THE RELEASE OF BENZEOR
Benzeor'splight was a sad one, but as he gazed about him in his helplessness the only face upon which he could discover any traces of sympathy or compassion was that of Little Peter. The lad had had no suspicion of his neighbor, and was ignorant, as we know, of the part which Benzeor had taken in the attack on his father's house. Even now it was difficult for him to believe that Ted had spoken truly. He must have been mistaken, Peter thought, as he recalled the kindness of Sarah and Benzeor's wife in permitting the children to find a shelter in their home.
Perhaps the perplexed lad's face betrayed his feelings, for just at that moment Benzeor looked up and said,—
"There! That boy knows me!" and he pointed at Little Peter as he spoke. "He knows all about me, for he's a neighbor of mine. I tell you there's been a mistake. I'm not the man you're"—
Benzeor's words were suddenly interrupted by Ted, who thrust his head again under the water, and when he lifted him out once more the prisoner was sputtering and gasping for breath.
"Made a mistake, did I?" exclaimed the angry giant. "Well, mebbe I did, but I reckon the biggest one was in not keepin' you under the river all the time. Runnin' round here prowlin' on defenseless women folks and tryin' to steal what little money they've got left! Drownin' 's too good for such as you!" And, unable to restrain himself, the angry man again shook his helpless victim till it seemed as if the little breath Benzeor retained must be driven from his body.
"I—I—I'm telling you the truth," gasped Benzeor when he had recovered sufficiently to be able to speak again. "Won't you help me? Won't you save me from this—this—man?" he pleaded, turning to the men in the whaleboat. "That—that boy there knows me, and he'll tell you I—I—I'm all right. Won't you, Little Peter? Please! Please, tell them!"
"Do you know him?" said the leader to Little Peter.
"Yes," replied the lad quietly.
"Ye don't know any good of him, do ye?" said Ted, interrupting, and tightening his grasp upon the collar of his victim as he spoke.
"He is a neighbor of mine, as he said. I never knew any bad of him. And his wife and girl are taking care of the children. I know that." Little Peter was perplexed, and his suspicions had been aroused by the discovery of his neighbor in his present predicament, but the recollection of Sarah's kindness moved him to refer to their recent actions, in the hope that he might aid her father.
"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Ted. "Then his wife takes care of her children, does she? She must be a wonderful woman to do that. Well, let her take care of her brats, and I'll take care of her man, and good care, too!"
As Ted acted as if he were about to renew his attentions, the leader hastily said, "The lad doesn't mean this fellow's children, but his own little brothers and sisters," and in a few words he related the story of the attack on Little Peter's home, and the sad loss which had occurred there.
"Ye don't say so!" said Ted, bestowing a glance of sympathy upon the boy. "That's bad! It is indeed! And ye say this fellowhas taken yer little brothers and sisters into his place?"
"Yes," said Peter eagerly.
"Well, all I can say is that I'd about as soon put a hawk to look after chickens, if it was my doin's."
"Yes," said Benzeor quickly, striving to take advantage of the impression which Little Peter's words had momentarily created. "Yes, the children are all at my house, and being well looked after, too. That doesn't look very much, does it, as if I was a bad man? I tell you there's been a mistake! There's been a mistake! I didn't have anything to do with the attack on this man's place. Help me! Help me!" he hastily cried out, as Ted acted as if he were about to repeat his former actions.
"Hold on a minute, Ted. Perhaps the man's got something more to say," said the leader.
"I am a-holdin' on. Can't ye see that?" replied Ted grimly, once more tightening his grasp upon the unfortunate Benzeor's collar.
"I have got something to say. Something you want to hear, too," said Benzeor eagerly, and appealing to the leader in the whaleboat as he spoke.
"Say it," said Ted gruffly.
"The British are going to make an attack on the ship down in the bay."
"What's that you say?" said the leader quickly. "Do you mean on the Washington?"
"Yes, yes, that's just what I mean. There are a couple of gunboats off the shore here now, and they're going to land some men and get her back again."
"There are two boats off the shore, Ted. I happen to know that, for this very craft we've got along with us we took from them this afternoon," said the leader. And he briefly related the story of the capture.
