With Wolfe in Canada: The Winning of a Continent

  Chapter 19: A Dangerous Expedition.

  The details of the proposed expedition being thus arranged, the captainleft the cabin with James, and the latter paced to and fro on thequarterdeck, while the captain sent for the boatswain and directed himto pick out four men who could swim well, and who were ready tovolunteer for desperate service.

  While the captain was so engaged, James saw a naval officer staringfixedly at him. He recognized him instantly, though more than fouryears had elapsed since he had last seen him. He at once stepped acrossthe quarterdeck.

  "How are you, Lieutenant Horton? It is a long time since we last partedon the Potomac."

  Horton would have refused the proffered hand, but he had alreadyinjured himself very sorely, in the eyes of the squire, by his outburstof ill feeling against James, so he shook hands and said coldly:

  "Yes, your position has changed since then."

  "Yes," James said with a laugh, "but that was only a temporary eclipse.That two months before the mast was a sort of interlude for which I amdeeply thankful. Had it not been for my getting into that smugglingscrape, I should have been, at the present moment, commencing practiceas a doctor, instead of being a captain in his majesty's service."

  The words were not calculated to improve Horton's temper. What amistake he had made! Had he interfered on James Walsham's behalf--and aword from him, saying that James was the son of a medical man, and wasassuredly mixed up in this smuggling affair only by accident--he wouldhave been released. He had not spoken that word, and the consequencewas, he had himself fallen into bad odour with the squire, and JamesWalsham, instead of drudging away as a country practitioner, was anofficer of rank equal to himself, for he, as second lieutenant in theSutherland, ranked with a captain in the army.

  Not only this, but whenever he went to Sidmouth he had heard how Jameshad been mentioned in the despatches, and how much he wasdistinguishing himself. Everything seemed to combine against him. Hehad hated James Walsham from the day when the latter had thrashed him,and had acted as Aggie's champion against him. He had hated him more,when he found Aggie installed as the squire's heiress, and saw how highJames stood in her good graces, and that he had been taken up by thesquire.

  He had hoped that he had gained the advantage over him, when he hadcome back a naval officer, while James was still a schoolboy, and hadkept aloof from the house while he devoted himself to the youngheiress. Everything had seemed going on well with his plans, until thevery circumstance which, at the time, seemed so opportune, namely, thepressing James as a seaman on board the Thetis, had turned out sodisastrous. The letter, in which he had suffered his exultation toappear, had angered the squire, had set Mrs. Walsham and her friend theex-sergeant against him, and had deeply offended Aggie. It had, too,enabled the squire to take instant measures for procuring James'sdischarge, and had now placed the latter in a position equal to hisown.

  James, on his part, did not like Richard Horton, but he felt no activeanimosity against him. He had got the best of it in that first quarrelof theirs, and, although he had certainly felt very sore and angry, atthe time Richard was staying at the Hall, and seemed to have taken hisplace altogether as Aggie's friend, this feeling had long since diedaway, for he knew, from the letters of Mr. Wilks, that Aggie had noliking whatever for Richard Horton.

  "You were at Sidmouth in the spring, I heard," he said. "You found mymother looking well, I hope?"

  "Yes, I was there a fortnight before we sailed," Richard said. "I thinkshe was looking about as usual."

  For a few minutes, they talked in a stiff and somewhat constrainedtone, for Richard could not bring himself to speak cordially to thisman, whom he regarded as a dangerous rival. Presently, the captain cameup to them.

  "I have picked four volunteers for your work, Captain Walsham. Theywere somewhat surprised, at first, to find that they were required fora bout in a French prison; but sailors are always ready for anyhare-brained adventure, and they made no objection whatever, when Iexplained what they would have to do. Next to fighting a Frenchman,there's nothing a sailor likes so much as taking him in. YoungMiddleton goes in command of the boat. He is a regular young pickle,and is as pleased at the prospect as if a French prison were the mostamusing place in the world. He knows, of course, that there will besome considerable danger of his being shot before he is taken prisoner;but I need hardly say that the danger adds to the interest of thescheme. It's a risky business you have undertaken, Captain Walsham,terribly risky; but, if you succeed, you will have saved the expeditionfrom turning out a failure, and we shall all be under obligations toyou for the rest of our lives.

  "Has Captain Walsham told you what he is undertaking, Mr. Horton?"

  "No, sir."

