Jacob was on the point of saying that there could be nothing wrong in aiding one's country, but, fortunately for Seth, he realized in time that Lord Gordon considered the Americans rebels, rather than patriots, and to him anything of the kind would not seem praiseworthy.
"Can't you help him, sir?" Enoch asked imploringly, understanding that nothing could be gained by discussing the matter.
"I am afraid my influence is not sufficient to effect anything while the charge is so serious. There is but one punishment for spies, and it is seldom crimes of that kind are pardoned."
"Then must poor Seth be hanged?"
"I shall do what I can to help him, my lad, of that you may be certain. Possibly we may be able to have a lighter charge brought against him, and to that end I will work. His mother must know he is in prison, but need not be told he is there as a spy. Disagreeable though the task will be, I take it upon myself to acquaint her with some of the reasons for his absence, and also promise to do all in my power to save his life."
"If General Howe will let him off with a flogging, Jacob and I are willing to come up for our share of the punishment as the price of setting Seth free."
"That is a generous offer, Enoch, whether it be a fair one or not. Meet me at the City Tavern to-morrow forenoon at ten o'clock, and I will then let you know what can be done." Both the boys would have thanked the kindly Englishman for the interest he displayed in their comrade, but that he checked their grateful words by saying hurriedly:
"It is exceedingly bad taste to have a scene on the street, boys, therefore we will say no moreabout it to-day. Perhaps when I see you to-morrow there will be no occasion to thank me, for I really have but little influence with General Howe. Don't show yourself to Mrs. Graydon to-night, for she would soon learn the sad news from the expression on your faces, and, unless it is absolutely necessary, I do not propose that the worthy lady shall know in what sore distress her son is, through his own recklessness."
Then Lord Gordon walked rapidly away, allowing the boys no time to make a reply, and although he had not given them very much encouragement, both felt decidedly relieved because of the interview.
"If he can't help Seth there isn't a Britisher in this city who can," Jacob said with emphasis. "He's the only one I know of who'd even take the trouble to talk with a couple of boys."
"But what are we to do now? I don't feel as if I could go home while poor Seth is in prison, and most likely thinking every minute of the scaffold."
"We can't do him any good by walking around the streets, and I don't want to go out to Germantown, because I might not be able to get back in time to meet Lord Gordon. Suppose I sleep at your mother's house to-night?"
"I'll be glad to have you, and she will make no question. Are we to tell her?"
"I think we shall be obliged to. It may be we can do something to help Seth, and she must know why you are absent from the house, in case it so happens we want to be away."
If Enoch had feared his mother would reproach him for having taken even a passive part in what might lead to Seth's death, he was mistaken. She spoke only of her sympathy for Mrs. Graydon, and the hope that Lord Gordon would aid the unfortunate boy in some way.
"If I was in Seth's place, mother, should you blame me for having tried to aid the cause?"
"No, my son. You are old enough to know your own mind, and should be at liberty to do that which you think right."
"Then you would make no question if I wanted to enlist?"
"That is for you to decide, my boy. Your mother's heart would be very near breaking if you were killed; but her sorrow could be no greater than is borne uncomplainingly by many mothers in this country where brave men are struggling for freedom."
Never had Enoch appreciated his mother's love as he did at this moment, and when he and Jacob bade her good-night both boys kissed her with unusual tenderness.
Fully an hour before the time appointed Jacob and Enoch were at the rendezvous waiting for Lord Gordon.
Many times that morning had they heard comments made upon Seth's arrest, and the opinion of all was to the effect that he would suffer the fate of a spy, whether he was really guilty or not.
"The appearances are against him," a gentlemanfriend of Enoch's mother said when the story had been told him in the hope he might aid the prisoner in some way. "Those who made the capture say they saw him escorted to the bank of the creek by a squad of Continental troopers, and that he appeared to be on the most friendly terms with them. That is sufficient to prove him a spy, and I question if there is in this city a single person, with the exception of General Howe himself, who could serve him."
Both the boys heard this remark, and were no longer hopeful regarding Lord Gordon's ability to save their comrade, however much he might desire to do so.
The officer was punctual to the appointment he had made, and at once invited them into the coffee-room of the tavern, saying as he did so:
"It is not well we should stand on the street where all may see us, for it may be important that I should not appear to be on friendly terms with you."
When they were where a conversation could be conducted with some degree of privacy the boys waited for their companion to speak, but he remained silent, as if in deep thought, until Enoch asked timidly:
"Will it be possible for your lordship to help poor Seth?"
"I am not certain, my lad, although I hope so. The case is far more serious than I deemed possible yesterday. I believe the story you told; but youcould not persuade others it is true, and I have no doubt but that he will be found guilty."
"Does his mother know?" Enoch whispered.
"I thought it best to tell her at least a portion of the story, for she would have heard it from the gossips before this time. I have not concealed from her the fact that he is in a most serious position; but at the same time have allowed the good woman to believe I could effect his release."
"And now you do not think that will be possible?"
Instead of replying to this question Lord Gordon asked suddenly:
"How far would you two boys go in trying to release your comrade?"
"We are ready to take any chances," Jacob replied firmly.
"Does that mean you would imperil your lives in the effort to save his?"
The boys looked at each other in something very like alarm, for Lord Gordon's tone was exceedingly grave, and then Enoch replied in a voice which trembled despite all his efforts to render it steady:
"I am willing and ready to do anything, no matter what, to help Seth."
"So am I," Jacob added emphatically.
While one might have counted twenty Lord Gordon remained silent, looking like a man who is uncertain as to what he ought to do, and then he said quietly:
"Then meet me opposite the town-house at halfan hour before midnight. It is only by desperate measures that his life can be saved, and I am ready to aid you in so far as I can without dishonor. It will not be well for us to be seen together, neither are you to visit Mrs. Graydon. Be at the rendezvous promptly, and Seth shall be free by sunrise, or there will no longer remain any hope of aiding him."
Without giving them an opportunity to question him, Lord Gordon walked out of the building, leaving them gazing questioningly into each other's eyes.
The boys were so thoroughly surprised by Lord Gordon's making an appointment with them as hardly to be conscious of what they did immediately after he left the room.