"There, ye see I'm right!" said Benzeor, eager to follow up the impression his words and those of the leader had created. "Now if you'll help me out of the clutches of"—
"Keep still, you!" interrupted Ted angrily. "It'll be time enough for you to talk when I let go on ye. I reckon nobody is a-goin' to take you out o' my clutches till I get good and ready to let ye go. Now then, stand up straight and speak yer piece like a little man! How did ye happen to know the British was a-goin' to make an attack on the Washington?"
"I heard one of the men up by your house say so."
"I thought ye didn't have anything to do with that attack on poor Sallie! She's my wife, I'd have ye know. I thought you was a-sayin' you wasn't there, and all the time I see ye, and chased ye right out o' my yard, clear down to the river! And now ye say ye heard one of the men there tell about the plan the British have on deck to get the Washington back again!"
"I didn't say I wasn't there," pleaded Benzeor. "All I said was that I didn't have anything to do with it, and I didn't."
"Ye"—began Ted, all his anger instantly returning.
"Hold on, Ted! Hold on! Let's hear what the man has to say," exclaimed the leader.
"I'll hold on, never ye fret yerself about that!" replied Ted, still retaining a firm grasp on his victim, but nevertheless abandoning the action he had evidently had in mind.
"I was there, I'm not denying that," pleaded Benzeor; "but I didn't have a gun in my hands, and I didn't touch the rope either. I fell in with the men and they made me go with them. I just couldn'thelp myself. And it was while I was there I heard 'em talking about the plan to take the Love—I mean the Washington," he hastily added. "They're going to take her in the morning."
"You mean they're going to try to take her," said the leader.
"Yes, that's what I mean; they're going to try to take her."
"The reptile may be tellin' the truth," said Ted soberly. "I had some o' the best o' the Washington's cargo myself. Ye know they brought about all that was aboard o' her up to Manasquan, and sold it here, or leastwise Marshal John Stokes sold it for 'em. I happen to know about that, and the vermin here may be tellin' the truth. Sometimes he does it by mistake, I suppose."
A few weeks prior to this time the British ship Love and Unity ran ashore near Tom's River. There were those among the people of the region who wagged their heads and winked slyly whenever they referred to the misfortune of the vessel, for it was a prevailing impression there that the pilot had not been especially favorable to the British, and more by design than by accident had grounded the vessel near the shore.
Be that as it may, the militia had quickly rallied, and as most of the men were as much at home upon the water as they were upon the land, they seized the unfortunate Love and Unity, and brought her safely into port as a prize.
The cargo was considered a very valuable one, consisting, as it did, chiefly of sugar and various liquors highly prized by the men of those days, and, after being duly advertised, was sold by John Stokes at Manasquan.
The Love and Unity was renamed the Washington, and at this time was lying at anchor near the mouth of Tom's River, within the shelter of Barnegat Bay. As most of the men in the whaleboat, as well as the mighty Ted himself, were familiar with these facts, the words of Benzeor naturally created a far deeper impression than they might otherwise have done.
"I'll tell ye what," said Ted suddenly, turning Benzeor about so that he could look directly into his face as he spoke, "ye seem so well posted I've half a mind to let ye go."
"I'm telling you just exactly what I heard," said Benzeor, his hope of escape instantly increasing. "That's what I heard the men say."
"And it was in the mornin' when they was goin' to come?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm a-goin' to let you off. Hold on a minit," he added as Benzeor strove to free himself. "I haven't finished yet. I'm thinkin' of lettin' ye go on one condition."
"What's that?" said Benzeor eagerly.
"I'm comin' to that pretty quick. I'm pretty comfortable here, so to speak, and don't appear to be in such a hurry as you." As the two men were still standing in the water, and Benzeor's teeth were chattering from cold or fear, the words of the huge man were perhaps not fully appreciated by his prisoner. "Ye appear to be so happy over yer information—though fer my part I don't see what ye held it back till this time fer—that I'm a-goin' to give ye a treat. I'm a-goin' to let ye go, yes, I am; ye needn't be scart about that. Ye're goin', and I'll tell ye where ye're goin', too. Ye're goin, to join the crew o' this whaleboat and go down and help them defend the Washington against her enemies. That's the condition I'm placin' on ye, and that's what I'm goin' to do with ye."
And the powerful man picked Benzeor upin his arms and placed him in the whaleboat next to Peter, who, we may be sure, had not been an uninterested observer of all that had occurred.
