The Tory Maid
CHAPTER XVIII
THE CROSSING OF SWORDS
Sunrise, two days later, found Mr. Richard Ringgold and myselfstamping our feet in the snow on the pike, half-way between thehostile lines.
"I suppose they will let us fight here without interruption," saidDick.
"No danger from that," I replied. "We will fight in that littlehollow, where the outposts cannot see us."
"Here they come," said Dick. We saw two officers approaching acrossthe snow from the Highland outpost.
They soon came up, and we saluted, while Dick and Captain Forbes,Farquharson's second, soon agreed upon the preliminaries.
"Will you lead the way, gentlemen?" said Forbes.
Dick and I led them to the little hollow between the hills, where aslight meadow formed a platform, as it were, for us to act our dramaupon.
Since my first duel with Rodolph on the banks of the Elk I had seensomething of war and of battles, and considered myself an old hand insuch encounters.
And so I found myself looking Farquharson over and estimating hisstrength and his skill, for I knew him to be one of the best swordsmenamong the Highlanders, while I could claim, with all due modesty, tobe the best in the Maryland Line.
He was a notable swordsman, you could see that at a glance; thepowerful figure, yet as light and active as a cat, the muscles of hissword arm telling of long and patient handling of the weapon, whilehis cold gray eye spoke for his coolness and determination.
He glanced at me, as we threw off our coats, in almost an indifferentmanner, as if he had a duty to perform, which was to be done asquickly as possible, the mere suppression of a country bumpkin by agentleman of fashion. I knew that would change as soon as our swordscrossed, and smiled to myself. Then, being stripped to our shirts, wetook our places and saluted.
Click, and our swords rang true. Though he fenced somewhat carelesslyat first, there came a surprised look and a sudden change in hismanner, as I parried a skilful thrust and touched him lightly on theshoulder. He seemed to realise that he had no ordinary swordsmanopposed to him, and quickly brought into play all his skill andfierceness in attack, throwing me on the defensive and forcing megradually back.
It could not last; no strength could stand it. When he found that thesteel guard met every attack, that every thrust was parried, herelaxed the fierceness of his attack and began to fence with moreskill and caution.
Thus it was we fenced for several minutes, the clash of the steelringing out in the cold, crisp air across the snow, and it came to myopponent that he had at last met a swordsman who was his equal inskill. From this on every moment he developed some new feint, some newattack, and, though I met them every one, it took my utmost skill todo so.
But at last there came the end. He had assumed the offensive again andwas pressing hard upon me, when he placed his foot upon a loose stonein the snow, which rolled. The sword flew from out his hand and hewas down upon his knee.
My sword was at his throat, and then my hand was stayed, for therecame before me the vision of the Tory maid, standing with face avertedin the square brick house in the city. That she might care, that shemight be in terror then as to the fate that might befall him, flashedthrough my brain. I brought my sword to a salute, and returned it toits scabbard.
"Sir," said I, as Farquharson rose, "it is a pleasure to have foughtwith so gallant a gentleman."
"And I, sir," he returned, "am happy to have met so skilful aswordsman." And then, like gallant men who have fought and know eachother's worth, we shook hands on the spot where a moment before ourblades were thirsting for each other's blood.
"It gives me pleasure," he continued, "to withdraw my remarks atColonel Gordon's, as they arose from a misapprehension."
"I will consider them as if they had never been said," I replied, "andI beg of you, on your return, to present my compliments to MistressGordon, and tell her that I send you to her as my wedding gift."
"Why, is she to be married?" he asked in a startled way.
"I believe so," I answered, "but she will tell you all about it."
And so we returned to the pike, where we all saluted again, andretraced our steps to the lines.
The spring was late that year. April had come before there came a softwarm breeze from the Southland, waking nature into life, and coveringthe hard frozen face of mother earth with wreaths and clouds of mistand moisture. From every hillside, from every frost-bound plain, thesmoke of spring arose, and through the air there breathed the spiritof the reincarnated life of the world.
How we of the Southland hailed it with joy, and drank in with ourlungs this promise of a new life! We who loved the sunshine and thebalmy breezes, the great joy of living amid fragrant fields andgreen-clad forests, we who hated the storms, the wind and cold of theNorth,--ah, how the blood in our veins welcomed this soft caress ofthe South! We threw off the terror of the winter, looked forward withglee to the opening of the spring campaign, and counted inanticipation the honours we were to win, the glory that would be ours.
New life sprang up all through the camp; the troops left the busy dutyof hugging the fires, the ranks filled up, and order and disciplineonce more became the order of the day.
Rumours soon came creeping through the lines of a change in theleadership of the enemy's forces, but as yet they lay quietly withinthe city and showed not the teeth of offence. Thus we lay on the greenhillsides of Valley Forge, busily preparing for the struggle which wascertain to come, until far into the spring, without a sign of amovement on the part of the enemy.
But with May came their new Commander-in-Chief, Sir Henry Clinton, andthe departure of Lord Howe, and we knew that the time had at last comewhen some bold stroke would be played in the game of war.
The gaps in our ranks had been somewhat filled, and we were ready andeager for active service as soon as the great General would give thecommand.
At last came rumours of a retreat, that the English were preparing todesert the city and march across the plains of Jersey to where NewYork lay, sheltered by the waters of the sea and the rivers. Wemarched toward the Delaware to be ready to strike them when theymoved.
So, one day, as I stood on the outpost, guarding the nearest road tothe city, I saw Jones approaching at full speed on an old horse, whichhe had evidently borrowed. I was ready for his news.
"The British are crossing the Delaware; we will catch them in Jerseynow or never," he cried, and then he had dashed past on his way toheadquarters.
My little guard received the news with a yell, and we looked forwardeagerly for the order to join our regiment on the march.
It was not long in coming, and on that night, the 18th of June, wecrossed the Delaware, and started on the race across Jersey that wasto end at Monmouth.