  "He is going to get taken prisoner, in the gig, in order that he may,if possible, give the French the slip again, find out some way downthat line of cliffs, and so enable the general to get into the heart ofthe French expedition. It is a grand scheme, but a risky one.

  "The chances are a hundred to one against you, Captain Walsham."

  "That is just what the general said," James replied, with a smile. "Idon't think, myself, they are more than five to one against me; but,even if they were a thousand, it would be worth trying, for a thousandlives would be cheaply sacrificed to ensure the success of thisexpedition."

  "There are not many men who would like to try it," the captain said. "Isay honestly I shouldn't, myself. Anything in the nature of duty,whether it's laying your ship alongside a Frenchman of twice her weightof metal, or a boat expedition to cut out a frigate from under the gunsof the battery, I should be ready to take my share in; but anexpedition like yours, to be carried out alone, in cold blood and inthe dark, I should have no stomach for. I don't want to discourage you,and I honour your courage in undertaking it; but I am heartily gladthat the general did not propose to me, instead of to you, to undertakeit."

  "You would have done it if he had, sir," James said, smiling, "and sowould any officer of this expedition. I consider myself most highlyhonoured in the general entrusting me with the mission. Besides, youmust remember that it is not so strange, to me, as it would be to mostmen. I have been for four years engaged in forest warfare, scouting atnight in the woods, and keeping my ears open to the slightest soundwhich might tell of a skulking redskin being at hand. My eyes havebecome so accustomed to darkness, that, although still very far shortof those of the Indians, I can see plainly where one unaccustomed tosuch work would see nothing. I am accustomed to rely upon my ownsenses, to step noiselessly, or to crawl along on the ground like anIndian. Therefore, you see, to me this enterprise does not presentitself in the same light as it naturally would to you."

  "You may make light of it," the captain said, "but it's a dangerousbusiness, look at it as you will. Well, if you go through it safely,Captain Walsham, you will be the hero of this campaign."

  Late in the afternoon the tide turned, and the vessels began to driftup the river. The four sailors had, of course, mentioned to theircomrades the service upon which they were about to be engaged. Thecaptain had not thought it necessary to enjoin secrecy upon them, forthere was no communication with the shore, no fear of the knowledgespreading beyond the ship; besides, the boat had to be damaged, andthis alone would tell the sailors, when she was lowered in the water,that she was intended to be captured.

  A marine was called up to where the captain's gig was hanging from thedavits. James pointed out a spot just below the waterline, and the man,standing a yard or two away, fired at it, the ball making a holethrough both sides of the boat. Another shot was fired two or threeinches higher, and the four holes were then plugged up with oakum.

  All was now in readiness for the attempt. James dined with CaptainPeters, the first lieutenant and four officers of the general's staffbeing also present, General Wolfe himself being too ill to be at table,and Admiral Holmes having, early in the morning, gone down the river toconfer with Admiral Saunders.

  "I drink good health and a safe return to you, Capta
in Walsham, for oursake as well as yours. As a general thing, when an officer is chosenfor dangerous service, he is an object of envy by all his comrades;but, for once, I do not think anyone on board would care to undertakeyour mission."

  "Why, sir, your little midshipman is delighted at going with me. He andI have been chatting the matter over, and he is in the highest glee."

  "Ah! He has only got the first chance of being shot at," Captain Peterssaid. "That comes in the line of duty, and I hope there isn't anofficer on board a ship but would volunteer, at once, for that service.But your real danger only begins when his ends.

  "By the way," he asked, as, after dinner was over, he was walking upand down the quarterdeck, talking to James, "have you and LieutenantHorton met before? I thought you seemed to know each other when I cameup, but, since then I have noticed that, while all the other officersof the ship have been chatting with you, he has kept aloof."

  "We knew each other at home, sir," James said, "but we were never verygood friends. Our acquaintanceship commenced, when we were boys, with afight. I got the best of it, and Horton has never, I think, quiteforgiven me."

  "I don't like the young fellow," Captain Peters said shortly. "I knowhe was not popular in the Thetis, and they say he showed the whitefeather out in the East. I wouldn't have had him on board, but thefirst lord asked me, as a personal favour, to take him. I have had noreason to complain of him, since he joined, but I know that he is nomore popular, among my other officers, than he was in the Thetis."