"There ye be," said Ted, breaking forth into a loud laugh as he saw the dripping Benzeor hastily take his seat and glance apprehensively toward him. "Now, then," he added, turning to the leader, and still remaining in the water, which came well up to his shoulders as he placed his hand on the side of the supply boat, "if ye want me to, I'll take charge o' yer prize. You'll be puttin' straight fer Tom's River, I doubt not, and ye won't want to be bothered by an extra craft. I'll hide her in a good place up the shore, and likely enough I may come down to the bay myself in the night. Ye'll be settin' up a-waitin' fer me, won't ye?" he added, speaking to Benzeor.
As that individual made no reply, Ted again began to converse with the leader of the band, and in a few minutes all the details were arranged. The captured boat was to be left in his charge, and soon the whaleboat started down the river toward the ocean.
The sun had now disappeared from sight, but the approach of night was all the morefavorable for the plans of the men. When once they were out on the ocean, they hoisted a sail and sped rapidly down the coast.
A sail of a little more than twenty miles brought them to Barnegat Inlet, and as they entered the bay it was decided to make use of the oars again. It was almost midnight when at last they saw the Washington at anchor in Tom's River, and their hail was quickly answered.
Little Peter was so thoroughly wearied by the labors of the long day that he was rejoiced to be told that he could turn in for the night. Benzeor was to have a hammock near him, and, tired as the lad was, he eagerly began to ply the man with questions when they had withdrawn from their fellows.
"Benzeor, I came down here to find out about father. I suppose you know he was taken by Fenton's gang and that my mother was shot?"
"I heard about it."
"It was terrible, Benzeor. I don't know what I should have done if Sarah hadn't taken the children. 'Twas good of her, and of you, too, for you know all about it, I see. I shan't forget it very soon."
As Benzeor made no reply, Peter continued:"I don't know just what to do to find out about father. The pine robbers have their quarters down here, I'm told, and I thought I'd tell Captain Dennis about it and perhaps he would send out a party to search for him. I didn't know just what to make of your being here at first, but I see you have had trouble with them, too. That was mean of Ted to treat you as he did when you said the pine robbers made you go with them. Was it Fenton's band that got hold of you?"
"Yes; that is, I don't think so. I'm not just sure who they were."
"Couldn't have been Fenton then, for you know him when you see him, I'm sure. Benzeor, don't you think I'd better report the capture of my father to Captain Dennis and ask him if he won't send out a searching party?"
"No," said Benzeor slowly. "I don't think that will do any good."
"Why not? What else can I do?"
"Why, the fact is," said Benzeor, "I heard those men talking about your father, too."
"Did you?" said Peter eagerly, sitting up in his hammock as he spoke. He could notsee his companion's face in the darkness, and perhaps it was as well for the troubled lad that he could not, for he would have seen little to comfort him expressed upon it.
"Yes, I heard 'em. There's no use in your reporting it to Captain Dennis or to any one else."
"Why not? Why not? They haven't shot him, have they?"
"No. He's been sent to New York."
Peter said no more. The thick darkness seemed like that within his own soul. All his efforts had been worse than useless, and the troubled boy knew not what next to do.
THE FLEET OF BARGES
Thepresent visit was by no means the first which Little Peter had made to Barnegat Bay and the vicinity of Tom's River. Before the outbreaking of the war he had occasionally gone there with Webberly West, the most noted hunter of deer and wolves in all the region. Great had been the pride of Little Peter when he had returned home with his first deer, some four or five years before this time; and, as he lay in his hammock that night, again and again his thoughts wandered from his present difficulties to the days when he had tramped through the region with the venerable hunter Webberly.
The old man had died just before the war began, but many of his quaint expressions and kindly acts remained in Little Peter's memory. He it was who had taught him how to dig the pits and cover them over with brush, and place the tempting pieces of meat as a decoy for the prowling wolves. LittlePeter could never forget the first time success had crowned his efforts, and he had looked down upon the eyes of the wolf which had fallen into the pit. He could feel the thrill of that excitement even now.
