In the Days of Washington: A Story of the American Revolution, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  IN WHICH A BRITISH OFFICER LOSES A FINE HORSE

  "I wish to learn the present whereabouts of Richard Stanbury," said Mr.Waxpenny, slowly and deliberately. "Under that name he came from Englandto America in 1760, and a year later he was known to be residing inPhiladelphia with a wife and infant son. Can you give me any informationabout him?"

  With a heightened color Jenkins stared first at the ceiling, and thenshot a glance of apprehension at the hall door. "Stanbury ain't a commonname," he replied, by way of gaining time, "but it seems like I've heardit somewheres or other. It might'n be Stanwix, now?"

  "No, Stanbury--Richard Stanbury."

  The landlord propped his elbows on the counter and looked meditativelyinto vacancy. "I've heard of Bow Street runners," he said to himself,"and I misdoubt but this chap is one of the snaky varmints in disguise.It ain't likely Dick Stanbury is wanted over in England, but there's notelling. What am I going to do about it? I'll bet a ha'penny the lad'slistening out yonder with both ears. I'll just lie low till I get mybearings--that's the safest plan."

  During the course of this mental soliloquy he was cocking his head thisway and that, and now he shook it in a manner that indicated profoundand hopeless ignorance.

  "If a golden guinea would jog your memory, why, here it is," suggestedMr. Waxpenny, displaying the coin.

  "The gold wouldn't come amiss," said Jenkins, with a sigh, "but it ain'tpossible for me to earn it."

  The law clerk pocketed the guinea. "It's unlikely that Richard Stanburywas in your walk of life, my man," said he, with quiet scorn. "Yourignorance is excusable."

  "My what?"

  "Your disability to remember," corrected Mr. Waxpenny. "And now we'lltry again. Can you tell me if Major Gerald Langdon, of the Britishcavalry, is stationed in this town?"

  "I seen by the 'Royal Gazette,' a fortnight ago, that he was in NewYork," replied Jenkins, truthfully enough. "What on earth is the game?"he asked himself in amazement.

  Mr. Waxpenny nodded his satisfaction. "There is one more person I wishto inquire about," he said. "Did you ever hear of--"

  The rest of the sentence was drowned in a burst of noisy voices andshuffling feet, as half a dozen tipsy soldiers and marines swung roundthe corner and entered the tavern. The London law clerk lookeddisdainfully at the company, and then made a hasty exit. Having servedhis customers Jenkins left them with brimming mugs in hand, and dartedinto the hall, slamming the door behind him.

  "Where are you, lad?" he whispered.

  "Here!" Nathan answered, hoarsely, from the darkness. "I have heard all,Mr. Jenkins. What can it mean? Why did that man inquire for my father?"

  "I haven't an idea," replied the landlord. "If he comes back I'll try topump him. Meanwhile, it won't be amiss to tell your father there's aLondon chap seeking him."

  "I'll do that," muttered Nathan. "But it's queer--"

  "Don't bother about it," whispered Jenkins. "They're waiting for you upabove--in the little room on the right at the head of the stairs. You'llsee a light under the door. I must be off."

  The landlord returned to his customers, and Nathan slowly ascended thestairs, still puzzling over the strange inquiries of Mr. Waxpenny.Guided by the glimmer of light, he entered a small bed-chamber--theidentical room, in fact, in which Jefferson had written the Declarationof Independence two years before. Here the lad found Anthony Benezet andTimothy Matlack, two elderly and highly respectable Quaker citizens. Acandle, standing on a small table between them, dimly revealed theirsolemn faces and sober, gray garments.

  "Thee is late to-night," said Timothy Matlack.

  "I was detained at several places," explained Nathan. "I came as quicklyas I could."

  "And is thee ready to serve us as before?"

  "Ready and willing, sir."

