CHAPTER XI

AT BARREN HILL

I am not of a mind to dwell very long on this night chase, although to me it was most exciting; but if I should attempt to set down all I thought or said to myself while the Britishers were so close in the rear and firing a shot now and then, verily do I believe I might never come to an end of my story.

During the first half-hour, mayhap, the lobster-backs held the pace fairly well; but at the end of that time I understood they were falling behind, and it was no fancy of mine, although again and again I said to myself that I must be mistaken owing to the darkness.

Finally, when it seemed to me I had ridden a full six hours, although it could not have been one-third that time, they disappeared from view in the distance; but whether I had so far outstripped them, or because of their having turned back, I could not say.

However, I was not disposed to take any chances on the matter, but continued to keep my horse well in hand, although I slackened the pace to a slow trot that he might have opportunity to regain his breath, and all the while listened intently for any token that those whom I had distanced were inclined to continue yet further in the chase.

When another ten minutes had passed we were come to a small brook, and I was sufficiently bold to make a halt there, stopping long enough to give the faithful beast a few mouthfuls of water. Then, remounting, I set off at a fairly good pace once more; but came to a halt very suddenly within the next quarter of an hour, for I heard the footfalls of horses in the distance ahead of me.

While one might have counted twenty I remained in painful suspense, fearing the enemy had already started for Barren Hill and I was coming upon some messengers who had been sent back to Philadelphia.

I might have known full well, however, that if I left the city before the soldiers set off, then there were none ahead of me, for there were few horses in the town that could have traveled faster than the one I bestrode.

During a few seconds I hesitated, questioning whether it would not be better to strike across through the shrubbery, rather than take the chances of meeting whosoever was riding toward me.

Then came the realization that any who were approaching from that direction must of necessity be friends, and I held the road until coming within sight of two mounted men who were riding at a reasonably rapid pace straight toward me.

As a matter of course they pulled up on finding that I held the middle of the road, and one of them asked sharply:

“Who have we here? Who comes from the direction of Philadelphia? Be you friend to the colonies, or the king?”

“My name is Richard Salter; my mother that widow who keeps a lodging house in Drinker’s Alley, and if there be in this country a friend to the colonies, then am I he, for within the past two or three days have I taken my life in my hands, as you might say, in order to do somewhat of good for the Cause.”

“It is plainly evident that you have a very good idea of your importance and of your abilities,” one of the horsemen said with a laugh which nettled me sorely, and I might have made some reply that would not have been to my credit, but for the second stranger, who said in a somewhat friendly tone:

“Perhaps it would be better, young master, if you told us why you are coming from Philadelphia at such an hour.”

“I am riding to General Lafayette at Barren Hill.”

“How knew you General Lafayette was at Barren Hill?” the man asked sharply, now reining his horse in to my side and grasping the bridle as if he fancied I might make some effort to escape.

Whereupon I replied, speaking curtly, because I was by no means pleased with his tone and manner:

“I had it from some British officers at the carnival which was held in Master Wharton’s country house. Through the Weaver of Germantown were I and my comrades able to appear there as servants that we might pick up whatsoever of information was to be gained.”

“The Weaver of Germantown!” the first horseman exclaimed, as if right well pleased to hear that I had had aught to do with that man. “And you learned that General Lafayette had gone to Barren Hill?”

“Ay, not only that; but I heard the plans discussed for making an attack upon him within the next four and twenty hours. Already, most like, are three divisions of troops leaving Philadelphia, one of them led by Sir Henry Clinton. Lord Howe is so positive he will take General Lafayette prisoner ’twixt now and another sunset, that he has invited his friends to sup with him when the Frenchman shall be in his possession and on exhibition, as you might say.”

“And you heard all this important matter at the carnival?” the second horseman asked as if doubting that I could have learned so much in so public a place, and I replied, not a little nettled because they seemingly questioned my word:

“As one of the attendants, I was waiting upon three officers who were drinking more than was well for them, and the matter was discussed without any attempt at privacy. They most likely believed I was only a servant who would understand nothing whatsoever of military matters, even when they spoke plainly.”

“And having heard this, what then?” the first rider cried, as if impatient to get at the end of my story.