They sat motionless as if in bewilderment, each fancying he had an inkling of his lordship's intentions, and not daring to believe that which was in his mind.
Both must have remained in this condition of stupefaction many moments, for finally one of the attendants came up, tapped Jacob more energetically than politely on the shoulder, and intimated that if he did not wish to be served with anything he could spend his time quite as profitably, so far as the management of the tavern was concerned, in some other place.
Master Ludwick, understanding that he had the right to be in the hostelry, because of having been introduced by one of the landlord's best patrons, and angry at being treated as if he was not a desirable guest, said sharply:
"We are here because Lord Gordon invited us toenter with him, and we shall stay until it seems best to go."
The servant muttered something which was probably intended as an apology, and made no further attempt to drive the boys from the coffee-room; but Enoch did not feel altogether at ease after this incident.
"Let us go, Jacob," he whispered. "As the servant said, this is no place for us, and, besides, we cannot be as private here as I would like while speaking of Lord Gordon's intentions."
"I should have gone before but for that impudent fellow, and now we have stayed so long that it cannot be said we ran away because of his words, I am ready. Where shall we go?"
"Anywhere, so we can be alone."
"To your house?"
"No. If I do not mistake Lord Gordon, there is serious work before us this night, and I would rather not be where mother could question me."
"Why?"
"Because I should betray that which is in my mind when she first began to talk, and if I am correct in putting a meaning on his lordship's words, it is better that no one save ourselves knows what is to be done, lest by the knowing they could be considered as in some way guilty of our acts."
By this time the boys were on the sidewalk in the midst of a group of idle officers and civilians who were commenting upon the news of the day, and the major of the Forty-second Highlanders, who waswell known to both Jacob and Enoch because of the fact that he boarded at Seth's home, was speaking sufficiently loud for them to hear his remark as they passed.
"According to the report of the lieutenant of the Rangers, there can be no question but that the little rascal has been in communication with the American forces for a long while, and it is not difficult now to understand how information of our movements reached the rebel officers. Among ourselves at the boarding-house we have talked freely, little thinking a boy, hardly more than fifteen years of age, was playing the spy; but his career will shortly be ended."
"When will he be court-martialed?" the major's companion asked.
"To-morrow afternoon, and probably hanged on the following morning."
"Then you have no doubt as to the result?"
"There can be no doubt, my dear sir. The evidence is so conclusive against him that I see no loophole of escape. All I regret is that he has been allowed to ply his trade as spy so long and so advantageously."
"Come away, Jacob," Enoch whispered, clutching his comrade nervously by the coat-sleeve. "It is fortunate for poor Seth that all the Britishers are not as hard-hearted as the major."
"We should stay long enough to convince him he is telling that which is not true," Master Ludwick replied stoutly; but at the same time obeying thepressure of his friend's hand by moving away from the group.
"It would be difficult to persuade him he was speaking that which is false. You remember Lord Gordon told us he was probably the only person in the British army who would believe our statement in face of the proof against poor Seth."
"Lord Gordon is a man, even though he is a Britisher."
"And I hope the time will come when I can do him as great a service as he is willing to do Seth."
Enoch gave words to this desire simply as a mode of expressing his admiration for the kindly-hearted officer who would forget a quarrel of nations to aid a widow and the fatherless. He little dreamed that before many weeks had passed he would be in a position to do Lord Gordon quite as great a service as that gentleman was evidently about to do for Seth.
The two boys continued on up High Street to Sixth, and then through Walnut to the long shed adjoining the State-house yard, where the Indians who came into town on business were accustomed to take shelter, and there they halted for a consultation, or, rather, to settle in their own minds what his lordship meant when he appointed an interview at midnight near the pillory.
"He despairs of trying to aid Seth through General Howe," Enoch said as if thinking aloud.
"And intends that we shall help him break jail," Jacob added.
"In that case the poor fellow will still be in danger of being hanged, in case the British ever catch him again."
"Very true; but he will be much better off, according to my way of thinking, with a price set upon his head by General Howe, providing he is with the American army, than if he remains here until day after to-morrow, when, as the major says, he will most likely be hanged."
"Of course that is true. I was only thinking that if we succeeded in effecting his release we should not remove the danger from him, so far as the British are concerned."
"I am well satisfied if so much can be done. I wish Lord Gordon had thought it best to give us more of an idea regarding his plans, so we might make our preparations."
"But what could you do if we knew positively that he intends to help Seth escape from jail?"
"Nothing, although it seems as if we would be better able to perform the work if we made some preparations."
"Do you think it will be necessary for us to run away with him?"
"That must be as Lord Gordon says. Your mother knows exactly the condition of affairs, and will understand that we are working in Seth's behalf, in case you should not come home to-night. If you and I accompany him in his flight, I will trust to it that his lordship finds a way to send word to our people without making any trouble for himself.And in case we go we shall be no worse off than a great many others in this country. Remember Judge McKean, who last year was hunted like a fox through the State, forced to move his family five times, and hide them at last in a little log hut in the woods. Knowing what he and his suffered for the cause, we should not complain however hard our lot may be."
"I am not complaining, Jacob. I stand ready to bear anything which falls to my share, if by so doing I can be of service to the cause; but it isn't possible we could ever do as much as Judge McKean, who signed the Declaration of Independence."
"We can at least do our share toward making good the statement which he signed, and as to the future, so that we get Seth out of the Britishers' clutches we won't trouble our heads. It seems to me the most important question now is, what we are to do between this and midnight. We ought not to be seen loitering around the streets."
"Suppose you go down to my home and ask mother to give us as much food as will last us twenty-four hours. We will then go out near the Carpenter mansion, where we can remain hidden in the grove until night. Such of the provisions as we do not eat during the day will suffice for Seth to take with him in his flight."
"That is a good idea, Enoch, and it will be doing something toward preparing for the night's work. Now, where think you will Seth easiest find theAmerican forces? Where he saw them yesterday? Or in the direction of Valley Forge?"
"I think that is a question Lord Gordon himself can best decide, for he will most probably know in which direction it would be safest for Seth to travel. Shall I wait here, or walk part of the way home with you?"