  "This is a task of greater peril and difficulty," said Anthony Benezet."We have tidings for General Washington which cannot be conveyedverbally, and should reach him before morning. Here is the packet,"drawing a sealed and folded paper from his bosom. "Thee must slip unseenthrough the enemy's lines. It is the only way."

  "I will do it," Nathan replied firmly. "There are many weak places, andthe night is dark. I am not afraid."

  "Thou art a brave lad," said Anthony Benezet, "and God will protectthee. So, now hasten on thy journey. When thou hast passed the sentries,go to the house of Abel Sansom, on the Germantown Road. He will givethee a horse for the ride to Valley Forge."

  Nathan concealed the precious packet about his clothes, and turnedtoward the door.

  "Wait," said Timothy Matlack. "Did thee destroy the message I sent theeby Jenkins' man?"

  "I--I think I put it in my pocket," faltered Nathan, making a hastysearch. "But it is not here now, sir. I fear I have lost it."

  "Where, lad? not on the street?"

  "Yes," Nathan admitted huskily, "up near the barracks." He rememberedpulling out his handkerchief while talking to Godfrey. The note musthave fallen out then, and he shivered to think of the possibleconsequences of the loss.

  "What rashness and folly!" groaned Timothy Matlack. "We are ruined,Anthony--"

  "Do not blame the lad," said his companion. "It was but a pardonablewant of caution. All may be well if we can get safely out of the house.Go, Nathan--"

  Too late! Just then came a clatter of feet from down-stairs, and acouple of sharp words of command, a confused tumult arose and Jenkinswas heard expostulating in loud and indignant tones in the tap-room.Next a door banged open, and the lower hall echoed to the tread ofbooted feet.

  For a few seconds after the disturbance began the occupants of thelittle room stared at one another in dazed terror.

  "The note has been found," gasped Timothy Matlack, "and British soldiershave come to search the house. We will all be hanged!"

  "They must catch us first," exclaimed Nathan, extinguishing the candlewith a puff, and darting to the window. "We are trapped," he added, witha gloomy glance at the street below. "Two grenadiers are on thepavement."

  "Thee may get out by the rear of the house," hoarsely replied AnthonyBenezet. "Those papers will be our death-warrant if the enemy take them.Thee must escape, lad--thee must. Quick! there is not an instant tolose."

  "But you?" demurred Nathan.

  "Friend Matlack and myself will remain quietly here," replied the oldQuaker. "The note can but cause suspicion. There will be no proofagainst us, with thee out of the way. Here, take this. I had forgottento give it to thee. Use it only in self-defense." In the darkness hepressed a heavy, brass-barreled pistol into the lad's hands.

  "I will do my best," muttered Nathan. "If I am shot tell my father--" Alump rose in his throat, and without finishing the sentence he openedthe door and stepped into the hall. Fortunately the invading party hadhalted below while Jenkins tardily fetched them a light, and now theywere but two-thirds the distance up the staircase. In the front was astern and handsome officer, with a naked sword in one hand and a glasslantern held high in the other. The flashing light shone behind him onthe red coats and fierce countenances of half a dozen grenadiers.

  Nathan saw all this at a brief glance, and recognized, with a thrill ofanger, the face of Godfrey Spencer among his foes. He was himselfinstantly discovered as he turned and sped along the hall.

  "Halt, in the King's name!" roared the officer. "Halt or die!"

  On dashed Nathan, his heart thumping with terror as the din and clatterof pursuit rang behind him. He knew all about the house and itssurroundings, and a dozen strides brought him to an angle of the hall.He slipped round the corner, and dimly saw, twenty feet ahead, a smallwindow that opened from the rear of the house.

  He was but half way to it when a bright light streamed over him, andglancing backward he saw the officer turn the angle at the head of hismen. Eager shouts told that they believed their victim to be trapped.

  It was a terrible crisis for the lad. Either he must check the enemy orabandon hope of escape, and he realized this in the flash of a second.He halted, faced about, and took quick aim with his pistol.