“Then came the alarm at the outposts, when it seemed certain the Americans were attacking the city, and we lads had opportunity to go where we knew it would be possible to find the Weaver of Germantown; but he had it in mind that we might be needing him, therefore met us on the way. Whereupon we took advantage of the opportunity to release two of our comrades who were in the work-house as prisoners. Straightway that was done, he sent each of us by a different road to get the information which I had learned, to General Lafayette. I fancy I am ahead of them all, having had the good fortune to come upon this horse which was hitched in front of Master Wharton’s house, where his owner, most like, was paying court to some of the lady guests who yet remained there.”

Surely these men showed themselves to be inquisitive, for even now when I had told all my story, they questioned me yet further, as if every little detail was of the greatest importance, and I chafing all the while at the delay, because I believed every moment would be precious to General Lafayette.

Therefore it was, when they asked concerning matters which it appeared to me had no connection with the Cause, or what might be done at once nearabout Barren Hill, I said sharply:

“If you have learned all you desire, gentlemen, allow me to ride on, for it seems that duty requires I should have speech with General Lafayette immediately.”

“And so you should, my lad,” one of the men replied, speaking heartily and in a most friendly tone. “We had no right to detain you so long, although I fancy that because of your having made so quick a journey, we shall arrive in ample time.”

“_We_ shall arrive,” I repeated, whereupon he said, and I fancied that he smiled:

“Ay, lad, for it is our intent to go with you, else might there be a long delay in your gaining speech with the General. We had been sent on matters of little importance to New Jersey; but that which you tell us seems to make it appear as if our services are needed here more than there.”

Having said this the speaker wheeled his horse around sharply, and started off at a smart pace, I following him and understanding from the sounds which came that the second horseman was close in my rear.

Now it was that these strangers whom I had overtaken no longer gave any evidence of inquisitiveness. It seemed as if they had finally begun to understand how necessary it was we reach General Lafayette with the least delay, and never a word was spoken as we three, riding at racing speed now that the horses had had time to breathe, continued on until the faint ray of light in the eastern sky told that the day when General Howe counted to vanquish and capture General Lafayette was dawning.

Then, suddenly, the stranger who was riding in advance pulled up quickly, and I saw that one of our soldiers barred the way, while near at hand I fancied it was possible to see just within the thicket half a dozen more, therefore did I know we were come to the American outposts.

The horseman spoke a few words to the sentinel, and again pressed on, I following his example as a matter of course, and holding my eyes wide open for any token of our people.

It was not necessary that I watch very closely. Even though the numbers of the “rebels” were small, they were exceeding active, and, after having passed this outpost, we came upon squads or companies of men moving hither and thither as if some important movement was about to be executed.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask of one or the other of these men whom I had met, what might be afoot; but they gave me no opportunity.

Each appeared eager to arrive at headquarters, and when we were come there verily was I amazed, for this French officer who had come overseas to aid us in fighting the king, was quartered in what appeared to be a little better than a hut.

It was, as I saw when the day was fully come, a small, rude farm-house, and as we came upon it just in the grey of dawn, sentries were pacing sleepily to and fro, while from the general air of those whom we saw, it was positive the Frenchman was not borrowing any very grave trouble concerning what the Britishers might do.

Considerable talk on the part of the two men who had come with me, was necessary before those sleepy sentinels, who had probably been awakened by our coming, would permit us to enter the building, and when we did pass inside, entering a room which had been the kitchen of the farm-house wherein stood a table on which were remnants of a meal and with military accoutrements strewn everywhere, I looked in vain for the commander.

We stood there in silence mayhap two minutes, I gazing in wonderment at each of the strangers, who I now saw wore the American uniform, and they remaining motionless as if by no means surprised because we were thus left to ourselves.

Then the door of the inner room opened, and there came into this kitchen, little more than half-clad and looking very sleepy, a young man, who to me was hardly more than a boy. He was well dressed, unusually so, as it seemed to me, and I was familiar with the richness of the lobster-backs’ costumes, while there was on his face an expression of annoyance because of having been aroused from his slumbers.

I liked the looks of this young fellow. It was pleasant to see his face, even though there were traces of vexation upon it. But my heart sank within me when I realized that this was the French officer on whom we had laid so many plans, believing him to be a great soldier, and verily he was no more, as you might say, than Jeremy Hapgood or myself.

So young was he in appearance, that I could not believe he had had overly much experience in the art of warfare, and, like the simple I was, said it to myself that if this was the General Lafayette from whom our people expected so much, then might they expect in vain, or as well look to Jeremy or me for something brilliant in the way of military manœuvres.