AndWebberlyhad taught him also how to catch the great snapping turtles which abounded in the streams. Sometimes turtles were taken which weighed fully thirty pounds each. What savage creatures they were! and yet the old hunter had handled them as if he had known no fear. A constant war was waged upon these creatures by the settlers for two reasons, one of which was that they were highly valued as an article of food. The captive would be thrown into a barrel and for a few days fed upon the refuse from the tables, to which perhaps at times more substantial food would be added, and then when the turtles had gained the proper degree of plumpness, a feast would be made to which friends and neighbors were not infrequently invited. The eggs of the turtles also were highly valued; and so plentiful were they in the warm sand along the shore that a bushel-basket was frequently filled with them after a brief search. It was true the foxes were as eager as the men to dig outand devour the turtles' eggs, but the supply appeared to be almost inexhaustible and there were more than enough for all.
Another reason which prompted the settlers to prey upon the huge turtles was the fact that their ducks suffered from the savage creatures. A turtle would seize a duck in his claws and tear and devour the bird in an incredibly short time. Naturally, the owners of the ducks objected to the methods of the turtles, and a constant warfare was the result.
Peter had occasionally gone down to Barnegat with Indian John also. The Indian always seemed to know just where the clams could be found in greatest abundance, and he knew as well just how they ought to be cooked. He would dig a hole in the sand and then fill it with wood, to which he would set fire. Then the clams would be poured into the place and covered over with seaweed and brush. When a sufficient time had passed, the brush and seaweed would be raked out, and the cooked clams were considered as a great luxury. This custom of the Indians was bequeathed to the whites, and their method of cooking the clams remains in some portions of the land until this day.
Between the thoughts of his own troubles and his recollections of former visits to the place in which he then was, not much sleep came to Little Peter that night. The knowledge that his father had been sent to New York—for the troubled lad did not think of doubting Benzeor's words—and the prospect of an attack upon the Washington on the following morning were both sources of deep anxiety to the sadly troubled boy. Only four men were on board when the whaleboat had returned; and while the addition of the ten men she brought, or eleven if Benzeor was to be included in the list of the Washington's defenders, materially increased her strength, still, the prospect of a strong defense was not very bright, and if the truth was known Little Peter was not the only one on board who passed a sleepless night.
In addition to all this, the lad was sorely troubled as to his own future movements. With his father a prisoner in New York and the children quartered for the present at Benzeor's, Little Peter could not determine what was best for him to do. To go to the city and seek to aid his father there would be worse than useless now; nor was he able to provide for his younger brothers and sisters.The problem had not been solved when at last he fell into a troubled sleep, from which he was awakened by the sound of men moving about on deck.
Hastily arising, and noting that Benzeor already was astir, he soon made his way up to his companions. The sun was well up in the eastern sky, and the men were preparing for such a defense as might be made against any attempt to retake the boat.
Little Peter found that the most of the men did not believe that any such attempt would be made; and the suspicion with which they regarded Benzeor increased the feeling of sympathy which the lad felt for him, for to him it seemed as if his neighbor had been most unjustly treated, not only by the powerful Ted, but by the men of the whaleboat as well. He thought he had abundant cause for believing in Benzeor's honesty, for had he not received his own little brothers and sisters into his home? Surely, a man who would do that could not be bad, and his indignation against his recent companions increased as he noticed their ill-concealed dislike for his neighbor.
The men all had breakfast on board; and while a constant watch was maintained, nothingas yet had been seen to arouse their suspicion that an attack was likely to be made. Even Little Peter was beginning to think that either Benzeor had been mistaken or that the British had changed their plans, and that nothing would be done that morning. He was about to approach the leader and explain to him the necessity for his own departure, when he was startled by a cry from the watch.
Looking out over the bay, Little Peter could see a number of barges approaching. Startled by the sight, he counted the boats until he could distinctly make out eight of them. Doubtless there were eight or ten men in each boat, and altogether there must be at least seventy in the approaching party.
The excitement on board the Washington at once became intense. The men stood together on the deck watching the little fleet on the bay. The only means by which they could defend themselves were their muskets, and it was soon discovered that these would not avail much against the enemy, for with the aid of a glass it was discovered that in the bow of one of the approaching boats a small cannon had been mounted.
A hurried consultation was held by themen on board, to which neither Little Peter nor Benzeor was invited; the former because he was considered too young to be of much account, and the latter because no one trusted him.