  "I never heard a word against him, sir," James said earnestly. "Hisuncle, Mr. Linthorne, has large estates near Sidmouth, and has been thekindest friend to me and mine. At one time, it was thought that Hortonwould be his heir, but a granddaughter, who had for years been missing,was found; but still Horton will take, I should think, a considerableslice of the property, and it would grieve the squire, terribly, ifHorton failed in his career. I think it's only a fault of manners, sir,if I may say so, and certainly I myself know nothing whatever againsthim."

  "I don't know," Captain Peters replied thoughtfully. "Just before Isailed, I happened to meet an old friend, and over our dinner Imentioned the names of my officers. He told me he knew this Mr.Linthorne well, and that Horton had gone to sea with him for the firsttime as a midshipman, and that there was certainly something queerabout him as a boy, for Linthorne had specially asked him to keep hiseye upon him, and had begged him, frankly, to let him know how heconducted himself. That rather set me against him, you know."

  "I don't think that was anything," James urged. "I do not much likeHorton, but I should not like you to have a false impression of him. Itwas a mere boyish affair, sir--in fact, it was connected with thatfight with me. I don't think he gave a very strictly accurate accountof it, and his uncle, who in some matters is very strict, although oneof the kindest of men, took the thing up, and sent him away to sea.Horton was certainly punished severely enough, for that stupidbusiness, without its counting against him afterwards."

  "I like the way you speak up in his defence, Captain Walsham,especially as you frankly say you don't like him, and henceforth I willdismiss the affair from my mind, but I should say that he has neverforgiven it, although you may have done so."

  "That's natural enough," James laughed, "because I came best out ofit."

  To Richard Horton, the news that James Walsham was about to undertake adesperate enterprise, which, if he succeeded in it, would bring himgreat honour and credit, was bitter in the extreme, and the admirationexpressed by the other officers, at his courage in undertaking it,added to his anger and disgust. He walked moodily up and down thequarterdeck all the afternoon, to think the matter over, and at eachmoment his fury increased. Could he in any way have put a stop to theadventure, he would instantly have done so, but there was no possibleway of interfering.

  The thought that annoyed him most was of the enthusiasm with which thenews of the successful termination of the enterprise would be receivedat Sidmouth. Already, as he knew, Aggie regarded James as a hero, andthe squire was almost as proud of his mention in despatches as if hehad been his own son; but for this he cared but little. It was Aggie'sgood opinion Richard Horton desired to gain. James Walsham stillthought of her as the girl of twelve he had last seen, but RichardHorton knew her as almost a woman, and, although at first he hadresolved to marry her as his uncle's heiress, he now really cared forher for herself.

  On the visit before James had left home, Richard had felt certain thathis cousin liked him; but, since that time, he had not only made noprogress, but he felt that he had lost rather than gained ground. Thegirl was always friendly with him, but it was the cool friendliness ofa cousin, and, somehow, Richard instinctively felt James Walsham wasthe cause.

  In vain he had angrily told himself that it was absurd to suppose thathis cousin could care for this fellow, whom she had only seen as anawkward boy, who had been content to stop away from the house, andnever go near her for weeks. Still, though he told himself it wasabsurd, he knew that it was so. When the conversation happened to turnupon James, she seldom took any part in it; but Richard knew that itwas not from indifference as to the subject. There was a soft flush onher cheek, a light in her eyes, which he had never been able to callup; and, many a time, he had ground his teeth in silent rage, when thesquire and Mr. Wilks were discussing the news received in James's lastletter, and expressing their hopes that, ere long, he would be backfrom foreign service.

  Although by no means fond of encountering danger, Richard felt that hewould gladly pick an open quarrel with the man he regarded as hisrival, and shoot him like a dog--for in those days, duels were mattersof everyday occurrence--but there was no possibility of doing this, atthe present juncture; and, moreover, he knew that this would be theworst possible way of ridding himself of him; for, were James to fallby his hands, his chances of winning Aggie would be hopelesslyextinguished.

  "No," he said to himself, "that is out of the question; but I will dosomething. Come what may, he shall never go back to Sidmouth."

  The squadron drifted up beyond Cap Rouge, and anchored, at the top ofthe flood, an hour before daybreak. The gig was lowered, and JamesWalsham, amid many good wishes and hearty farewells from the officers,took his place in her, by the side of the midshipman.

  "Look out for my signal," he said. "Any time, after today, you may seeit."

