Captain Sam Part 19

"A friend," answered Jake.

"What do you want?" said the night-capped head, rather gruffly.

"I want to see the Leftenant."

"What do you want with me?"

"I want to talk with you."

"Oh, go to the mischief! I'm in bed."

"But I must see you to-night," said Jake.

"On business?"

"Yes, sir."

"Important?"

"Yes."

"Won't it keep till morning?"

"No, sir; I'm afraid not."

"Very well. I suppose I must see you then. Push the door open and find your way up the stairs."

Jake did as he was told to do, and presently found himself in the room where Lieutenant c.o.xetter had been sleeping. That distinguished servant of His Majesty, King George, had meantime drawn on his trowsers, and he now lighted a little oil lamp, which threw a wretched apology for light a few feet into the surrounding darkness.

"Now then," said the officer, in no very pleasant tones, "What do you want with me at this time o' night? Who are you, and where do you come from?"

Jake was so nervous that he found it impossible to find a place at which to begin his story, and the impatient Lieutenant spurred him with direct questions.

"What's your name?" he asked. "You can tell that, can't you?"

"Yes, sir," faltered Jake.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SPEAK, MAN! OR I CHOKE YOU."]

"Well, tell it then, and be quick about it."

"My name is Jacob Elliott," said that worthy, fairly gasping for breath in his embarra.s.sment.

"Oh! you do know your name, then," said the officer. "Now, then, where do you come from?"

"From Alabama," answered Jake.

"From Alabama! the mischief you do! You're an American then? What the mischief are you doing here?"

"Oh, sir, that's just what I want to tell you about, if you'll let me."

"If I'll _let_ you? Ain't I doing my very best to _make_ you? Havn't I been worming your facts out of you with a corkscrew? But you'd better be quick about giving an account of yourself. If you don't give a pretty satisfactory one, too, I'll arrest you as a _spy_,--a _spy_, my good fellow, do you understand? _A spy_, and we hang that sort o'

people. Come, be quick."

"Spies! that's just it, Lieutenant. I came here to-night to tell you about spies."

"Then why the mischief don't you do it? You'll drive me mad with your halting tongue. Speak man, or I'll choke you!" and with that the officer stood up and bent forward over Jake, to that young man's serious discomfiture.

"They's some spies here--" Jake began. "Where?" asked the impatient officer interrupting him.

"Down there, in a camp," said Jake, talking as rapidly as he could, lest the officer should interrupt him again; "Down there in a camp by the bay, an' they've got a boat an' guns, an' they're boys, an' they pretend to be a fis.h.i.+n' party."

"Ah!" said the Lieutenant, "I thought I'd make you find your tongue.

Now listen to me, and answer my questions, and mind you don't lie to me, sir; mind you don't lie."

"I won't. I pledge you my honor--," began Jake.

"Never mind pledging that; it isn't worth pledging. You see you're a sneak, else you wouldn't be here telling tales on your fellow countrymen. But never mind. It's my business to make use of you. I'm provost-marshal."

This was not at all the sort of treatment Jake had expected to receive at the hands of British officers. He had supposed that the value of his services in betraying his fellows, would be recognized and rewarded, and he had even dreamed of receiving marked attentions and a good, comfortable, safe place in the British service in recompense. It had never occurred to him that while all military men must get what information they can from deserters, and traitors, they do not respect the sneaking fellows in the least, but on the contrary hold them in profoundest contempt, almost spurning them with their boots. Jake had gone too far to retreat, however, and must now tell his whole story.

He told where the boys were, and how they had come there, and for what purpose, lying only enough to make it appear that he himself had never willingly joined them, but had been deceived at first, and forced afterward into the service.

The Lieutenant listened to the story and then asked:--

"Have you anything to show for all this?"

"How do you mean?" asked Jake.

"Why, you wretched coward, don't you understand? How am I to know how much of your story is true, and how much of it false? Of course it isn't all true. You couldn't talk so long without telling some lies.

What I want to know is, what can you show for all this story? If I arrest these boys, what can be proved on them?"

"Well, the Captain's got a despatch from General Jackson; that'll prove something."

"When did he get it?"

"To-night."

"Very well. That's something. Now you just sit still till I tell you to do something else."

So saying the Lieutenant summoned a courier or two, and sent them off with notes.

"These boys have a boat, you say?"

"Yes."

"Do they know how to sail it?"

"A little; the Captain handles it better'n the rest."