CHAPTER VI

.

THE PRISONER.

When, as nearly as we could guess, an hour passed and nothing had been heard betokening pursuit, we on the sloop were in the best of spirits, for, even though a short time before escape had seemed absolutely impossible, it was certain we had shaken off our captors--as Abraham said triumphantly, we had pulled wool over the eyes of the entire British fleet.

“Now do I hope that Luther Stedman and his big friend were the ones who gave information concernin’ us!” the lad said with a loud laugh, as if it delighted him to hear the sound of his own voice once more. “They counted on jeerin’ at us when we were in the frigate’s prison, an’ now we are the ones who can do the crowin’.”

“Ay, when we shall be actually free,” I added. “Just now the enemy’s fleet lies between us and our friends, and the question is how we are to get past them, for I’m allowin’ that neither you nor Abel count on our cruisin’ ’round at sea, even though we do happen to have provisions for a long voyage.”

“It’s enough for me that we have slipped off so nicely, when it was believed we were as helpless as rats in a trap,” and again Abraham gave himself up to mirth.

“Why not make it a bit more easy for the lobster-back?” I asked, suddenly realizing that our prisoner must be absolutely suffering, bound and gagged as he was.

“Would he do the same for us?” and now Abraham’s expression was one of sternness.

“As to that we need not speculate,” I replied sternly. “When there is no need to cause suffering, he who permits it is much the same as a brute.”

“I reckon Ephraim is in the right,” Abel Grant said decidedly. “We can well afford to ease up on the fellow a bit, so s’posen you take out the gag, Eph? We’ll leave him trussed as he is a spell longer; but it is well to give his jaws a rest.”

I lost no time in acting upon the permission, for it was nothing less since we looked upon Abel as the leader, and when the gag had been removed, I said to the fellow:

“We had to do this, else you would have given an alarm; but we don’t count on puttin’ you to any more pain than is absolutely necessary.”

“I suppose you are well clear of the fleet?” he asked as soon as his jaws were limbered sufficiently to admit of his speaking.

“Ay, there seems to be no doubt as to that.”

“I’d like to know how it was done, an’ there can be no harm in tellin’ that much now.”

“Not a bit of it,” and in a few words I gave him the key to the whole scheme.

“It was a bloomin’ good trick,” he said as if it pleased him to know that we had succeeded. “I’ve heard it said that you Yankees wasn’t overly quick-witted; but if this gang can hoodwink his majesty’s crack officers, I reckon you’ll get along all right. What’s to be done now?”

“That is somethin’ to be decided on later,” I replied with a laugh, and running on deck I put the same question to Abel Grant, who, with the aid of Abraham, was making sail.

Instead of replying, he in turn put a question:

“Is this ’ere sloop a good sea-boat? Meanin’ by that, would you trust her in heavy weather outside?”

“Ay, she’ll stand up where many another craft would be smothered,” I replied proudly, for I had every confidence in the sailorly qualities of the Swiftsure. “But what has that to do with it?”

“How would you like to go back to New York an’ report at headquarters with a prisoner in tow?” he asked with a grin, and, failing of understanding what he was driving at, I said with somewhat of impatience:

“If you’ve somethin’ in mind of moment, don’t beat about the bush like a simple; but when you talk of takin’ prisoners to New York, it’s a waste of time. I’m not minded to make any try at crossin’ Long Island with the lobster-back, for I reckon that’s what you mean. There isn’t a Tory whom we’d meet, an’ you well know how thick they are thereabouts, who wouldn’t raise a hue and cry once it was seen what we were up to. Even as it is, I’m thinkin’ we shall have to say good-bye to the sloop, an’ take the poor chances of followin’ in Sam’s footsteps.”

By this time the little craft had steerage way on, and Abel took the tiller, saying half to himself as he did so, but still wearing the same grin of satisfaction:

“It’s a case of guessin’ at the best; but I’m allowin’ we shan’t go so far astray as to run aground, for unless I’m way out’er my reckonin’, we should be well at sea by this time.” Then he added, looking at me, “So you’ve allowed that we’re called upon to abandon the sloop, an’ take our chances of crossin’ Long Island, where three men out of every four we may come across can surely be counted as enemies, eh?”