"Stay where you are. I will be back in half an hour."
Mrs. Ball must have suspected that the boys were engaged in some important work, for, like the wise woman she was, she complied with her son's request, asking not so much as a single question, and scanty though her store of provisions was, collected such an amount as would have sufficed to feed two hungry boys at least three days.
Wrapping the collection neatly in a cloth, she placed it in a small bag, saying as she did so:
"It will be easier to carry in this, with not so much chance of wasting it. Tell Enoch that his mother's prayers will follow him until he comes back to her, and say that he is to remember how eagerly she watches for his return."
"I think he'll be back before to-morrow, Mrs. Ball; but if he isn't, don't you worry. There's a certain Britisher in this city who's got a heart under his red coat, and if it happens Enoch is to remain away very long, that same Britisher will send you word."
"God bless you, boys! God bless all of you, and prosper you in your undertaking!"
There was a suspicious moisture in Jacob's eyes as he hurried through Letitia Street to where his comrade was awaiting him; but by the aid of one corner of the bag he succeeded so far in effacing the telltale sign of weakness that no one would have suspected how very near he was to breaking down entirely, simply because of the kindly words spoken by the mistress of the dancing school.
The hours passed slowly and wearily to the two boys who had nothing more to do than spend the time in waiting; but finally the moment came when, in order to keep the appointment, they must leave their retreat in the grove, and it was with a sense of decided relief that they hurried forward, although knowing that they were hastening on a perilous venture.
On arriving at that side of the town-house where stood the pillory, not a person was to be seen.
Fortunately they had met with no one, not even the patrol, during their walk down from Sixth Street, and as they stood behind the instrument of torture whereon Grimshaw had passed so many painful hours it was safe to assume that no person unfriendly to their design was aware of their whereabouts.
Five, ten minutes passed, and yet no sign of life upon the deserted street.
"Something has happened; he cannot come," Enoch whispered nervously.
"I will answer for him," Jacob replied confidently. "He isn't the kind of a man who wouldback out after promising, and he knows we will wait for him even though he is two hours late."
"If any of the Britishers should see us, we would be put under arrest."
"But there is no danger of that, not while we stay here, and the night is so dark that the redcoats would be obliged to hunt around a good while before finding us. I don't think it is safe to talk, because—here comes some one! Now the question is whether it's the man we are waiting for."
In the gloom the boys could faintly see a dark form coming up the street, and with loudly beating hearts they waited until the figure was nearly opposite, when a low whistle broke the silence, and Enoch said with a long-drawn sigh of relief:
"It is him. No one else would make a signal here."
Then, without waiting for an opinion from his comrade, he stepped out in view, and the newcomer directed his steps toward the pillory.
It was Lord Gordon, and he said, as he approached:
"You have a good hiding-place here, and we'll take advantage of it, because I have a few words to say before we proceed to business." Then, stepping back behind the scaffold, he continued in a low, grave tone: "Unless I was firmly convinced that the story you told me regarding Seth's movements was true, and unless I believed you when you say this is the first time he has ever carried information to the Americans, I should not attempt to aid you.That which I am doing may seem dishonorable to those who do not know all the facts in the case. My own conscience approves, however, and I shall do what, as an officer in the British army, I ought not to do, in order to save from a disgraceful death a boy who has been indiscreet—not guilty as a spy. But although I can thus satisfy my conscience, I could not have my actions known to the commander of the forces without laying myself open—and justly—to a charge of treason. Therefore I ask that from this moment you boys forget that I ever gave advice or assistance in the matter."
"No one shall ever hear your name from us," Jacob said when Lord Gordon paused as if for a reply.
"I shall trust you, my boy, for although I am doing no dishonorable act, as we view the matter, my honor would be at stake if you should incautiously betray my share in this affair. I think now you understand the position which I occupy, and we will say no more about it. This is the only way by which we can aid your friend. If he is here, he will be brought before the court to-morrow; conviction is absolutely certain to follow, and then comes the execution. To plead with General Howe would be not only a waste of words, but cause suspicion in case the boy should escape later. I have here an old pass, signed by the general to visit the prison, issued in blank so that it may be used by any one. I have filled in your names. You will present it boldly at the door. There will be noquestion raised. You will be conducted to the prisoner's cell, and there you are to remain until a soldier opens the door, and repeats these three words: 'It is time!' Then walk out unconcernedly, all of you. If the plan which I have arranged is successful, you will see no one save the man who gives the signal. It can only fail through some officer or soldier going advertently into the corridor, in which case the prisoner will be in no worse position than before; but you will share his cell because of having attempted to effect his escape. Should this last unfortunately occur, both of you will probably be severely punished—flogged, I should say—and that is the risk which you must take if you would aid Seth. Barring the inopportune coming of some person, the scheme will go through without trouble, for the man on duty is an old follower of mine, upon whom I can depend to the death."
"Will he not be punished for allowing Seth to escape?" Enoch asked.
"That part of it I can manage. All which concerns you is to get yourself and your comrade out of prison once you have entered."
"Where shall we go in case we succeed?" Jacob asked.
"That you must decide for yourselves. My advice would be for Seth to push on toward the headquarters of the American army at full speed, and you boys return to your homes."
"But it will be known that we visited Seth, because you say our names are on this paper."
"That pass will not be seen by any one, unless it chances you are discovered, and then the soldier on duty will use it as his warrant for admitting you at such an hour."
"Why shouldn't we go with Seth?" Jacob asked, detaining Lord Gordon as he would have moved away.
"Because one boy has better chance of making his way across the country unobserved than three would have. And again, perhaps I am not willing to assist in increasing the number of the rebel forces to such an extent. However, you are at liberty to do as you choose about it. I have simply advised that he go while you remain here. Now my portion of the work is done; it remains for you to execute the plan; and I hope most sincerely you will succeed. No, we won't have any thanks, or formalities of that kind, my lad," the officer added when Enoch took him by the hand as if he would have kissed it. "I have done only that which seems right; but which to the world will seem wrong. Perhaps some time in the future, when we are no longer supposed to be enemies, you can give free words to your gratitude. Be stout-hearted; move as if you had a right to go and come as you please, and do not lose your courage in event of failure."