  "Look out, Major Langdon," cried a warning voice. "He's going to shoot."

  Bang! The thunderous report shook the building. The shattered lanterncrashed to the floor, followed by total darkness, a yell of pain, and avolley of curses and threats.

  Amid the drifting smoke Nathan darted on to the window, threw up thesash, and let it fall with a clatter as he vaulted safely down upon thelow roof of a shed.

  He was just in time. Crack! crack! crack!--bullets whistled overhead,and broken glass and splinters showered about him as he half tumbled,half climbed to the ground. In a trice he was through the stable-yardand over a wall into Third Street, across that deserted thoroughfare,and speeding through a dark and narrow lane in the direction of theDelaware River.

  There was dull shouting and outcry behind Nathan as he ran on, stillclutching the empty pistol, and keeping a keen watch right and left; buthe heard no close pursuit, and there were no dwelling-houses on thelane to imperil his present safety.

  "I'm going the wrong way," he said to himself, "but I daren't turn now.I hope I didn't kill that British officer--I never shot at any onebefore, and I hated to do it. One of the soldiers called him MajorLangdon--why, that's the man who is going to put Godfrey on his staff,and the same that the London law clerk was inquiring about. Well, if Ikilled him I'm not to blame. It was in self-defense, and for mycountry's sake. If I'm caught they'll surely hang me--but I'm not goingto be caught. These dispatches," feeling to make sure he had theprecious packet, "must be saved from the enemy, and it won't be my faultif I don't deliver them at Valley Forge before morning."

  The plucky lad had now reached Second Street, and finding no one insight, he turned up-town on a rapid walk. He had passed Market Streetand was near Arch when he heard faint shouts, and looking back he saw agroup of dark figures in pursuit.

  "They've tracked me clear from the tavern," he muttered, "and it won'tbe easy to give them the slip."

  He began to run now, with the hue and cry swelling behind him. He didnot dare to turn into Arch Street, seeing people moving here and therein both directions; so he continued up Second, slinking along in theshadow of the houses.

  From a doorstep across the way some one shouted, and the humanblood-hounds down the street caught up the cry with hoarse energy. Therush of many feet rang on the night air, and the tumult was rapidlyspreading to the more remote quarters of the town.

  Nathan ran doggedly and swiftly on, looking in vain for a place ofhiding, and knowing that the occasional lamp-posts he passed revealedhis flying form to the enemy. Above Race Street a sour-visagedman--evidently a Tory citizen--leapt forward from one side with a demandto stop. "Get out of the way," the lad muttered fiercely, aiming hisempty weapon. The coward fell back with lusty shouting, which was heardand understood by the approaching soldiers.

  Breathless and panting, Nathan turned west into Vine Street. Withflagging strength and courage he kept on in his flight, realizing thatunless some unforeseen help intervened he must soon be caught. Louderand nearer rang the roar of the pursuit, and a glance behind showed himthe eager mob, led by red-coated grenadiers, within a hundred yards.

  With a desperate spurt the lad pushed on. Up the street beyond him heheard cries and saw people running excitedly. "It's no use; I'mtrapped," he muttered, and just then he made a discovery that sent athrill of hope to his heart.

  On Vine Street, a few yards from Cable Lane, was the house of Mr.Whitehead. Here Colonel Abercrombie was quartered, and a horse belongingto that officer, or to a visitor of rank, was standing before the doorin care of a small boy. It was a large and handsome bay, and from eachsaddle-bag peeped the shiny butt of a pistol.

  "What's the fuss about?" asked the small boy--who was Mr. Whitehead'sson Jonas--as the fugitive pulled up breathlessly in front of him. "Allthat mob ain't chasing you, are they? Did you steal something?"

  "No, but I'm going to," panted Nathan, with make-believe ferocity. Helifted the empty pistol. "Give me that horse. Don't make a whimper. I'llshoot you."