“What other course is left? Surely you’re not wild enough to think we stand any chance of gettin’ past the whole British fleet without bein’ captured?”

“Not a bit of it, lad,” and now he grinned in a manner that provoked me sorely. “I don’t allow there’s the man livin’ who could put this ’ere sloop past all them Britishers without bein’ overhauled, an’ I’m dead certain we couldn’t do it, for by this time, if so be the bloomin’ lobster-backs have found out we’re missin’, every man jack of ’em is watchin’ for us. The way we gave ’em the slip is well calculated to rile all hands quite considerable.”

“Then why did you ask such foolish questions?” and now I spoke sharply.

“Because I ain’t willin’ to say that in order to get back to New York we have got to go up through the Narrows. There is such a thing as a sailin’ clean around Long Island, ain’t there? It would make quite a cruise, I’ll admit; but, ’cordin’ to the way I look at the thing, it’s a long bit ahead of stickin’ our noses where we know we can’t get through, an’ I’ll allow we’d have pretty nigh as much trouble in crossin’ the island on foot, as in tryin’ to sail up the bay.”

I could have kicked myself with a right good will for not having realized before that there was a way out of our difficulties. It had been so strongly impressed on my mind that we were entirely cut off from our friends, that there was no room for any other thought; but now Abel Grant had made the suggestion, I could see clearly how it might be done, at the expense of time, and was ready to shout for very joy until there came to me a remembrance of Sam.

If so be he succeeded in making his report at headquarters, we knew full well from what the lad had said that he would at once retrace his steps with the idea of joining us, and by thus shaping the course for Montauk Point, we would be in a certain sense deserting him. I said as much to Abel, and it appeared that he was prepared for some such objection, for he replied promptly:

“Well, an’ supposin’ we make up our minds that we won’t desert him? That we’ll hang ’round here waitin’ for him, what then? Have you got any keen idea as to what will happen when this fog lifts, if so be we’re nosin’ round Long Island?”

“The Britishers will pick us up in a twinklin’,” I said bitterly.

“Ay, so they will, an’ how much better off would Sam be if we were in the hands of the enemy? The whole amount of the story, as I look at it, is that we must put him out of our reckonin’ entirely, an’ a right good job it will be so far as he’s concerned. Allow that he got into New York safe, which ain’t any sure thing, there’s big chances agin his gettin’ back to Long Island, an’ even if he succeeds, it may be a week before he shows up. This ’ere business, Ephraim Lyttle, is war, an’ however fast comrades we may be with a fellow, his safety must not stand in the way of our duty.”

He would have been a simple who did not realize the force of Abel Grant’s reasoning, and without spending very much time in thought I understood that, so far as our movements were concerned, it must be as if Sam had never had an existence. We were bound to get back among our friends, if possible, and to do other than had been suggested was, to my mind, the same as voluntarily going aboard one of the British ships as prisoners.

“It will be a big thing,” I said half to myself, “if we show up at home with a prisoner, an’ as soon as the fog lifts I’m allowin’ we had better make an attempt.”

“We are making it now, lad,” Abel said with another grin; but this time it did not irritate me, and Abraham laughed aloud in glee because I had not understood that we were already on the voyage before my opinion was asked. “I’m headin’ her by guesswork along the line of the island, an’ that’s as nigh as any man could come to it in this smother, however good a navigator he might be. It’s a case of trustin’ to luck, with the only chance agin us that we may make more to the eastward than is needed.”

A grand scheme it was, this of Abel Grant’s, and I pictured to myself the credit which we would gain, if, after having been captured by the frigate, we showed our heels, and in addition brought away the man who had been set as guard over us.

Well, we had our time of crowing then, even though the fact had not been accomplished, and so enjoyed ourselves with such counting of our chickens before they were hatched, that all thought of any immediate danger from the Britishers faded from my mind.