  "We will see it if you make it, my boy," said the captain, who had comeon deck to see him off. "Don't you fear about that. If you make yoursignal, you may rely upon it, our boat will be ashore for you thatnight."

  Another moment, and the boat pulled away from the side of the ship.

  "Take it easy, lads," young Middleton said, "only just dip your oars inthe water. We have but three miles to row, with the stream, and don'twant to be there till the day begins to show."

  The oars had been muffled, and, noiselessly, the boat dropped down thestream, until she neared Cap Rouge, then they rowed in towards theFrench shore. The day was just beginning to break, in the east, as theyneared the spot where the French camp was situated. It stood high up onthe plateau; but there were a small number of tents on the low ground,by the river, as some batteries had been erected here. They were buttwo hundred yards from the shore when a French sentry challenged. Theygave no answer, and the soldier at once fired.

  "Keep about this distance out," James ordered. "Row quietly. I willstand up, as if I were watching the shore."

  As soon as the shot was fired, it was answered by shots from othersentries. A minute later, a drum was heard to beat sharply, and then,in the faint light, a number of French soldiers could be seen, runningat full speed towards the shore. The shots fell thickly round the boat,and one of the men dropped his oar, as a bullet struck him on theshoulder.

  "Pull out the plugs," James said.

  The oakum was pulled out and thrown overboard, and the water rushed in.

  "Now turn her head from the shore, as if we were trying to escape."

  So rapidly did the water rush in t
hrough the four holes that, in aminute, the gunwale was nearly level with the water.

  "Turn her over now," James said, and in a moment the boat was upset,and the men clinging to the bottom.

  A shout of exultation rose from the shore, as the boat was seen toupset, and the firing at once ceased.

  "Swim towards the shore, and push the boat before you," the youngmidshipman said. "They won't fire any more now, and we have finishedthe first part of our business."

  Pushing the boat before them, the men made their way slowly towards theshore, striking the land half a mile below the point where they hadoverturned. The French soldiers had followed them down the bank, andsurrounded them as they landed. The holes in the boat explained forthemselves the cause of the disaster.

  An officer stepped forward.

  "You are our prisoners," he said to James.

  The latter bowed.

  "It is the fortune of war," he said. "Your men are better shots than Igave them credit for," and he pointed to the holes in the boat.

  He spoke in English, but the officer guessed his meaning.

  Some of the Indians and Canadians soon came flocking down, and, withangry gestures, demanded that the prisoners should be shot; but theFrench officer waived them off, and placed a strong guard of his ownmen around them, to prevent their being touched by the Indians. Theyoung midshipman spoke French fluently, having been specially selectedby the captain for that reason; but it had been agreed, between him andJames, that he should not betray his knowledge of the language, as hemight, thereby, pick up information which might be useful.

  They were at once conducted before Bougainville.

  "Do you speak French?" he asked.

  James shook his head. The midshipman looked as if he had not understoodthe question.

  "It is clear," the French officer said to those standing around him,"that they came in to reconnoitre the landing place, and thought, inthe dim light, they could run the gauntlet of our sentries' fire. Itwas more accurate than they gave them credit for."

  "The boat was struck twice, you say?"

  "Yes, general," the officer who conducted them into the tent replied."Two balls right through her, and one of the men was hit on theshoulder."

  "The reconnaissance looks as if Wolfe meant to attempt a landing here,"Bougainville said. "We must keep a sharp lookout. I will send them onto Quebec, for the general to question them. He will find someone therewho speaks their language. I will send, at once, to tell him we havecaptured them. But I can't very well do so, till we have a convoygoing, with regulars to guard it. If they were to go in charge ofCanadians, the chances of their arriving alive in Quebec would beslight.

  "Let the sailors be placed in a tent in your lines, Chateaudun, andplace a sentry over them, to see that the Indians don't get at them.The two officers can have the tent that Le Boeuf gave up yesterday. Youcan put a sentry there, but they can go in and out as they like. Thereis no fear of their trying to escape; for, if they once went outsidethe lines of the regulars, the Indians and Canadians would make shortwork of them."

  The officer led James and the midshipman to a tent in the staff lines,whose owner had ridden to Quebec, on the previous night, withdespatches, and motioned to them that it was to be theirs. He also madesigns to them that they could move about as they chose; butsignificantly warned them, by a gesture, that if they ventured beyondthe tents, the Indians would make short work of them.

