the mouth of the cove, therefore passed some of the ships three times, so that their guards had ample opportunity to make ready for us; but the little Swiftsure danced about so lively that, in the darkness, they might as well have tried to hit one of the stars.

Just as we entered the mouth of the cove the thunder clouds broke, and the water seemingly came down in solid sheets, while the wind roared as if a hurricane was raging. It was the wildest storm I ever saw, and the small boat that was exposed to its fury must have foundered in a twinkling.

While we were tacking to make the cove Abraham said to me, forced to scream in my ear otherwise I could not have heard the words:

“When we get into the cove it will be a question of takin’ to our heels, leavin’ the sloop to her fate, for the Britishers will put after us, knowin’ we are in a trap.”

I felt firmly convinced that such would be the case, and said to myself that to abandon the Swiftsure after she had borne us so bravely, was much like turning one’s back on a comrade; but when the storm burst I knew beyond a peradventure that the British would do no boat-chasing until we had had time to look after our craft.

As we glided into the comparatively still water of the cove Sam came aft jubilantly happy, saying as he danced in the cockpit regardless of the torrents of water which were like to have drowned him:

“It was mighty lucky for us that the ships were anchored so near together! Seth said they wouldn’t dare to fire anythin’ larger than a musket ball; but there were times when I held my breath, expectin’ to see the flash of a big gun.”

“They haven’t got a gunner aboard the fleet who could have hit this sloop while she was stormin’ along at such a rate!” Abraham cried triumphantly. “Here I’ve spent nearly the whole day dreadin’ the venture of runnin’ through the fleet, an’ yet it has been done, because we own the best boat in the colony, as easy as rollin’ off a log!”

“It isn’t well to crow very much just yet,” I replied, feeling not a little irritated to hear him speak as if all the danger was passed. “We are here in the cove where the Britishers can take us when they get good an’ ready.”

“But we’re not countin’ on stayin’ many minutes.”

“Ay, but then they can work their will on the sloop, an’ after what she has done this night, I feel toward her as one does toward a comrade who has stood at his back in a hot fight. Then, when we have left her to the lobster-backs, we must face both Tories an’ Britishers, who are coverin’ the land as did the locusts at the time of the plague.”

“Starboard! Starboard unless you’re minded to plump into a mud-bank!” Seth Hartley cried from his station in the bow, and I put a stopper on my tongue lest at the very moment when it seemed that we had escaped, I come to grief by running ashore.

Well, in order to shorten what promises to be an overly long story, I will content myself by saying only that we ran the full length of the creek, when we were come to a thicket on both banks, amid the foliage of which the gallant little sloop would be partially screened from view, and then we made ready for the tramp, counting that we could not afford to wait until the storm cleared away, for while it was raging we might advance with some assurance of being undisturbed.

We lingered only long enough to furl the wet canvas and stop it so far that the wind could not blow it about. Then we stuffed into our pockets and the bosoms of our shirts as much of provisions as could be carried without inconvenience, and Abraham burdened himself with the musket and ammunition, although I argued that we would be better off without any weapon, rather than only one among four.

“I’ll take my chances with one, instead of goin’ empty-handed because all can’t be equipped,” he said grimly. “I don’t count on bein’ made prisoner by either Britisher or Tory if a stout fight will prevent.”

“Better a live dog than a dead lion,” Seth Hartley said with a grimace. “If we come upon enemies, an’ you see I’m countin’ the English as much my foes as yours, it will be in considerable body, an’ it’s better to submit, in the hope of escapin’ later, than lose a life.”

In this I fully agreed with Seth, but it could be plainly seen that Sam and Abe feared imprisonment on board a British ship more than they did death.

There was no indication that the storm was about to abate, when we stepped from the rail of the sloop to the shore. The rain was coming down literally in sheets, and even though we had not been drenched before making the cove, our garments would have been saturated within three minutes after we came out of the cuddy.

It had already been decided that if we succeeded in passing through the fleet our efforts should be bent on gaining the shore of Wallabout, for only in that vicinity could we hope to get any tidings of Abel Grant.

As a matter of course I was familiar with the country hereabout, but Abe claimed sufficient knowledge to make his way through the swamp, for, as every one knows, the land bordering the creek is marshy, therefore he took the lead, we following in single file, never raising our voices above a whisper after leaving the sloop.