I had ample time in which to chew the matter over and thus foolishly discuss with myself the appearance of this young soldier, for straightway he entered the room the two horsemen who had come with me went close to him, and the three talked in whispers while one might have counted sixty, I standing by like a goose who rests her body first on one leg and then on the other without knowing exactly what to do.

Then it was that the young officer said to me, speaking in English, but pronouncing his words in such fashion that one could readily understand he was not familiar with the language:

“It is true, young man, what you heard regarding General Howe’s intentions while you were playing the part of a servant?”

He said this as if asking a question, therefore I fancied for the instant that he counted on trying to make me prove the truth of the information I had brought; but managed to pull myself together sufficiently to answer him in proper fashion, and then it was that he began questioning.

If the two horsemen had shown themselves inquisitive a short time before, verily was he outstripping them now, for there was no detail concerning the carnival, the movements of our own people in Philadelphia, or the bearing of the lobster-backs, that he did not question me upon; and it seemed as if I stood there a full hour, answering what was of no consequence, so I argued.

Having gratified his curiosity, or learned that which was necessary for him to know, he took my hand in his in the most friendly fashion, and while I cannot well repeat the words he spoke, because of his queer manner of speaking, thereby causing them to sound differently from the spirit in which I understood he intended, he caused my cheeks to flush red because of the words of praise, and wound up by promising that if it should be at some future time in his power to reward me for the service I had done, then would he take advantage of it.

As a matter of course I understood that I was dismissed when he ceased speaking, and walked out of the building, hardly knowing what to do until the man who was standing sentinel directly in front of the door, and who must have understood I had come with news of importance, suggested that I go near where the officers’ horses were being fed, because there could be had provender for the beast that had carried me so gallantly.

This I did, as can well be supposed, and I was rubbing the horse’s legs with whisps of grass to refresh him, for I counted on holding possession of the animal so long as I might, when I was interrupted by no less a person than the Weaver of Germantown himself, who said with a smile as he came up to me:

“Ah, now I understand how it chanced that you were so much in advance of me. I also rode after having walked as far as Germantown, but had not the good fortune to get so good a beast as that. Where did you find him?”

“At Master Wharton’s country house, where his owner had left him while he went in to tell the ladies, most like, that they need have no fear the miserable rebels would do them harm. It appears to me, Master Weaver, that you came reasonably fast, for I rode at racing speed and have not been here an hour.”

“You came by a longer course, Richard Salter, and it is well you did, for those two gentlemen whom you turned back on the road, were friends of mine whom I most desire to have with this portion of the army if so be the Britishers make an attack.”

“Then you have seen them already?” I asked in surprise, and the Weaver of Germantown told me he had just left General Lafayette’s headquarters, where he had learned from the Frenchman himself what service I had done.

“And the Britishers?” I asked. “Do you know if they came out of Philadelphia according to the information I gained at the carnival?”

“Ay, lad, and are well-nigh ready to begin operations. One of our people came in a few moments ago with the word that a considerable force was at Chestnut Hill, and I myself know that Grant’s troops are halted at the forks of the road leading to Barren Hill and Matson’s Ford. There is every reason to believe that General Gray, with at least two thousand men, is at the ford within three miles of here this very moment. We are much the same as surrounded.”

“And General Lafayette must, of course, surrender, unless he can turn tail and get back to Valley Forge,” I said, thus showing how little I knew of the mettle of our people who had passed the winter amid so much of suffering.

“I’ll venture to say he won’t surrender, lad,” the Weaver of Germantown replied grimly, “although I must confess that he is in what you might well call a tight box. His only way of escape is by Matson’s Ford, and the approach to that is held by at least five thousand Britishers under General Grant.”

“And what will happen?” I asked as a feeling of timorousness came over me, causing, I am afraid, my face to grow pale.

“It is for General Lafayette to answer that question, and you will get reply before nightfall if you watch the movements of the men,” the Weaver of Germantown said in what I fancied was a tone of sadness, whereupon I was such a simple as to exclaim:

“If it remains with that lad to get these men out of the trap into which they seem to have walked with open eyes, then am I afraid their chances are few, for he knows no more of warfare than does Jeremy Hapgood.”

“Unless I am much mistaken, Richard Salter, within the next four and twenty hours you will have every reason to change your opinion regarding the French officer. The Britishers are certain to find in him a real soldier, according to all I have heard, and it will surprise me much if this day’s doings are not greatly to his credit.”