Abel Grant counted it as positive that none of the enemy’s ships would be moving while the fog was so dense; therefore our chances of coming upon one while it was hove to, or at anchor, was mighty slim, and such a mishap it should be possible for us to avoid.

If the wind held favorable the cruise would not be an exceeding long one, and, so far as I could make out, the greatest risk we ran was in failing to arrive in time to be of service, for surely after such a force had assembled in the lower bay there could be no question but that the Britishers intended to give speedy battle.

We discussed the situation in all its bearings as the Swiftsure plowed her way through the fog, and over a sea that, save for the long swell, was comparatively smooth, and then it occurred to Abraham that it was high time we had breakfast.

“You an’ I will have to be cooks, Eph, now that Sam’s gone, for the admiral can’t be spared from the helm, so let’s get about the job.”

We went below to overhaul the stores once more, and there, as a matter of course, saw our prisoner, who must have suffered not a little because of the inability to change his position ever so little, owing to the ropes with which he was completely swaddled.

“I could not help hearin’ what you said, lads, but don’t fancy any harm’s done because I played the part of listener. You’ll do the trick all right, I’m thinkin’, an’ although it ain’t in any ways pleasant for me, I can’t help lookin’ at it as a neat turn. Do you count on my stayin’ here trussed up like a chicken ready for the roastin’, all the while?”

I had not before thought of that part of the plan. We might be a full week in making the voyage, and surely the lobster-back, unless he turned rusty, would be suffering more than was needed.

“I am wonderin’ whether my comrades would be willin’ to allow you the freedom of the ship, if you take a solemn oath not to try to get away,” I said as much for the marine’s benefit as for Abe’s, for I wanted to see how he took the suggestion.

“Well, I’m countin’ myself a prisoner of war, so you can’t make anythin’ more out of me, an’ as such, fair treatment is my due. Now since there’s no way for me to better my position, why shouldn’t I do as many a better a man has before me, and surrender, lock, stock an’ barrel.”

“What do you say, Abe?” I asked of my comrade, who was apparently still deeply intent on overhauling the stores.

“We surely can’t keep him trussed up as he is all the while we are runnin’ ’round Long Island, an’ with his word for it, seein’ that we are three to one in case he tries to make trouble, I believe in actin’ half-way decent. Ask Abel what he thinks about it?”

“I have been hearin’ all that tongue-waggin’,” the man at the helm cried in a jovial tone, “an’ reckon you can do no better than cast the lobster-back loose, after he has given his solemn word to behave himself ’cordin’ to our ideas.”

“I solemnly swear to raise no hand in my own behalf in case you are overhauled by the British forces, and to make no attempt whatsoever at escaping until after you shall have delivered me into the hands of your people,” the man said gravely, and in a tone which convinced me he firmly intended to keep his word; but Abe, not being quite satisfied with the form of the parole, added:

“To boil it down, you mean that you’ll swear to stick by us as if you was a comrade until we strike New York, an’ have parted at headquarters, or wheresoever we may be ordered to leave you?”

“I swear it,” the man replied, whereupon I began loosening his bonds, and that the poor fellow had suffered not a little by being thus held in one position so long, could be seen when it became absolutely necessary for him to chafe his limbs vigorously before it was possible to use them.

Having thus formerly surrendered himself as a prisoner of war, the lobster-back proved to be a very companionable fellow, and before he had been at liberty an hour I found myself wondering how so decent, so cheery, and so seemingly friendly a man could have had it in his heart to take part in depriving the American colonists of their rights or their lives.

It was while Abe and I were making ready a sumptuous meal, I slicing the salt pork while Abraham was frying ship’s biscuit, that I put into words for the Britisher’s benefit, the thoughts which had been in my mind, and it was after this fashion that he made answer:

“I did not enlist to deprive any man of his rights, an’, once enlisted, it did not come within my line of duty to question whether the king was

## actin’ justly or unjustly. The English Government has said that you

colonists must do certain things, an’ you’ve allowed that you won’t; it’s what you might call a family quarrel, an’ we who are servin’ his majesty haven’t any personal feelin’ in the matter, more than a constable might have who was called in by a father to check a row between children.”