"They'll get this craft now," said Benzeor, approaching the place where the lad was standing. "Perhaps these fellows will believe me another time."
There was a tone of exultation in Benzeor's voice that startled Little Peter, and turning quickly about he said, "You did speak truly, Benzeor. I wish I were out of this. We stand no chance at all."
"You needn't be alarmed. There won't be any fighting done. You took my part yesterday, and I'll not see you suffer now. I'll fix you out all right."
"You'll fix me out? I don't see what you can do. We ought to leave the ship this minute. I don't see what we're waiting for." Little Peter spoke anxiously and was at no pains to conceal the alarm he felt.
"I hope they won't run," said Benzeor quietly. His air of confidence was confusing; but as yet Little Peter was not suspicious of his neighbor.
"They don't act as if they were going to,"said the lad quickly, as the assembly of the men broke up and all began to rush about the deck.
"Come, my lad! come!" said the leader. "Lend a hand here! And you, too," he added to Benzeor; "bestir yourself."
Benzeor's face fell, but he was in no position to refuse to obey. Such defenses as the Washington possessed were rolled together behind the rail, and it was at once evident that the men were not planning to give up the ship without a struggle.
The long whaleboat was placed in readiness to receive them, in case flight became necessary, and then the men waited for the approach of the attacking party.
The boats came steadily on, keeping well together. Little Peter found himself sharing in the excitement, but as the outlines of the men became more distinct his fears increased. What could be done against so many, for it was now seen that there were more men in the barges than at first had been estimated. The boats were spread out in a semicircle, but they were all converging toward the Washington, and plainly would begin the attack together. There were more of those small cannon also than at first had beenseen; and as the boats came nearer and nearer, it was discovered that a man was standing near each and ready to fire at the word of command.
The faces of the men on board the Washington were all pale now, and not a word had been spoken for several minutes. Each man was intent upon the movements of the men in the barges, and did not turn away from the sight before him. Benzeor was the sole exception, and Little Peter could not understand the meaning of the half exultant smile upon his face. For himself, he was too badly frightened to speak, and the evident fear manifested by his companions did not tend to allay his own.
The waters in the mouth of the river spread out almost as smooth as glass. The rays of the morning sun were reflected from the surface of the water and made it sparkle like silver. The occasional call of some seabird or the flight of the low flying gulls were all that broke in upon the silence, but no one heeded them. It was that slow moving but steadily approaching fleet of barges that held the attention of all.
Little Peter wondered why the command to shoot was not given, for the boats were allwithin range now. His own hands were trembling in his excitement, but he was eager to act. At one moment he longed to leap overboard and try to swim to the shore, and then again he would feel as if he must do something to check the approach of those men in the barges.
Not a word had yet been spoken, however. The oars of the approaching men could now be distinctly seen as they rose and fell together. Steadily on and on came the little fleet, and now could not be more than two hundred yards away. Why did not the men on board do something? He felt that the time for action had come, but all were standing silent and motionless, apparently fascinated by the sight before them. The smile on Benzeor's face was almost mocking, and Little Peter saw him look from the fleet to the men on board, almost as if he were exulting in their predicament. What could it all mean? Why was not something done? Surely the time for action had come, but still no one spoke.
A hail now came from the approaching fleet, and the man who evidently was in command stood up in his place. He was still too far away for his words to be heard, and againthe barges, which had halted for a moment, resumed their approach and with an increased speed.
"Men," suddenly called the leader of those on board the Washington, in a low voice, "we must get out of this! We're outnumbered seven or eight to one, and it would be just murder for us to stay here. Man the whaleboat, and we'll put out for the shore."
The hopelessness of any defense was so apparent that the men instantly responded and made a rush for the whaleboat, which had been made ready for just such an emergency. In a moment the men were on board and had grasped their oars preparatory to starting for the shore, when Little Peter suddenly noticed that Benzeor was not with them.
"Hold on! Hold on a minute!" he called. "Benzeor isn't here!"
The leader, who had remained on deck to be the last to leave, turned quickly at the words and discovered Benzeor striving to conceal himself among the defenses which had been piled together against the rail.
"Here, you!" he shouted. "Come out of that and get aboard! Be quick about it! I'll wing you if you don't," he added, raisinghis gun as he spoke, noticing that his call was not likely to be heeded.