Lord Gordon disappeared from view immediately after he ceased speaking, and during fully a moment the two boys stood facing each other, silent and motionless.
"This won't do," Jacob said with an effort. "Ifthe plan proves a success, the earlier Seth is on his way the more chances he will have of reaching our forces. If it is to be a failure, why, the quicker we know it the sooner we'll be out of our suspense. Are you ready?"
"Yes," Enoch whispered; "but I am terribly frightened, Jacob."
"So long as you don't show it there's no harm done; but I am beginning to believe that you are braver when you are frightened. Will you take the pass, or shall I?"
"You keep it. I will follow; but do not think I could conduct the affair as well as you."
"Then come. Try to think of nothing but the fact that unless we succeed Seth will be hanged, and I allow that's enough to keep us well up to our work."
Swiftly, and in silence, the boys walked to the prison where their comrade was confined, and there Jacob knocked vigorously on the iron door, as if about to demand what was his right, rather than to ask for a favor.
A soldier answered the summons, and as he looked at the pass which Master Ludwick held out Enoch fancied a peculiar expression came over his face, as if he had been expecting to see that particular piece of paper.
Jacob stepped over the threshold without waiting for an invitation, and his comrade followed.
The soldier, who had not spoken, led the way in silence down the corridor, unlocked a heavily barreddoor cautiously, as if it was his desire to avoid making a noise, and motioned for the boys to enter.
It was so dark in the small cell that the visitors could not distinguish any object.
"Seth!" Jacob whispered. "Where are you, Seth?"
A glad cry of surprise came from out the darkness; a clanking of chains was heard, and the despairing prisoner cried hysterically:
"Oh, Jacob! Jacob! Is it you?"
"It is indeed, Seth, and Enoch is with me," Master Ludwick said in a whisper. "You had best not talk loud, for there is no reason why any one save the soldier on duty should know we are here."
"But how did you get in?"
"Never mind that part of it, Seth. At least not until we are outside."
"Outside! What do you mean?"
"Through a friend, whose name must not be spoken, there is a chance you may escape, and it is necessary we are ready to act instantly the signal is given."
"But I don't understand—"
"Don't try. Simply know that perhaps you will walk out of here this night free, and keep your mind steadily on the fact that if we succeed you must be precious near the American forces by daylight."
"But how is he to walk with those chains on him?" Enoch whispered. "That is something we never thought of, and it will be impossible for him to go on to the street fettered as he is."
"Now I begin to understand!" Seth exclaimed. "A soldier came in here half an hour ago, and after looking over these irons as if to make sure they were fastened, left the key in the lock of the fetters which are around my wrists. Do you suppose he intended to do so?"
"That is exactly the idea, and we can thank—our friend for having thought of it. Let me see if we can get them off in the darkness."
Aided by Seth's directions Jacob had little difficulty in removing the fetters, and he whispered as he handed the leg-irons to Enoch:
"Put these under your coat."
"Why?"
"It may be of service to him who has assisted us, in case the fetters disappear as if Seth wore them out of the prison. We will throw them away once we are free, if indeed we ever are."
At this instant the cell-door was opened softly, and the boys heard a hoarse whisper:
"It is time!"
"That is the signal!" Jacob said nervously. "Now, Seth, follow close at my heels. Don't speak to any one, nor show signs of fear. This is the moment when we shall succeed, or find ourselves in a worse plight than before. Are you ready, Enoch?"
"Go on! I'll keep close behind Seth."
The three boys, trembling with suppressed excitement, hardly daring to breathe, stepped out into the corridor with as much boldness as it was possible to assume.
No one could be seen save the sentry at the outer door, and he stood, musket in hand, more like a statue than a living being.
The thought came to Jacob that this guard could not have been the one who gave them the signal, otherwise he would have made some gesture for their guidance, and as they walked straight toward him the boy believed the bold scheme was already a failure.
The soldier remained motionless until Jacob was so near that he could touch him, and then he swung open the heavy door.
Jacob stepped out on the sidewalk almost fearing to turn lest he should see that Seth had been detained.
The prisoner followed without molestation, and as Enoch emerged the door closed, the creaking of the heavy bolt as it was shot into its socket telling that the prison was barred once more; but the prisoner was on the outside.
Seth appeared like one in a daze as Jacob and Enoch, ranging themselves on either side, hurried him up the street.
Knowing what apparently convincing proof there was against him, the prisoner had given up all hope from the moment he was locked in a cell, and his escape, having been effected so readily and so quickly, seemed more like a dream than a happy reality.
Until they arrived at Sixth Street, which was as far as the town extended in that direction, not a word was spoken, and then Jacob, unloosening the bag of provisions which he had carried over his shoulder, said as he handed it to Seth:
"Here is sufficient food for two days. You are to make your way toward Valley Forge without thinking of fatigue, for should you be captured again no one can save you from a disgraceful death."
"But tell me why I was allowed to come out of jail?"
"A friend of yours, whose name must never bementioned, arranged everything. We had only to go in and walk away with you."
"What friend have I got who is so powerful?" Seth asked in amazement.
"We are bound never to speak his name in connection with your escape, for what he has done this night would seem like treason to those who did not believe our story. You will guess in time, and it is enough now that you are free."
"But am I not to see mother?"
"You must go without delay. We will tell her what has happened, if she doesn't hear from other sources that a prisoner has escaped, and she would be the first to insist that you hurry away from this town, rather than linger where those who might capture you would be certain to kill."
"Where are you going?"
"We have been advised to return home; but depend upon it, Seth, we shall see you in the Continental army before many days have passed, for now it is our firm intention to enlist at the first opportunity. Remember that you will not be safe until you are with our friends, and that it is likely you can continue the flight uninterruptedly during the hours of darkness. When the morning comes you must be more cautious. Now don't linger. Good-by, Seth dear, and remember that we will see you again as soon as possible."
The escaped prisoner clasped his friends by the hands for a single instant, and then turned as if reluctant to leave them.