Again did it seem as if our fears during the day just passed were all in the way of alarm that was like to come during the venture, for we plodded straight along through the rain without hearing or seeing any sign of an enemy, and a good hour before daybreak were come to the shanty in which lived Peter Snyder, an old man who had ever been friendly to the Cause and us Whigs.

He had no family; two cats were his only companions, and some of the island gossipers declared he was a witch, giving as proof the fact that he seldom went out fishing without taking the animals with him.

So far as could be told in the darkness and the storm, Peter had remained undisturbed while the Britishers were over-running the land, and Sam said to me as we crept cautiously up to the hut:

“It seems that we were born in the woods to be scared by an owl. The idea that we have spent twenty hours or more shakin’ in our boots because of the dangers to be encountered, an’ have come thus far as safely as if there was never a Britisher or Tory in the world, is something of which to be ashamed.”

“Don’t begin to crow too soon,” I cautioned again, and then Abe, with his mouth close to the crack of the door, called Peter by name.

The old man could not have been a heavy sleeper, for in considerably less than five minutes he had admitted us and learned why we were come at such an hour.

“You had best go back, if so be you can,” Peter said in a sorrowful tone. “This island is no place for Whigs, though I’m not thinkin’ of runnin’ away ’cause I’m not of enough account to tempt an attack.”

“But we have come to find some trace of Abel Grant, an’ don’t count on turnin’ tail till the work has been done,” I said stoutly, for I felt very brave just then.

“Then there is nothin’ here to keep you, for it’s too late to help Abel,” the old man said mournfully, as he began using flint and steel in order to throw a spark on the tinder, that he might light the wick which floated in a gourd of oil.

“Too late! Is he dead?” Sam cried sharply, and Peter, still striving to catch a spark, replied:

“It’s worse than that, lad, as I look at it. I was within sight of Abel when Luther Stedman pointed him out to a squad of red-coats, an’ they made short work of it. Abel was talkin’ with that cousin of his who married the Tory Simson, never dreamin’ of danger any more than did I, when who should show up but Luther with a backin’ of Britishers.”

“What did they do with him?” I asked breathlessly.

“Marched the poor fellow off after shacklin’ his hands behind him, an’ if ever a man got a dressin’ down, it was Luther when Abel’s cousin broke loose on him for what he’d done.”

“But that didn’t mend matters!” Abraham cried impatiently. “Tell us what became of Abel!”

“He was marched off, as I’ve said, an’ this mornin’ his cousin told me that Luther was ’round braggin’ ’bout his havin’ been put aboard a ship that’s lyin’ in Gravesend bay. She ain’t what they call a vessel of war,” the old man continued as he succeeded in lighting the wick, thereby bringing to life a flame so feeble that it did little more than show how dark it was. “Some of the folks say she’s been moored there to serve as prison ship for the Whigs that were taken durin’ the battle, an’ I’ve heard there are crowds of our people held by the king’s troops.”

Surely it seemed to me that we had risked our lives uselessly, for if Abel was really imprisoned on one of the British ships, the only hope of his release lay in General Washington’s being able to whip the enemy offhand, and that, from what I had seen in New York, could not be dreamed of even by the staunchest Whig that ever drew breath.

“Where is Gravesend bay?” Seth Hartley asked after we four had stood staring at each other a full minute while old Pete set about building a fire as if to cook breakfast for us.

But few words were needed to give the information desired, and then Sam said impatiently:

“No good can come of our standin’ here idle. Shall we try to hunt out our friends on Wallabout?”

“There’s little use of lookin’ there for Whigs, lad,” old Peter said sorrowfully. “I’m the only one left on the island, so far as I can make out; all save the Tories took to their heels when it was known that General Washington counted on beatin’ a retreat.”

“Do you know where my people went?” I asked eagerly.

“No; but it stands to reason they’re on the New York side somewhere. Tell me, can our army hold the town?”

Before I could answer the question Seth Hartley said sharply, as if something had suddenly angered him:

“This is no place for you, lads. If you count on goin’ to Gravesend, you should make the best speed now while it rains so hard that your enemies will likely keep under cover.”

“Count on goin’ to Gravesend?” I repeated. “What could we do there?”

“Make a try at freein’ Abel Grant! Surely you don’t reckon on holdin’ back now when you know how sorely he’s needin’ you!”

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