Benzeor quickly responded, and sullenly took his place on board the whaleboat; but the men were all too intent upon their escape to bestow much attention upon him.
In a moment the leader leaped on board and gave the order to give way. The long whaleboat darted swiftly forward as the men began to pull desperately at their oars. They needed no encouragement now, for, with their departure from the Washington, their only hope of safety lay in a quick passage to the shore, which lay about a hundred yards away.
A shout from the men in the barges greeted the appearance of the whaleboat as it shot out into sight, but the hail was not heeded. One of the small cannon was discharged, and from one of the barges came a volley; but only one man was hit, and the whaleboat rapidly increased its speed.
The shore was near now, and the desperate men were putting forth all their strength. The barges did not pursue, for the sailors were intent upon gaining the ship first of all. In a few moments the whaleboat grounded, and the men leaped out and started quickly for the woods which grew close to the shore.
Little Peter was in the rear, and as he turned back to see what would be done by the other party, he was astonished to see Benzeor turn quickly and start at full speed for the whaleboat again. In a moment he had leaped on board, and, seizing one of the oars, with a strong push sent the boat far out upon the river.
THE RIDE WITH THE LIEUTENANT
Tom Cowardfollowed young Lieutenant Gordon as he led the way to the post to which Friend Nathan had tied the steed, and then stopped and for a moment gazed ruefully at the beast. His friend's good-natured laugh broke forth again as he beheld Tom's evident hesitancy about mounting to the back of the animal; and surely to a boy who had been accustomed to ride the colts in Benzeor's pastures without saddle or bridle, and dash about the lots in sheer delight at the antics and efforts of the unbroken steeds to dislodge their rider, there was not much to inspire or impress him in the sight of the broken-winded beast which Nathan had provided. Even the horse himself appeared to be conscious of his degradation, and stood motionless and with hanging head, as if he, too, would protest against any warlike efforts on his part.
"I've only one request to make, Nathan," said the lieutenant. "I'm sure you will notobject to it, but I think I'd better make it before we start."
"What is thy request?" said the Quaker.
"If General Washington once sees that horse, he'll want it for himself. You'll not object, will you, to his use of it?"
"Nay. I think not that George Washington will care for this beast of mine," protested Nathan soberly, and apparently not suspecting that the young officer was poking fun at him. "Still, he may be able to make him of some use. Thee will not forget to see that I am suitably rewarded?"
"Never fear as to that, though I doubt not my friend Tom here will be of the opinion that you ought to pay him handsomely for the pain he will suffer after he has ridden your beast a few miles. That is, if the horse can go as far as that."
"Thy heart may rest easy as to that. He may limp when he first starts, but as soon as his joints are warmed he will do thy service."
"We'll warm his joints, then," laughed the lieutenant. "You might be warming him up now, Tom," he added, turning to his companion, "while I'm getting my horse ready. He's in the barn, and I'll join you in a minute or two."
In a brief time the officer returned, but his steed was showing the evidences of his recent hard work, and Nathan's eyes twinkled with satisfaction at the sight, for his own horse, perhaps, might not then be at such a disadvantage, and the prospect of a "suitable" reward became more promising.
The young men quickly mounted, and, after thanking their host in a substantial manner for his hospitality, started down the long lane which led to the road beyond. Tom's horse limped painfully and caused no little delight to young Gordon, who again and again laughed aloud and offered all manner of suggestions to the lad concerning the impression he would create when the army should discover his approach.
At times Tom thought of dismounting and, turning the horse loose in the road, strive to make his own way on foot; but the creaking joints of the poor beast seemed to find relief with action, and the young riders had not gone far on their way before, to the surprise of both, Nathan's steed was proving his ability to keep up with the lieutenant's horse, which evidently had been overridden and was in no condition for a hard ride.
But, with the discovery of the servicewhich Tom's horse might render, all the disposition to regard their journey lightly departed from the riders, and the serious nature of their undertaking rendered both of them silent. The American army could not be far distant now, but between them and it all the dangers had not disappeared. The visit of the British band at the home of Nathan Brown had indicated that other parties might be in the region on similar errands; but Tom was not thinking of these possibilities so much as was the young officer who was riding by his side.