Jacob pressed Enoch's arm in token that the parting must not be prolonged, and the two hurried away, leaving Seth to complete the work which had been so well begun.
"It seems as if we were running away from him," Enoch said five minutes later when they were hurrying down the street.
"And that is exactly what we are doing. So long as we stayed he would have lingered, and time is too precious to him to admit of its being spent in idle conversation."
"Even now it hardly seems possible we have really gotten him out of prison."
"That is because matters moved so swiftly after we began. Thank God there is no question about his freedom, and, with so many hours the start, I don't believe he is in much danger of being overtaken."
"Not unless his escape is discovered very soon."
"That is not likely to happen, for at this hour none of the Britishers would visit him, and we may count on the whole affair remaining a secret until some time after sunrise to-morrow. Of course I shan't think of going to Germantown to-night, and shall sleep with you once more."
"Mother will be glad to see us back. The fact of your asking for provisions most likely caused her to believe we were going on a journey, and I know how worried she will be until we are with her once more."
The boys were walking at a rapid pace.
The streets were deserted, and there appearedlittle likelihood of their meeting any one before arriving at Enoch's home.
It seemed as if everything was working in their favor on this night, and Jacob was on the point of giving words to his happiness because of the successful issue of their scheme, when the measured tramp, tramp, tramp of men told that an armed force was abroad.
"It is the patrol!" Enoch whispered. "Now unless we can keep out of sight there is a chance for trouble!"
"Don't run!" his companion said sharply as he was quickening his pace, evidently with the intention of darting into the nearest doorway. "Flight would arouse suspicion, and most likely we have been heard talking. Our only course is to walk boldly on, as if we had good reasons for being abroad at this hour."
That they had been observed even in the darkness was apparent as the officer commanding the patrol stepped quickly toward them, and the boys involuntarily halted.
"Who are you, and what are you doing abroad at midnight?"
"I live in Germantown," Jacob replied, not thinking it wise to mention his own name, for Ludwick the baker was well known to the enemy, "and am visiting my friend, Enoch Ball, who lives on Letitia Street. We have been out in the country, and were delayed longer than was anticipated."
"I have heard it mentioned that young Ball andChris Ludwick's son were friends of the spy who will soon be hanged," one of the soldiers said.
"Is the baker your father?" the officer asked sharply.
"He is."
"And you and the spy are cronies?"
"Yes."
"Fall in then! It will be as well that we have a full explanation as to why you are out at this time of night."
"Do you mean that we are prisoners?" Enoch asked in dismay.
"Exactly, and as I do not propose to give further explanation, you may as well move on at once. Don't attempt to play any tricks, or it will be exceedingly unpleasant."
Not until this moment did Jacob remember that he and Enoch were carrying the fetters which had been removed from Seth's legs and arms, and now he deplored most bitterly his excess of precaution in taking them away from the jail.
He had thought that by removing the irons Seth's escape would appear more of a mystery; instead of which they had simply kept evidences which might convict them of complicity in a deed that would be most severely punished.
He had made a mistake in thus being so cautious, and instantly this fact came into his mind he made a second and yet graver one, by attempting to dispose of the telltale fetters.
As he flung the irons from him by a quick movement,which he hoped might fail to attract attention, they struck with an ominous clang upon a rock in the street, and at the same instant the officer seized him by the collar.
"One of you see what that was he threw away! These boys who have had an excursion into the country may not be as innocent of wrongdoing as at first appeared."
It was not difficult for the soldiers to find the heavy fetters, and the officer appeared perplexed when they were brought to him; turning he asked sternly:
"Where did you get these?"
Jacob made no reply.
"Search him!" was the sharp command. "Search them both!"
As a matter of course the second pair of irons was found in Enoch's possession, and now the boys were no longer ordered to "fall in," but were marched to the prison closely guarded by a soldier on either side.
They had succeeded in effecting the release of their friend, and by so doing had placed themselves in a decidedly disagreeable, if not dangerous, position.
The same soldier who had allowed them to march out of the jail with the prisoner received them when they were brought in, and as he opened the door in response to the summons of the patrol an expression of surprise, almost dismay, passed over his face. It was gone instantly, however, and once more hewas the same automaton it is believed a soldier should be.
"You will lock these prisoners in securely, and take care that no one has access to them until the officer of the day sends his instructions."
Once more the boys walked through the dimly lighted corridor, passed the cell from which Seth had so lately escaped, and were thrust into the one adjoining.
Then the door was locked upon them, and they were left in the darkness to their gloomy reflections.
"I don't reckon we shall find much of a bed in this place," Jacob said grimly, as he felt his way around what seemed little more than a cage. "But we ought to get along for one night in such a hole without grumbling, considering what we have accomplished."
"They will understand because of the fetters that we helped Seth away," Enoch said in a tremulous tone.
"We knew we were taking chances when the work was begun; but I don't think even General Howe will go so far as to declare us guilty unless he has some proof that we did such a thing."
"The fetters should be enough."
"I don't think so. They must be like plenty of others belonging to the Britishers, and who shall say they were the ones Seth wore? Look here, Enoch, the situation is this: We must hold our tongues, absolutely refusing to answer a single question, no matter if they flog us,for once we confess, or admit anything, we shall be in a bad plight."
"Do they hang people for helping spies escape?"
"No, Enoch, you must not get any such ideas into your mind. If you begin to think we are in danger of death you will lose courage, and unless I'm mistaken we shall need plenty of it before we are through with this work. Let's make ourselves as comfortable as possible, and keep our thoughts from disagreeable subjects."
Bravely as Jacob tried to combat his and his friend's gloomy forebodings, both the boys were wretched in mind as well as body.
To sleep even under the most favorable circumstances, so far as bodily comfort was concerned, would have been well-nigh impossible while they were in such a condition of mental depression, and even though there had been nothing to cause alarm, wooing slumber on the stone floor was a most difficult task.
Jacob positively refused to speculate as to the dangers which might threaten, and Enoch was absolutely unable to talk of anything else, consequently little or no conversation was indulged in, and when the morning came both listened intently for those sounds which would betoken that the prisoner's escape was discovered.
