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Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker Part 31

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"Then up with you. Give him a leg."

I wanted none, and was up in a moment on the bare back of a big farm mare; their errand had been, I learned, the purchase of horses. The captain bade me ride with him, and, turning north, we rode away, while the big brute under me jolted my sore bones.

"And now," said the captain, "let me hear, Mr. Wynne, what you have to say. Take a pull at my flask."

I did so, and went on to relate my adventures briefly--the duck-shooting, which much amused him, the escape at the forge, and what else seemed to be needed to set myself right. He looked me over again keenly.

"You had a close thing of it."

"Yes," said I; "you are a terrible swordsman, and a good one, if you will pardon me."

"I meant to cut him on the head, but he put his neck where his head should have been. There is one rascal the less; but I missed the leader.

Hang him!"

"He will take care of that," said I.

Then my companion said I must join his troop, and would I excuse his rough dealing with me?

I declared myself well content, and explained as to his offer that I was much obliged, and would think it over; but that I desired first to see the army, and to find my friend, Captain Warder, of the Pennsylvania line.

"Yes; a stout man and dark?"

"No; slight, well built, a blond."

"Good; I know him. I was testing your tale, Mr. Wynne. One has need to be careful in these times." For a few moments he was silent, and then asked sharply, "Where did you cross?"

I told him.

"And are there any outlying pickets above the upper ferry on the west bank!"

I thought not, and went on to tell of the bridging of the river, of the lines of forts, and of the positions held in the city by the Grenadiers and the Highlanders. A large part of the army, I said, was being withdrawn from Germantown, I supposed with a view to attack the forts below the city.

"What you say is valuable, Mr. Wynne." And he quickened the pace with an order, and pushed on at speed.

It seemed to me time to know into whose company I had fallen, and who was the hardy and decisive rider at my side.

"May I take the liberty to ask with what command I am?"

"Certainly. I am Allan McLane, at your service. I will talk to you later; now I want to think over what you have told me. I tried to get into the city last week, dressed as an old woman; they took my eggs--Lord, they were aged!--but I got no farther than the middle ferry.

Are you sure that troops are being withdrawn from Germantown?"

I said I was, and in large numbers. After this we rode on in silence through the twilight. I glanced now and then at my companion, the boldest of our partisan leaders, and already a sharp thorn in the side of General Howe's extended line. He was slight, well made, and dark, with some resemblance to Arthur Wynne, but with no weak lines about a mouth which, if less handsome than my cousin's, was far more resolute.

I was ready to drop from my rough steed when we began, about nine at night, to see the camp-fires of our army on either side of Skippack Creek. A halt at the pickets, and we rode on around the right flank among rude huts, rare tents, rows of spancelled horses,--we call it "hobbled" nowadays,--and so at last to a group of tents, the headquarters of the small cavalry division.

"Halt!" I heard; and I literally almost tumbled off my horse, pleased to see the last of him.

"This way, sir," said McLane. "Here is my tent. There is a flask under the pine-needles. I have no feather-bed to offer. Get an hour's rest; it is all you can have just now. When I find out the headquarters, you must ride again." And he was gone.

I found a jug of water and a towel; but my attempts to get the blood and mud out of my hair and neck were quite vain. I gave it up at last. Then I nearly emptied the flask which McLane had left me, set my sack under my head, pulled up a blanket, and in a minute was out of the world of war and sound asleep.

I do not know how long my slumber lasted on my fragrant bed of pine. I heard a voice say, "Are you dead, man?" And shaken roughly, I sat up, confused, and for a moment wondering where I was.

"Come," said McLane. "Oh, leave your sack."

"No," I said, not caring to explain why.

In a moment I was in the saddle, as fresh as need be, the cool October night-wind in my face.

"Where are we bound?" I asked.

"Headquarters. I want you to tell your own news. Hang the man!" We had knocked down a lurching drunkard, but McLane stayed to ask no questions, and in a half-hour we pulled up in the glare of a huge fire, around which lay aides, some asleep and others smoking. A few yards away was a row of tents.

McLane looked about him. "Holloa, Hamilton!" he cried to a slight young man lying at the fire. "Tell his Excellency I am here. I have news of importance."

A moment after, the gentleman, who was to become so well known and to die so needlessly, came back, and we followed him to the largest of the tents. As he lifted the fly he said, "Captain McLane to see your Excellency."

On a plain farm-house table were four candles, dimly lighting piles of neatly folded papers, a simple camp-bed, two or three wooden stools, and a camp-chest. The officer who sat bareheaded at the table pushed aside a map and looked up. I was once more in the presence of Was.h.i.+ngton. Both McLane and I stood waiting--I a little behind.

"Whom have you here, sir?"

"Mr. Wynne, a gentleman who has escaped in disguise to join the army.

He has news which may interest your Excellency." As he spoke I came forward.

"Are you wounded, sir?"

"No," said I; "it is another man's blood, not mine." He showed no further curiosity, nor any sign of the amazement I had seen in the faces of his aides-de-camp on my appearance at the camp-fire.

"Pray be seated, gentlemen. Do me the favour, Captain McLane, to ask Colonel Hamilton to return. Mr. Wynne, you said?"

"Yes, your Excellency."

Then, to set myself right, I told him that I had had the honour to have met him at the house of my aunt, Mistress Wynne. "With permission, sir," I added, "I am charged to deliver to your Excellency eight hundred pounds which Mistress Wynne humbly trusts may be of use to the cause of liberty." So saying, I pulled the English notes out of my long stockings and laid them before him.

"I could desire many recruits like you," he said. "Mr. Hamilton, I beg to present Mr. Wynne. Have the kindness to make memoranda of what he may tell us." He spoke with deliberation, as one who had learned to weigh his words, not omitting any of the usual courteous forms, more common at that time than in our less formal day. General Knox came in as we sat down.

He was a st.u.r.dy man with a slight stoop, and had left his book-shop in Boston to become the trusted friend and artillery officer of the great Virginian, who chose his men with slight regard to the tongues of the Southern officers, for whom they were too often "shopkeepers" or "mere traders."

"Report of court martial on Daniel Plympton, deserter," said Knox.

The general took the papers, and for ten minutes at least was intently concerned with what he read. Then he took a pen and wrote a line and his name, and, looking up, said, "Approved, of course. Parade his regiment at daybreak for execution. Your pardon, gentlemen." And at once he began to put to me a series of questions rather slowly. The absence of hurry surprised me, young as I was, and not yet apt to take in all I might see. Every minute some one appeared. There were papers to sign, aides coming and going, impatient sounds out, a man's death decreed; but with no sign of haste he went on to finish.

At last he rose to his feet, we also standing, of course. "Are you sure that Sir William has recalled any large force from Grermantown?--any large force?"

I knew that the Grenadiers and many Hessians had come in, and a considerable part of the artillery, but to what extent or precisely in what numbers I could not be sure. He seemed to me to be intensely considering what I told him.

At last he said, "You must be tired. You have brought much needed help, and also good news." Why good I did not then understand. "And now what do you desire? How can I serve you, Mr. Wynne?"

I said I wished to be in the ranks for a time, until I learned a little more of the duty.

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Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker Part 31 summary

You're reading Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): S. Weir Mitchell. Already has 737 views.

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