“Are you meaning to say that the king stands to us of the colonies like a father?” Abraham asked with no little heat, and the Britisher replied with a laugh:

“I don’t see how else you can put it. It wasn’t so long ago when all hands of you were English, an’ lookin’ to England for whatsoever was needed. Now a difference of opinion has come up. Of course you claim to be in the right, an’ I allow the king is claimin’ the same thing; however, you won’t give him credit for anythin’ except tryin’ to grind you down. So far as the outcome of this ’ere trouble is concerned, I don’t care a farthin’ either way; but I’m puttin’ it to you, lads, that if you’d taken the king’s shillin’ an’ sworn to serve him, whether you wouldn’t do so accordin’ to the best of your abilities? We of the rank and file are doin’ just the same as you lads would, in case there was a riot in New York, let us say, an’ the officers of your army told you to turn to an’ help put down the rioters. Wouldn’t you do it? Of course you would, unless you were blasted duffers. You see, it is altogether owing to which side you’re on, that puts a different color to the business. Just now I’m a prisoner of war, an’ can’t for the life of me see why we shouldn’t be just as chummy, until my parole has come to an end, as if there’d never been any trouble betwixt the king and the colonists.”

“You seem to be a pretty decent sort of a fellow,” came the voice of the “admiral,” “an’ I’m allowin’ you’ve put the thing pretty near right, though of course we are lookin’ on you as an enemy. Come out here an’ let’s you an’ I have a blow-off over this ’ere question, to see if I can persuade you to turn ’round an’ be honest once more.”

The man went into the cockpit laughing, and I heard him say when he got there:

“An’ what chance would me and my mates have in tryin’ to talk you into turnin’ against them as you have sworn to obey?”

“Mighty little, an’ that’s a fact,” Abel Grant replied.

“Then don’t think I’m pig-headed if you can’t twist me around your finger.”

I looked out into the cockpit and saw the Britisher filling Abel’s pipe for him, the two behaving toward each other as if they had long been cronies, and, calling Abraham’s attention to the scene, I said, regretting that it might not be:

“If we could come at all the lobster-backs whom the king has sent over here, in the same manner we have our prisoner, there wouldn’t be much of a war, I’m thinkin’.”

“Ay, in that you are right, Eph, for if we came at ’em in the same manner they’d all have been our prisoners, consequently, there wouldn’t be anybody left to fight against us. It strikes me, however, that just now instead of talking politics, you an’ I had better get this grub cooked, for if Abel and the lobster-back are as hungry as I am, they’ll soon be after us with a sharp stick for sogering.”

I wish I might be able to go into all the details of that voyage which lasted throughout five full days, setting down accurately all we said and did while hob-nobbing with the lobster-back, for that was really what we did do. The fellow showed himself to be so companionable, and with such a fund of good nature, that however brutal we may have wanted to treat him, it would have been impossible.

He was more like a friend than an enemy, and seemingly as eager for the success of our venture as if his whole heart was bound up in the Cause.

“Why should I feel otherwise,” he said one day, when I taxed him with disloyalty to the king in thus being eager for our success. “Accordin’ to the way I look at it, being a prisoner of war on parole, I’m neither fish, flesh nor fowl, an’ being deprived by my oath of doin’ that which is my duty, why isn’t it natural I’d like to see three plucky fellows, who have done an amazin’ good turn, as I look at it, succeed in their venture?”

“But if we failed you would regain your liberty,” Abel suggested, and the Britisher replied with a laugh:

“Perhaps I am not so eager at goin’ back to duty on board ship when I am comfortably fixed here, an’ with jolly companions.”

And indeed the lobster-back gave every evidence of having spoken the truth, for if ever a man enjoyed himself he was that one, taking his trick at the wheel, or, when not engaged in some odd job about the sloop, lying at full length on the cockpit floor, smoking, or getting an extra “forty winks” in the cuddy.