Just at that moment one of the soldiers came up to the Weaver of Germantown, and whispered a few words in his ear, whereupon both went hurriedly away, leaving me to wonder who this man might be who thus kept secret his name, as you might say; and I speculated not a little as to what position he occupied with our American army.

It appeared to me as if he was anxious to conceal his identity under this fanciful name of the Weaver of Germantown, and I believed I already had good proof that he was of more importance, or of higher rank, if you please, than that of a spy, for since we arrived at the encampment I noted that all those who came in contact with him showed no little respect in their bearing.

However, I was not left long alone to speculate upon any matter, for within five minutes after the man who called himself a spy had left, I was not only delighted, but decidedly surprised, to see Jeremy Hapgood engaged in what seemed much like an altercation with one of the sentries.

Straightway I understood what had happened. The lad had succeeded in gaining Barren Hill in an exceedingly short time, if so be he came on foot, and now was he doing that which I would have been forced to do but for having met the two officers on the road--trying to show that he had fair right to enter the encampment.

I hurried forward to where the sentry stood barring the way, and fortunately for Jeremy Hapgood, the soldier had not only seen me when I entered in company with the two horsemen, but had afterwards seemingly taken especial note of the fact that I appeared to be on intimate terms with the Weaver of Germantown.

Therefore it was that the man listened favourably to me when I explained that Jeremy was one of the party who had been sent out from Philadelphia to give warning of what the lobster-backs were about, and although it might not have been according to military usage or law, the sentinel allowed my comrade to pass him without referring the matter to a superior officer.

It goes without saying that Jeremy was decidedly surprised at finding me at Barren Hill, having the appearance of one who had been long there, and before he would answer a single question which I was striving to put, the lad insisted on knowing how it was I had succeeded in making my way so rapidly.

In order to make certain of hearing his story within a reasonable length of time, it became necessary for me to go into details regarding all that I had done since we parted, and Jeremy was as delighted as a baby with a new toy, when I explained how it had been possible for me to get possession of a horse.

Not until I had come to the very end of my story, omitting none of the details, did the lad tell me what had happened to him since we last saw each other. Although he had not met with much of adventure, verily had he exerted himself twenty times more than I, for throughout the entire night he had traveled, walking at times in order to regain his breath, but running the greater portion of the distance; hiding in the thicket whenever he heard anyone advancing toward him, and taking such chances as I had not been called upon to take because of being mounted.

Verily Jeremy Hapgood had done more for the Cause than I on this night, and I was ashamed when he had come to the end of his simple story, because I made so many words of that which, as compared with what he had done, amounted really to nothing.

While we stood there within a stone’s throw of General Lafayette’s quarters, talking about what we had done since leaving Philadelphia, there was no little stir in the encampment. It was not necessary we lads should understand overly much of military matters in order to know that some important movement was near at hand, and, considering the news we had brought, it was not difficult for us to understand that General Lafayette was making preparation to meet the enemy; but whether to give them battle, or retreat, we could not determine.

Shortly after the men had had rations served out to them, we lads not sharing in the distribution of the food owing to the fact that we were not members of the army, the Weaver of Germantown came to where Jeremy and I were sitting on the ground, and said in a low tone:

“This portion of the army will begin to move very speedily. It is for you lads to join it, unless peradventure you are willing to take the chances of being captured by the lobster-backs. You have General Lafayette’s permission to ride with his staff, and I advise you to make ready for the start without delay. The movement about to be executed will be rapid, and he who lingers ever so little stands a good chance of being left behind.”

All this was somewhat of a puzzle to me, and I would have called after the man, urging that he explain his meaning; but Jeremy Hapgood clutched me by the coat-sleeve as he said in a low tone:

“Verily, Richard, this is no time for overly many words, and I am of the belief that the Weaver of Germantown would not explain to you the meaning of all he has said, no matter how you might implore him. If we are to follow the general’s staff, let us make ready to do so, and not bother our heads further.”

“But it is not for us to leave this place until our comrades have arrived,” I exclaimed petulantly.

It came to my mind that after what I had just done for the Cause, I was entitled to more consideration than would have been shown an ordinary lad, and, such a simple was I, that it seemed as if some special provision should have been made for the safety of my comrades and myself.

“Here come Tim Bowers and Sam Elder,” Jeremy suddenly cried, and, looking up, I saw the two lads both astride a woebegone looking horse, riding toward the encampment at full speed.