Tom's meditations were mostly concerning the American army. For months his strongest desire had been to join it, and now that the time had come when his desires were likely to be satisfied, he discovered that much of his eagerness was gone. Not that he had any thought of turning back, but the proximity of the two armies clearly indicated that a meeting between the forces was not improbable, and Tom's thoughts were largely of that. The glamour was all gone now, and the serious nature of his undertaking was uppermost in his mind. The silence also of his companion did not tend to allay his fears, but the lad did not refer to them, and was doing hisutmost to make his horse keep up the pace at which he was going.
"Whew! This is a warm morning! Let's give our horses a drink and a rest," said the lieutenant at last, as he turned into a little brook that crossed the road.
Tom followed his example, and the dripping horses thrust their heads deep into the water. The sun had now appeared and the beams fell full on their faces. The air was motionless, and even at that early hour was in places quivering under the heat of the summer sun. The very birds were silent, while high overhead the heavens were like brass. On the horizon masses of dark clouds were piled, and a low, deep rumble startled both the young riders.
"Was that a cannon, or was it thunder?" inquired Tom quickly.
"Thunder. We may hear the cannon before long, though."
"Why don't we start on, then? The sooner we gain the army the better. We don't want to be caught in here between them." Tom spoke anxiously, and his fear was as apparent in the expression upon his face as in his words.
"We've got to give our horses a bit of arest. Mine has been going hard all night, and yours won't be able to go far in such heat as this. We'll have to be careful of their strength, or we shall be worse off than we are now."
"Have you been out all night? What have you been doing?"
"Finding out what Clinton is up to. When I was talking with Nathan I knew all the time more about it than he did."
"Did you find out?" said Tom eagerly. "What are the redcoats doing now?"
"Pretty much the same thing they've been doing right along. They're making a change in the direction they're going, unless I'm greatly mistaken. And then, too, they've done something else which doesn't promise very well."
"What's that?"
"They've drawn all their stronger forces into the rear guard and sent on the Hessians with the baggage train in front, for one thing."
"Why do you suppose they have done that?"
"Oh, they've an idea, I fancy, that we're going to try to take their supplies. They'll find out, though, that we're after men more than we are after their baggage wagons.However, that explains the change in the direction of their march, if I'm not greatly mistaken. They've put the Hessians in front and the best men behind."
"I wish they had left the Dutch butchers there!" said Tom impulsively. "I hate the Hessians. I hate the very name and sight of them! Think of it! A lot of men just hired to come over here and shoot and kill and steal! I wish they had been left where they were, that is, if General Washington is ready for them!"
"I think you'll find him ready when the time comes," remarked the lieutenant quietly. "But about the Hessians. I don't like them any better than you do, but somehow I can't bring myself to feel about it as some of the men do. I can't see that they're to be blamed for being brought over here, or even being engaged in such work as they're doing; and I know more about that than you do, too. The ones who are the worst are not those who have come over here, but those who have sent them. Just think of a petty little prince, or king, being able to hire out a lot of his own subjects to pay off his own debts with! These men feel just the same as you or I would, I have thought. They havewives and mothers and children, and yet they have to leave them all and come over here and be marks for our bullets, whether they want to be or not. They just haven't anything to say about it. They're told to come and come they must, though there won't be so many to go back as came over, I'm thinking. At least, I'm going to do all I can to thin out their ranks, though I feel sorry for the poor fellows all of the time."
This was a new way of looking at the hated "Dutch butchers," at least it was entirely new to Tom Coward. He had heard only the expressions of rage among the colonists which their coming had aroused, and their strange words and brutal acts had never received much mercy in the judgment which he had heard passed upon them by his acquaintances.
The anger of the patriots, perhaps, was but natural; but the employment of the Hessians has not furnished the only instance in history where the first and most apparent view has not always been the most correct one. Indeed, it frequently happens that the troubles between men, to say nothing of boys, arises from a misunderstanding; and it is the part of wisdom, as well as of justice, to look belowthe surface and try to discover the true conditions.
"Then the British are to be blamed, if what you say is true," said Tom, after a brief silence. "They are the ones at the bottom of it all."
"Yes, the British are the ones who are most to be blamed. But even there, Tom, if I'm correctly informed, it's the leaders and not the people. The way I understand it is that the rank and file of the common people in England are opposed to this war, and would put a stop to it in a moment if they could."