They heard voices in the corridor concerning some movement which had been made during the night, and, going close to the door, Jacob learned that a body of troops had left the city the evening previous.For what purpose he could not learn, but judged that it was the movement which Seth had learned of from the officers in his mother's home.
There came into the boy's mind the thought that some important maneuver was being executed, and he fancied they must be benefited thereby, since the attention of the commanding general would thus be diverted from them.
It was not until many days after that he learned this movement, supposed to have been so important, was nothing more than the advance of fourteen hundred soldiers to the relief of some refugees who were being besieged by the Americans at Billingsport.
An hour after sunrise the boys heard the creaking of bolts as the cell adjoining theirs was opened. Then came an exclamation of surprise, hurried footsteps, and they knew Seth's escape had just been discovered.
"He has had at least eight hours, and should be well on his way to Valley Forge by this time," Jacob whispered triumphantly, and Enoch replied:
"If we had only gone with him the scheme would have been a great success."
Two hours later the cell-door was opened, and the prisoners ordered out in charge of a squad of soldiers, Jacob whispering as they crossed the threshold:
"Remember, Enoch, don't give any information, no matter what they may do!"
The boys looked in vain for a friendly face as theywere marched out of the prison between two files of soldiers, but none met their gaze.
If there were any sympathetic ones among the crowd of curious people who gathered around the prisoners and their escort, none dared betray the true state of their feelings lest they be accused of treason, and the two had a very good idea of the sense of loneliness amid a throng which must have come to Seth while he was being conducted through the city.
At the town-house the prisoners were halted for a few moments on the sidewalk, and then taken inside, where were several officers seated around a table on which were many papers.
Here their names were asked and given, and then came the question which both knew must not be answered:
"Why were you on the street last night at an hour past midnight?"
"If we make any explanation, except that which you have decided we must make, it will not be believed," Jacob replied stoutly, although he was far from feeling brave just at that moment.
"Do not fall into the mistake of being impertinent, you young rebel. Anything of that kind will only aggravate the offense."
"We have committed no offense, sir. Since you British have been in possession of the city we have kept the peace, molesting no man."
"Is it not true that you have been carrying information to the rebels?"
"No, sir; we have done nothing of the kind."
"The spy who was arrested while returning from the American lines was a particular friend of yours?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you knew why he left the city on the day he was arrested?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you aid him in any way?"
"There was nothing we could have done."
"Do you know that he has escaped?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you must have helped him."
"It was not necessary we should do that in order to learn he had given you the slip. We were put into the same prison he occupied, and could readily hear the soldiers talking when it was discovered he had gone."
"It is evident these young rebels have been well schooled, colonel, and you will never arrive at the truth save by harsh measures," one of the officers said petulantly to him who was conducting the examination. "A dozen lashes would soon put them in the proper frame of mind for telling the truth."
"Such means must be employed if milder measures fail; but I do not care to go into the business of flogging children if it can be avoided."
"But these rebels are far from being children. They are active enemies against the king, and should be given the same treatment accorded their elders."
"My lad," the colonel said, turning once more toJacob, "there is no necessity for spending time at cross-purposes. Seth Graydon, the spy, has escaped; you are known to have been very friendly with him—have acknowledged you were aware in advance of his visit to the rebel camp. You were found loitering on the street after midnight, and when apprehended had about your persons fetters similar to those which he wore. Your best plan is to make a free confession of how you aided him in escaping, for by so doing you may avoid exceedingly harsh treatment."
"We thank you for the advice, sir, because it seems as if you really meant it for our good; but we have nothing to confess. Of course, you can flog us as often as you see fit; but that will not effect anything."
"You mean that you are determined to hold your tongues as long as possible?" one of the party said.
"We shall say no more than we have said already. It is true we were out last night; we had been spending the afternoon in the grove back of the Carpenter house, and were walking peaceably toward Letitia Street when taken into custody. That is all we can tell, and flogging will not bring more."
The officers conversed together several moments in a tone so low that the prisoners could not distinguish the words, and then the colonel, who had acted as spokesman, said sharply:
"Hark you, lads. You are not to be punished nowfor your refusal to speak, because I wish to report the case to the commanding general before resorting to harsh measures; you shall have time to consider the matter thoroughly, and when questioned again will be forced to make answer. Sergeant, remove the prisoners, and see to it that no one is allowed to communicate with them."
The boys were decidedly surprised at such leniency; both expected a severe flogging, and failed to understand why it had not been administered.
During the march back to the jail the sergeant in command of the squad said in a friendly tone to his prisoners:
"You boys must not make the mistake of thinking you can better your position by refusing to answer the questions asked. I do not understand why Colonel Monckton let you off so easily this time, for he is not given to being tender with the whip; but this I can assure you, that at the next refusal to speak the punishment will be inflicted, and none the easier because it has been delayed."
"We have nothing to tell," Jacob replied quietly. "If a friend of ours is your prisoner are we responsible for his safe-keeping? If he escapes, is it certain we are guilty of having aided him in avoiding a disgraceful death under a false charge?"
"The fetters found in your possession are sufficient proof that you were concerned in the matter."
"I do not understand how that can be, sergeant. If we had been able to get him away from your men, andout of jail, do you think we would be foolish enough to carry his fetters in our pockets?"
"If you did not do so, how came you by the irons?"
"That is a question we can't answer. Why not demand to know who paid for our coats, or where we procured our hats?"
"Your sharpness won't avail you, lad, when next you are brought before Colonel Monckton. I would like to have you escape the whip, for I'm not friendly disposed to such things, especially when a boy is to be flogged; but if you won't take advice you must suffer, and there's the end of it."
"We thank you for your kindness, sergeant," Enoch said, speaking for the first time since they left the prison; "but there is nothing for us to tell. We can explain about the fetters; but shall insist that Colonel Monckton has no right to flog us until he has some proof to connect us with Seth's escape."
"He thinks he has proof enough already, and so do I, for the matter of that. It's none of my broth, though, and I hope I'll be off duty when you're brought out for punishment."
"When is it likely to happen?" Jacob asked.
"That is what I can't say. It may be to-morrow, or a week from then; but it's bound to come some day if you continue as stiff-necked as you are this morning."