Understanding that they might have trouble passing the sentinel, I went forward, beckoning Jeremy to follow me.

Singularly enough, no one paid any attention to them, which fact was owing, I suppose, to the general excitement on every hand, and the forming of the men into columns for marching.

“How does it chance that you and Timothy are together?” Jeremy cried, while our lads were yet some distance away striving to force the old horse into a faster gait.

“We met just in advance of General Grant’s column,” Sam replied laughingly as if it were a great joke. “He was coming on one road and I the other, when the troops appeared so close at our heels that we made a sudden break into the thicket, running into each other’s arms, causing both of us, for the moment, no little alarm.”

“Did you see or hear anything of young Chris?” I asked as the lads dismounted and turned their weary steed free.

“It seems reasonably certain he has been taken prisoner,” Sam Elder replied gravely. “You may fancy how near we were to the advance of the lobster-backs, when while skulking in the thicket we could hear the men talking with each other, and there was dropped now and then a word concerning a boy who had been taken while evidently trying to carry information to the Americans. Therefore Tim and I have decided young Chris has been captured.”

“We also heard somewhat concerning a Tory lad who had had a hand in the matter,” Timothy Bowers added, “and while Sam won’t agree with me, I am of the opinion that Skinny Baker played a part in young Chris’s downfall.”

“But how could Skinny Baker have known anything concerning young Chris’s movements?” I cried, not inclined to put any faith in what Tim had suggested. “That Tory cur, in order to have had any idea of Chris’s whereabouts, must have known that all of us were at the carnival--meaning those who were not then in the work-house,” I added laughingly. “If the miserable coward had had any such information, you may set it down as a fact that we would never have been allowed to leave Master Wharton’s house.”

“But suppose Skinny knew we were there as servants, and suppose he counted on bringing about our arrest? The pretended attack by the Americans knocked the miserable cur’s plans awry, and how about it then?” Tim asked as if he had settled the matter definitely.

I realized at once that all this guessing might be exceedingly near the truth, understanding that Skinny Baker would make as great display of his power, if so be there was chance for him to have us taken as spies, as the lobster-backs would permit.

It was well within reason that he might have counted to wait until a late hour, or, possibly, he had not gotten at the ear of any British officers in time to make the arrest before the alarm was given that our people were attacking the outposts.

From that moment he might have been in pursuit of us, and we, by going to the work-house, had thrown him off the track.

It was not impossible, or improbable, that, having lost track of us during the excitement of the supposed attack, he roamed around until coming accidentally upon young Chris, and had been able to find enough of lobster-backs near at hand who would aid him in making the capture.

At all events, we knew full well that a coward like Skinny Baker would not have tackled young Chris alone, and were firmly convinced that our comrade had been made prisoner.

But there the matter must rest for the time being, since we were powerless even to learn where he might be confined, and although we had known all the particulars, how were we to do anything whatsoever at a time when the lobster-backs had, as it seemed, so nearly surrounded Barren Hill that all the army under General Lafayette’s command must be taken prisoners?

We had little opportunity for further conversation. It was just at the moment when we had decided young Chris was in the power of Skinny Baker’s friends, that the Weaver of Germantown came up hurriedly, and said in a tone very much like that of command:

“Get you ready, lads. If so be you can follow the general’s staff on foot, then am I believing all will go well so far as you are concerned.”

He had no sooner said this than he seemingly noted for the first time that Tim and Sam had come in; but beyond greeting them in friendly fashion, he paid no further attention to the lads.

“There is no time for you boys to loiter here; see to it that you follow the general’s staff,” he repeated once more, and then walked away, leaving me undecided as to what I should do.

With the horse which I had taken from Master Wharton’s grounds I could readily keep pace with the officers who made up the general’s staff; but surely four of us might not ride upon one beast, and I hesitated, for the moment almost inclined to say I would take advantage of the opportunity, leaving them to follow as best they might.

Then it came upon me that such a course would be cowardly, if nothing more, and with a sigh I decided to leave the horse where he was tethered, allowing whosoever might first chance upon the beast to take him as a prize.

“We will all walk,” I said, as if there had never been the slightest doubt in my mind regarding the matter. “It is true I have a horse, and you lads also an imitation of one; but verily you had better be on foot than trust yourselves to the back of that bunch of bones; therefore we will take even chances.”

Then I led the way toward where I saw the group of officers, mounted.