"If they could?" repeated Tom. "I don't understand what you mean."
"Just what I say. The very best people in England have, from the very beginning of this war, been opposed to the taxes, the use of the Indians, and the hiring of these Hessians. It's the king and Lord North and a few others of the pig-headed fellows who are doing it all. Tom, my father and my mother both came from England. As far back as I can remember they have told me stories of our old home and of the friends we have over there. Why, do you know it's been the dream of my life to go overthere some day, and meet some of my cousins and see the place where my father and mother were born."
"I didn't know you were a tory," said Tom slowly.
"Tory? I haven't a drop of tory blood in my veins, and hope I never shall have."
"But—but—you talk like one."
"Is it tory talk for me to say I don't blame the Hessians for coming over here, but those who hired them and sent them? Is it tory talk for me to say I love to think of the place where my father and mother were born, and that I should be glad to look into the faces of those who bear the same name I do, and who have some of the same kind of blood in their veins? Is it tory talk for me to say that I'm proud of what Old England has done, or rather of many things she has done, from the days of William the Conqueror until now? And that belongs to me as much as it does to them, for my own grandfather was one of the bravest men in the whole British army! This war is like one between brothers, and it's all the more wicked on that account. And it's worse yet, because the most of the Englishmen are not in favor of it at all."
"I don't just see why you don't fight with the redcoats, instead of against them, then."
"Because this is my home and this is my country, and because the king and his court aren't fit to govern cannibals, to say nothing of men. No, sir, it's just because I do believe in all I've said that I'm fighting for my country and shall till the war is ended—which I hope will be soon!"
"And would you shoot a redcoat or a Dutch butcher?"
"Every time! It was a sad thing that the war had to come, but as come it did, it would be sadder still not to do everything in our power now to carry it through. I'm sorry for the Hessians, but I'd shoot every one of them if I could do it. I'm sorry for the redcoats, and I know they are not to be blamed, or at least some of them are not, but I'd mow them down now, every one of them, as I'd cut the grass in haying-time. Fight? Why, my lad, I'm in this war from the crown of my head to the sole of my foot! And I wouldn't stop till the redcoats cry 'enough,' or we drive them right into the Atlantic ocean, the way Parson Tennent used to tell about the pigs in Gadara being chased by the devils right into the sea. Notthat I think the ones who are doing the chasing are in any way connected with the swine drivers in the parson's story," he added, laughing lightly as he spoke. "But we must be going. Our horses are rested now, and we'll be running into a thunder-storm before we see the Continentals, if we don't look out."
The ride was quickly resumed, but Tom Coward was silent and sadly puzzled to account for his friend's words. Apparently, he was enthusiastic in his devotion to the cause of the patriots, but he had never heard any one talk in that manner before. His friends and neighbors were all hard and bitter, and the bitterness seemed to increase as the war continued. But here was his friend, fighting with all the devotion of his heart, and yet not blaming the very men he was trying hard to conquer for the part they were taking in the war.
It seemed to him all strange, and while he was deeply impressed by many of the words of the enthusiastic young lieutenant, his own feelings were of a very decidedly different character. For a half hour they rode forward as swiftly as their steeds could carry them, but the heavy clouds had meanwhilebeen climbing higher in the heavens, and the mutterings of the thunder had now become deeper and heavier.
"We'll put into that barn ahead there, and wait for the storm to pass," said the lieutenant, pointing as he spoke to a rude barn by the roadside.
As the rain was now falling, Tom was glad to follow the advice, and in a few moments they approached the open door. They had not dismounted when a strangely clad being stepped forth from the barn and shouted:—
"Halt, will yez? I'll be after havin' yez give an account of yerselves, that I will."
Tom glanced up in fear and surprise, and the sight before him did not tend to allay his alarm. The soldier presented a gun, but was its bearer a man or woman? A long petticoat certainly looked like the garb of a woman, but the soldier also was clad in an artilleryman's coat, while a cocked hat and feathers crowned the head of the strange being.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and with a voice that was gruff and deep, the strangely clad soldier bore but slight resemblance to a woman, though the dress certainly seemed to proclaim the sex of the speaker.
The rain was now falling in torrents and Tom was drenched in a moment; but in the brief silence which followed the demand of the soldier, he could not determine what course his companion would decide to follow.