“By the time this ’ere craft makes Bowlin’ Green in New York, I allow he’ll be so near a Yankee as to go runnin’ ’round Long Island huntin’ for a piece of land that can be bought cheap, so’s to go to farmin’,” Abel Grant said laughingly, and perhaps at this point I should say that the Britisher had given his name as “Seth Hartley.”

“But in case of bein’ overhauled before we get there, perhaps I have come so near makin’ Tories out of you that all hands will be throwin’ up their hats shoutin’ for the king,” the prisoner replied, and there was hardly an hour in the day when he and Abel Grant did not exchange some such remarks as these.

During the first eight and forty hours after taking leave of the frigate without going through any very formal ceremony, the fog enveloped everything so completely that we never had a glimpse of the land, although often hearing the roar of the breakers on the shore, nor, as a matter of course, did we sight a vessel.

It was on the morning of the third day out that we got a shock which was much like receiving a bucket full of cold water suddenly on one’s bare flesh, for then, as the fog thinned, not more than half a mile to the eastward was an armed vessel flying British colors, and Seth Hartley set her down as a transport lately come from Boston. The wind was light; the Swiftsure was making hardly more than two miles an hour, and if so be the officers of the stranger desired to overhaul us, it would only have been necessary to send out a boat with no more than two pairs of oars, when we would have been at their mercy.

“I’m thinkin’ she’ll want to know who you are,” the prisoner said thoughtfully, as if surveying the craft, and I, watching him intently, could not see any show of joy in his face at the idea that his friends might soon be our captors.

“If so be she’s come from Boston, I’m allowin’ we can tell a decently good yarn,” Abel Grant said as if in reply; but the expression of anxiety on his face told that he was far from being as confident as his words would imply.

“If we claim to be fishermen, they might insist on taking us aboard to act as pilots,” Abraham suggested, and our prisoner added:

“I’m thinkin’ if you get into trouble through her, that’s about the way the trick will be done, unless she’s one of the fleet which has put out in search for you, which I much misdoubt.”

Then we fell silent, every man jack of us, including Seth Hartley, watching intently the ship which appeared to be hardly moving through the water, and it soon became apparent to all that unless the wind strengthened speedily, we would be carried by the current well within hail of the Britisher.

“I’m thinkin’ we shall have to do a bit of tongue-waggin’ in this ’ere case whether he wants a pilot or not,” Abel Grant said apprehensively, and then added quickly to the prisoner, who had discarded his military coat and stock because of the heat, “Perhaps you had better get into the cuddy, Seth, an’ lay low, for if any aboard that ship should happen to get a bit of your cockney speech, they’d allow you was a deserter, an’ you couldn’t persuade ’em we’d picked you out of the king’s fleet as a prisoner.”

“I’m thinkin’ you wouldn’t spend overly much time tryin’ to do that,” the Britisher said with a laugh, and then went obediently below.

Half an hour later we were so near the ship as to hear distinctly the hail which came from her, and when Abel replied to it with his lazy drawl, the question was asked:

“Where do you hail from?”

“Montauk Point.”

“Do you know the water about Sandy Hook?”

“Nothing more than that there’s plenty of it. We wouldn’t be up the coast so far if it hadn’t been for losin’ our way in the fog.”

“Have you got any fresh fish aboard?”

“One of the king’s vessels took from us all the clams we had for bait, and we was makin’ our way back to port when we got mixed in with this smother.”

I was literally trembling with apprehension lest the next words should be an order for us to come alongside and show ourselves, therefore was the disappointment a happy one when he who had hailed us turned squarely about and resumed his pacing of the quarter-deck, as if thinking us not of sufficient consequence to spend any more time with.

We were too near the British vessel to give words to the joy which was ours at escaping thus easily, and during the half-hour we were forced to remain within hail no conversation was indulged in, lest we should let slip inadvertently some word which might excite the curiosity of the enemy.

Before nightfall we rounded Montauk Point; every trace of the fog had disappeared, and we had the wind abeam, with plenty of it for a run up the sound, which, as can well be imagined, was much to our liking.