  For a time, the prisoners made no attempt to leave the tent, for theIndians stood scowling at a short distance off, and would have entered,had not the sentry on duty prevented them from doing so.

  "Do not talk too loudly," James said. "It is probable that, in a camplike this, there is someone who understands English. Very likely theyare playing the same game with us that we are with them. They pretendthere is no one who can speak to us; but, very likely, there may besomeone standing outside now, trying to listen to what we say."

  Then, raising his voice he went on:

  "What abominable luck I have! Who could have reckoned upon the boatbeing hit, twice, at that distance? I thought we had fairly succeeded.The general will be in a nice way, when he finds we don't come back."

  "Yes," Middleton rejoined, "and to think that we are likely to spendthe winter in prison, at Quebec, instead of Old England. I am halfinclined to try and escape!"

  "Nonsense!" James replied. "It would be madness to think of such athing. These Indians can see in the dark, and the moment you put yourfoot outside the lines of these French regulars, you would be carriedoff and scalped. No, no, my boy; that would be simply throwing away ourlives. There is nothing for it, but to wait quietly, till either Wolfetakes Quebec, or you are exchanged."

  The prisoners were treated with courtesy by the French officers, andcomfortable meals were provided. In the evening, they went outside thetent for a short time, but did not venture to go far, for Indians werestill moving about, and the hostile glances, which they threw at theprisoners, were sufficient to indicate what would happen to the latter,if they were caught beyond the protection of the sentry.

  "Bougainville was right in supposing that prisoners would not be likelyto attempt to escape," James said, in a low voice. "The look of thoseIndians would be quite sufficient to prevent anyone from attempting it,under ordinary circumstances. It is well that my business will take medown the river towards Quebec, while they will make sure that I shallhave made up the river, with a view of making my way off to the ships,the next time they go up above Cap Rouge."

  "It will be risky work getting through them," the midshipman remarked;"but all the same, I wish I was going with you, instead of having tostick here in prison."

  "It would be running too great a risk of spoiling my chance ofsuccess," James said. "I am accustomed to the redskins, and can crawlthrough them as noiselessly as they could themselves. Besides, one canhide where two could not. I only hope that, when they find I have gone,they won't take it into their heads to revenge my escape upon you."

  "There is no fear of that," the midshipman said. "I shall be soundasleep in the tent, and when they wake me up, and find you are gone, Ishall make a tremendous fuss, and pretend to be most indignant that youhave deserted me."

  The two prisoners had eaten but little of the meals served to them thatday, putting the greater portion aside, and hiding it in the strawwhich served for their beds, in order that James might take with him asupply, for it might be three or four days before he could be taken offby the ships' boats.

  "I suppose you won't go very far tonight?" the midshipman said,suddenly.

  "No," James replied. "I shall hide somewhere along the face of thecliff, a mile or so away. They are not likely to look for me down theriver at all; but, if they do, they will think I have gone as far as Ican away, and the nearer I am to this place, the safer."

  "Look here," the midshipman said. "I am going strictly to obey orders;but, at the same time, it is just possible that something may turn upthat you ought to know, or that might make me want to bolt. Suppose,for instance, I heard them say that they meant to shoot us both in themorning--it's not likely, you know; still, it's always as well to beprepared for whatever might happen--if so, I should crawl out of camp,and make my way along after you. And if so, I shall walk along theedge, and sometimes give two little whistles like this; and, if youhear me, you answer me."

  "Don't be foolish, Middleton," James said seriously. "You would onlyrisk your life, and mine, by any nonsense of that sort. There can't beany possible reason why you should want to go away. You have undertakento carry this out, knowing that you would have, perhaps, to remain aprisoner for some time; and having undertaken it, you must keep to theplans laid down."

  "But I am going to, Captain Walsham. Still, you know, something mightturn up."

  "I don't see that anything possibly could turn up," James insisted;"but, if at any future time you do think of any mad-brained attempt ofescaping, you must take off your shoes, and you must put your footdown, each time, as gently as if the gro
und were covered with nails;for, if you were to tread upon a twig, and there were an Indian withinhalf a mile of you, he would hear it crack. But don't you attempt anysuch folly. No good could possibly come of it, and you would be sure tofall into the hands of the savages or Canadians; and you know how theytreat prisoners."

  "I know," the boy said; "and I have no wish to have my scalp hanging upin any of their wigwams."