The conversation with this particular member of the British army was ended, and the remainder of the journey made in silence.
On arriving at the prison they were handed over to the same soldier who had been on duty when they entered the gloomy place twice before, and he conducted them to the cell in a stolid manner, apparently paying no heed to either, save to assure himself they did not give him the slip.
When he had thrust them into the cage-like apartment, however, and while he was standing at the door gazing around as if to satisfy himself everything was as it should be, he whispered cautiously:
"You have done well, lads. Some one we know says that you are to keep up your courage and hold your tongues."
Then the door was closed with a resounding crash, as if the jailer feared one of the prisoners might reply, and was desirous of drowning the sound of his voice.
"He must have received that message since we left Colonel Monckton, otherwise it would not be known that we had refused to speak," Jacob whispered, and there was a hopeful ring in his tone. "The 'one we know' was where he heard all we said."
"But it isn't likely he could help us without bringing down suspicion on himself."
"It should be enough that he knows what is being done. We have one friend among the Britishers, and that is more than Seth could have said when he was in jail. I wonder if they count on giving us anything to eat?"
"I don't feel as if I should ever be hungry again," Enoch replied mournfully.
"But you will, and you must! If we lose courage now it can only make matters worse, without bettering them any. I reckon on getting out of this in time, and of escaping even a whipping."
"How?"
"That's what I don't know; but it is better to think that way than to sit here fancying each moment we feel the lash of wire across our backs. Hello, we're going to have a visitor!"
The door was opened; but no one entered.
A soldier shoved carelessly into the cell a jar of water and two loaves of bread, after which the door was closed again.
"It doesn't look as if we should hurt ourselves by eating too much," Jacob said with an effort to appear light-hearted; "but it is a good deal more than many friends of the cause in this very city will have set before them to-day. Come, Enoch, let's dispose of our rations in order to be ready for the next supply when it is brought."
During five long, weary weeks did Jacob and Enoch remain prisoners, and although they lived in momentary expectation of a public flogging, the punishment was not inflicted.
Twice more were the boys taken before Colonel Monckton, and on each occasion he gave them to understand that unless satisfactory answers were returned to his questions they would be whipped severely.
Jacob, who acted as spokesman, refused to obey the command, as he did on the first occasion, alleging that he could not explain how the fetters came in their possession without rendering a third party liable to suspicion, and claimed he had rather "be flogged until he was nigh dead" than cause suffering to an innocent person.
The British soldier who had allowed Seth to leave the jail unchallenged was on duty fully half the time the boys were held as prisoners, and now and then spoke words of cheer, giving them to understand that they were indebted to Lord Gordon for their escape from a public flogging.
During the first four or five days of captivity theyquestioned the soldier eagerly, and at every opportunity, regarding the possible recapture of Seth; but he had no information to give them, and this fact was decidedly more satisfactory than if he had been able to tell them of his whereabouts, since it showed that their comrade was yet free.
After a week passed there was no longer any doubt but that Seth had succeeded in gaining the American lines, and being thus assured they had saved his life, the boys could have borne even a public flogging with a certain degree of equanimity, because of what had been accomplished.
As a matter of course Enoch could have no communication with his mother, for orders had been given that the prisoners should be allowed no visitors.
He believed, however, she knew all concerning him that could have been told, through Lord Gordon.
It was possible for the boys to have a general idea of what was going on outside, owing to the conversations which they could overhear between the soldiers, and it seemed as if the one whom they looked upon as a friend made it an especial point to converse with his fellows where they might overhear all that was said.
Thus it was they were aware that, on the 24th and 26th of the month, detachments of British troops went out successfully against the Continentals; that on the 30th Abercrombie led his men against Lacey near the Crooked Billet, forcing that officer to flight,killing nearly a hundred soldiers, capturing fifty prisoners, and destroying or bringing away all his baggage and stores.
It was on the second day after Sir Henry Clinton arrived in Philadelphia that Jacob and Enoch were released from prison.
No formalities accompanied this, to them, very desirable change of condition.
Ten days previous they had been assured by Colonel Monckton that there was sufficient proof to connect them with Seth's escape, and that their punishment, unless they confessed, would be exceptionally severe.
Therefore it was that they were quite as much surprised as delighted when, on this particular morning, the cell-doors were opened and the officer in charge of the prison announced that they were at liberty to depart.
"You will be closely watched," he said warningly, "and rest assured that at the first suspicious action on the part of either, both will be brought here again. A second arrest will be more serious than the first."
"If I have my way about it there won't be any second arrest," Jacob said emphatically, and when the outer door of the jail was opened he and Enoch darted swiftly through, as if fearing the permission to depart might be reconsidered if they should linger in leaving.
When the boys arrived at Enoch's home Mrs. Ball was not particularly surprised to see them nor wasit necessary they should make any explanations as to the cause of their long absence.
She had received, at least three times each week, an unsigned letter containing full particulars as to their condition, and had known several days previous that they were about to be discharged.
"Well, Lord—I mean our British friend, is what you might call a right up and down good fellow, even if he is fighting on the wrong side!" Jacob exclaimed when Mrs. Ball explained why she had not been particularly anxious regarding her son during his long imprisonment. "If all the king's soldiers were like him, I allow there wouldn't be very much fighting in this country."
"He has taken a great deal of trouble to do a favor to three boys who had no claim upon him," Enoch added reflectively.
"But he believed Seth was innocent, and began the good work by trying to prevent his brother officers from killing one who was no spy," Mrs. Ball suggested.
"Yet Seth was not what you might really call innocent, nor, for that matter, were any of us, because he did carry information to our friends, and we stood ready to help him."
"But you were not spies."
"No, mother, not exactly; but much as I hate the British, I am bound to admit they had good cause for punishing us. I think the time has come when Jacob and I should join Seth at the first opportunity."
"You mean that you will enlist?" his mother asked anxiously.
"It is our duty; but if you should say that you were not willing yet—"
"I shall say nothing of the kind, my son. You are old enough to decide for yourselves, and if you think duty calls you it isn't for me to set up my own desires against it. You must remember, however, that you are now looked upon with suspicion by the enemy, and it will not be as simple a matter to gain the Continental camp as it would have been before Seth was arrested."