The marine had come out of the cabin long since, and we four laughed and chatted gleefully, even the prisoner seeming to be overjoyed because now was the time when it seemed positive we should make New York without hindrance unless, peradventure, the British fleet had anchored directly off the city.

The cruise was not to be ended so soon, however, although we came to learn that all danger, save it might be from Tories, had been passed. The wind flattened down into a dead calm before midnight, and it was not until the afternoon of the fifth day that we came within sight of that town we so ardently desired to reach.

“We will be off Bowlin’ Green within two hours after sunset,” Abel Grant announced confidently, and then, turning to our prisoner, he asked abruptly, “Well, Seth, what do you allow? That you’ll go into prison?”

“Well, I shouldn’t do it from choice; but do you see any other road out of it, seein’s how I’ve been lawfully taken a prize?”

“There’s only this way that I can figure, an’ I’ve done a heap of thinkin’ on the matter since you showed yourself to be a right decent kind of a man--the first decent one I have ever heard tell of who wore a red coat.”

“It’s what the man’s got inside of him, not that which he has on his back, that makes or mars him,” our prisoner said seriously; “but what is it you have figured out concernin’ me?”

“Well, I don’t know how it may strike you; but I am wantin’ that you believe I am doin’ it in the way of bein’ friendly,” Abel Grant said, speaking slowly, and now I understood that that which was to follow would be of considerable importance. “If so be you didn’t give back your parole, you’d kind’er feel it your duty to hang to the oath you took, eh?”

“My parole was only to last until you delivered me to the officers of the American Army?”

“Ay, that’s as we understand it. Now, supposin’ we didn’t deliver you? Wouldn’t the oath you took hold?”

Seth looked puzzled, and even I who had an inkling of what our “admiral” was driving at, failed to understand, seeing which he continued:

“This ’ere gang that you’ve fallen in with, countin’ another that we’ve spoken of, meanin’ Sam, are a full regiment an’ a fleet, with this ’ere sloop as the only ship. Now I ain’t tryin’ to bring you ’round to our way of thinkin’; but I’ve got an idee from words you’ve let drop now an’ then, that you ain’t overly keen on fightin’ us. If that should be the case, I’m wonderin’ why you couldn’t stay right here on the sloop with me, for I ain’t enlisted to do shore duty, an’ then we’d always have a prisoner to fall back on when we got to feelin’ savage agin anythin’, an’ wanted to kick somebody.”

“Meanin’ that you’d have me stay here willingly?”

“Nothin’ of the kind. I’m just askin’ how it would strike you if we didn’t put an end to your parole, bindin’ you to hold your tongue as to what you might have seen and heard while in our company, if it so be your friends should re-capture you? You’re not to be asked to fight for the colonies against George III; but to kind’er loaf ’round as a general deck-hand, farin’ as we fare, an’ bein’ the same decent kind of a fellow that we’ve known these five days.”

Abraham and I had come to know Seth Hartley so well that neither of us felt the slightest hesitation in endorsing this proposition of Abel Grant’s, although I had many misgivings as to what Lieutenant Winterbottom might say, if he knew that we had as comrade aboard the sloop a British marine whom we had captured.

However, this last part of it did not trouble me very deeply; I believed we would be doing nothing wrong against the Cause if we should keep him with us as a comrade, and surely the king’s forces in America would be lessened by one man, which might not be any great loss to his majesty, and yet every arm in the struggle such as was seemingly before us of the colonies, counted.

Perhaps if Seth Hartley had been eager to accept the offer made, and had said without hesitation that he would be glad to do as we proposed, I might at a future time have had doubts regarding his loyalty to us; but as it was he hung in the wind, apparently considering the matter from every point, and finally said:

“I’ll give you my answer before we come to anchor; but whether I take up with the offer or not, I want you to understand that I’m thankin’ you for it. It’s an honor you’ve done me, an’ I’m proud to know you believe I’d deal honestly by all hands, whatever turned up. Of course, seein’ I’m a prisoner, the bargain is all in my favor, but I’m not considerin’ that for a minute.”

##