  Terrified by the threat and weapon, Jonas let go the bridle and fled tothe pavement. Nathan swung himself into the saddle, clapped feet in thestirrups, and gave the bridle a tug that swung the horse around andstarted it across the street. The rush and roar of the pursuers rang inhis ears, blending with a shrill cry from Jonas. He heard the house doorfly open, and the voices of Colonel Abercrombie and other officersraised in a profane howl. Then he was clattering madly up the darkroadway of Cable Lane, with the din and tumult ebbing fainter andfainter behind him.

  On his stolen steed the lad cleared street after street at a gallop,making turns here and there, but trending mainly in the direction hewanted to go. Men and women in night-caps flung shutters open to lookout, and called to people in the street as he whirled by. He had thrownhis empty pistol away, and had taken from the holster a fresh one, whichhe held ready for use in his left hand.

  Soon vacant lots began to take the place of houses, and lighted windowsand startled citizens were seen less frequently. Nathan ventured tocheck his horse and listen. Far behind he heard the dull pounding ofhoofs, telling him that some of his pursuers had found mounts and wereon the track again. With a glance around to get his bearings he pushedon at a rapid trot to the open country, thinking this gait more properfor the half-formed plan he had against the coming and unavoidableemergency. He knew the locality, but not so well as he could havedesired.

  "The lines are some place about here," he muttered half aloud, "whatshall I do? Trust to a dash to take me through, or abandon the horseand try it on foot? I must decide before the pickets--"

  "Halt! who comes?" The gruff command rang out from ten feet ahead, wherea shadowy form had suddenly risen from the darkness of the open field.

  "Friend!" called Nathan, and with that he drove the stirrups so hardthat his horse bounded forward on a gallop--straight for the dumfoundedsentinel. There was a futile shot in air, a yell of pain, and then theBritisher was down under the cruel hoofs.

  Nathan and his galloping steed swept on, while behind them the nightblazed with red flashes, and echoed to musket shots, oaths, andscurrying feet.

  "Safe at last!" the lad cried exultantly, and even as he spoke a jangleof equipments and a patter of hoofs on the turf gave the lie to hiswords. He had stumbled not on one or two pickets, but on a dismountedpatroling party watching for deserters, who had been stepping offrather frequently of late through this weak part of the lines--mostlyHessians who had taken a fancy to the country.

  Nathan did not lose heart, black as his chances seemed. He urged hishorse to its top speed, and the noble animal did gallantly. For fiveminutes the chase thundered on, the enemy slowly but surely gaining. Aglance showed the lad that his pursuers were less than two hundred yardsbehind, and when he looked forward again it was to see the riverSchuylkill looming dark and quiet under the canopy of stars.

  No time to hesitate. Over and down the bluff plunged horse and rider,their disappearance being the signal for a rain of bullets. Splash!splash! they were in the water now, and the gallant steed was breastingwaves and current and slush ice as he swam toward the opposite bank andsafety, with the lad out of the saddle and clinging to the flowing mane.

  Now they were at mid-stream--the river was narrower--and from the rearbank the halted dragoons opened fire. Crack, crack, crack!--the ballswhistled and sputtered harmlessly. It was too dark for good aim, andthere was little in sight to aim at.

  But keen eyes spied a boat moored in the bushes, and two soldiers werequickly in it and paddling after the fugitive. They were gainingrapidly, as Nathan saw by turning his head. Clinging to the horse's manewith one hand he snapped the pistol that he still held in the other. Itwas wet, and would not go off. He snatched the second from theunsubmerged saddle-bag, aimed and fired. With the report, the soldierwho was paddling tossed up his arms and fell back with a hoarse cry. Hiscomrade rose to his feet in the swaying boat, now but six yards away,and leveled his musket with a terrible oath.

  Flash! bang! the gallant horse quivered, whinnied with pain, and swunghelplessly around with the current. Nathan's hand let go the bridle, andthe black waters closed over the lad's head.