"We shall succeed in doing it, never you fear," Enoch replied in a tone of assurance, and thus it was settled that at the earliest possible moment he and Jacob would enlist in the American army.
As the days passed, however, the would-be recruits learned that it was not as easy to leave the city unobserved as it previously had been.
It was well known General Washington was ready for the summer campaign, with his troops better disciplined and better equipped than formerly, and the British officers, understanding that Sir Henry Clinton was making an estimate of their abilities before assuming command of the army, were particularly vigilant.
Neither Jacob nor Enoch had ventured to ask for an interview with Lord Gordon. They understood it might place him in an awkward position if they did so, and that their gratitude could best be shown by treating him as an enemy.
Neither had they seen Seth's mother since their release. It was only reasonable to suppose that Lord Gordon, being an inmate of her house, had kept her as well informed as he had Mrs. Ball. Therefore the boys would be serving her interests as well as their own if they refrained from paying her a visit.
It was arranged that they should take advantage of the first opportunity to leave the city, without feeling obliged to give Enoch's mother notice of the fact, and from the hour when they had been allowed to leave the jail they spent their time roaming around the town, hoping to meet some one who might be able to aid them.
More than once did they discuss the advisability of setting out alone in the direction of Valley Forge, with the hope that they might, before traveling many miles, come upon a detachment of Americans; but each time the subject was introduced they decided that the chances of success were against them, owing to the vigilance of the British.
Twice had they been halted by the patrol, when, without any intention of setting forth on a journey, they had wandered heedlessly near the outskirts of the city, and warned each time as to what would be the result if they were discovered in trying to gain the "rebel" lines.
During such enforced idleness they heard much of the carnival, or "mischianza," as the officers termed it, which was to be given as a testimonial in honor of General Howe on the eve of his retiringfrom the command of the forces, but had not believed they would be in the city to see the grand display.
The boys knew that General Burgoyne, assisted by Major John Andre, had charge of the preparations; that a mock tournament was to be a portion of the entertainment, and that it would be held at the country-seat of Mr. Wharton on the Delaware River. They heard that a supper-room was being built for the occasion; that mirrors, pictures, and ornaments designed to hold candles, were being borrowed from the wealthy citizens; but yet so great was the desire of both to enroll themselves as soldiers in the patriot army that neither gave much attention to the proposed entertainment, until the morning of the 18th of May, when they were still vainly searching for means of escape.
During that day at least they forgot their desires in the wonderful scene which was presented.
As a matter of course Jacob and Enoch saw only such portion of the entertainment as was given in public; but Major Andre himself wrote an entertaining account to his friends in England which is given here as interesting, inasmuch as it was the first display of the kind ever made in North America.
"A grand regatta began the entertainment. It consisted of three divisions. In the first was the Ferret galley, having on board several general officers and a number of ladies. In the center was the Hussar galley with Sir William and Lord Howe, Sir Henry Clinton, the officers of their suite, and some ladies.The Cornwallis galley brought up the rear, having on board General Knyphausen and his suite, three British generals and a party of ladies. On each quarter of these galleys, and forming their division, were five flatboats, lined with green cloth, and filled with ladies and gentlemen. In front of the whole were three flat-boats, with a band of music in each. Six barges rowed about each flank, to keep off the swarm of boats that covered the river from side to side. The galleys were decked out with a variety of colors and streamers, and in each flat-boat was displayed the flag of its own division.
"In the stream opposite the center of the city the Fanny, armed ship, magnificently decorated, was placed at anchor, and at some distance ahead lay his majesty's ship Roebuck, with the admiral's flag hoisted at the foretop masthead. The transport ships, extending in a line the whole length of the town, appeared with colors flying and crowded with spectators, as were also the openings of several wharves on shore, exhibiting the most picturesque and enlivening scene the eye could desire. The rendezvous was at Knight's wharf, at the northern extremity of the city. By half-past four the whole company were embarked, and the signal being made by the Vigilant's manning ship, the three divisions rowed slowly down, preserving their proper intervals, and keeping time to the music that led the fleet.
"Arrived between the Fanny and the Market wharf, a signal was made from one of the boatsahead, and the whole lay upon their oars, while the music played 'God Save the King,' and three cheers given from the vessels were returned from the multitude on shore. By this time the flood tide became too rapid for the galleys to advance; they were therefore quitted, and the company disposed of in different barges. This alteration broke in upon the order of procession, but was necessary to give sufficient time for displaying the entertainments that were prepared on shore.
"The landing place was at the Old Fort, a little to the southward of the town, fronting the building prepared for the reception of the company, about four hundred yards from the water by a gentle ascent. As soon as the general's barge was seen to push from the shore a salute of seventeen guns was fired from the Roebuck, and, after some interval, by the same number from the Vigilant. The company, as they disembarked, arranged themselves into a line of procession, and advanced through an avenue formed by two files of grenadiers, and a line of light-horse supporting each file. This avenue led to a square lawn of two hundred and fifty yards on each side, lined with troops, and properly prepared for the exhibition of a tilt and tournament, according to the customs and ordinances of ancient chivalry. We proceeded through the center of the square.
"The music, consisting of all the bands of the army, moved in front. The managers, with favors of white and blue ribbon in their breasts, followednext in order. The general, admiral, and the rest of the company, succeeded promiscuously.
"In front appeared the building, bounding the view through a vista formed by two triumphal arches erected at proper intervals in a line with the landing-place. Two pavilions, with rows of benches rising one above the other, and serving as the wings of the first triumphal arch, received the ladies, while the gentlemen arranged themselves in convenient order on each side. On the front seat of each pavilion were placed seven of the principal young ladies of the country, dressed in Turkish habits and wearing in their turbans the favors with which they meant to reward the several knights who were to contend in their honor. These arrangements were scarce made when the sound of trumpets were heard in the distance, and a band of knights, dressed in ancient habits of white and red silk, and mounted on gray horses richly caparisoned in trappings of the same colors, entered the lists, attended by their esquires on foot, in suitable apparel."