  It was midnight, before the camp was perfectly still, and then JamesWalsham quietly loosened one of the pegs of the canvas, at the back ofthe tent, and, with a warm grasp of the midshipman's hand, crawled out.The lad listened attentively, but he could not hear the slightestsound. The sentinel was striding up and down in front of the tent,humming the air of a French song as he walked. Half an hour passedwithout the slightest stir, and the midshipman was sure that James was,by this time, safely beyond the enemy's camp.

  He was just about to compose himself to sleep, when he heard atrampling of feet. The sentry challenged, the password was given, andthe party passed on towards the general's tent. It was some thirtyyards distant, and the sentry posted there challenged.

  "I wonder what's up?" the midshipman said to himself; and, lifting thecanvas, he put his head out where James had crawled through.

  The men had halted before the general's tent, and the boy heard thegeneral's voice, from inside the tent, ask sharply, "What is it?"

  "I regret to disturb you, Monsieur le General; but we have here one ofthe Canadian pilots, who has swam ashore from the enemy's fleet higherup the river, and who has important news for you."

  The midshipman at once determined to hear what passed. He had alreadytaken off his shoes; and he now crawled out from the tent, and, movingwith extreme caution, made his way round to the back of the general'stent, just as the latter, having thrown on his coat and lighted acandle, unfastened the entrance. The midshipman, determined to see aswell as hear what was going on, lifted up the flap a few inches behind,and, as he lay on the ground, peered in. A French officer had justentered, and he was followed by a Canadian, whom the midshipmanrecognized at once, as being the one who piloted the Sutherland up anddown the river.

  "Where do you come from?" Bougainville asked.

  "I swam ashore two hours ago from the English ship Sutherland," theCanadian said.

  "How did you manage to escape?"

  "I would have swam ashore long ago, but at night I have always beenlocked up, ever since I was captured, in a cabin below. Tonight thedoor opened quietly, and someone came in and said:

  "'Hush!--can you swim?'

  "'Like a fish,' I said.

  "'Are you ready to try and escape, if I give you the chance?'

  "'I should think so,' I replied.

  "'Then follow me, but don't make the slightest noise.'

  "I followed him. We passed along the main deck, where the sailors wereall asleep in their hammocks. A lantern was burning here, and I saw, byits light, that my conductor was an officer. He led me along till weentered a cabin--his own, I suppose.

  "'Look,' he whispered, 'there is a rope from the porthole down to thewater. If you slide quietly down by it, and then let yourself drifttill you are well astern of the ship, the sentry on the quarterdeckwill not see you. Here is a letter, put it in your cap. If you arefired at, and a boat is lowered to catch you, throw the paper away atonce. Will you swear to do that?'

  "I said I would swear by the Virgin.

  "'Very well,' he went on; 'if you get away safely and swim to shore,make your way without a minute's delay to the French camp at Cap Rouge,and give this letter to the general. It is a matter of the most extremeimportance.'

  "This is the letter, general."

  He handed a small piece of paper, tightly folded up, to Bougainville,who opened it, and read it by the light of the candle.

  He gave a sharp exclamation.

  "Quick!" he exclaimed. "Come along to the tent of the prisoners. I amwarned that the capture was a ruse, and that the military officer is aspy, whose object here is to discover a landing place. He is to escapethe first opportunity."

  The three men at once ran out from the tent. The instant they did so,the midshipman crawled in under the flap, rushed to the table on whichthe general had thrown the piece of paper, seized it, and then dartedout again, and stole quietly away in the darkness. He had not gonetwenty yards, when a volley of angry exclamations told him that theFrench general had discovered that the tent was empty.

  The night was a dark one, and to prevent himself from falling over tentropes, the midshipman threw himself down and crawled along on his handsand knees, but he paused, before he had gone many yards, and listenedintently. The general was returning to his tent.

  "It is no use doing anything tonight," he said. "Even an Indian couldnot follow the track of a waggon. At daybreak, Major Dorsay, let theredskins know that the prisoners have escaped, and offer a reward offifty crowns for their recapture, dead or alive--I care not which. Letthis good fellow turn in at the guard tent. I will talk to him in themorning. Good night!"

  The midshipman kept his eyes anxiously on the dim light that could befaintly seen through the tent. If the general missed the paper, hemight guess that it had been taken by the fugitives, and might order aninstant search of the camp. He gave a sigh of relief, when he saw thelight disappear the moment the French officer had entered the tent, andthen crawled away through the camp.