CHAPTER XX
IN THE LINES OF THE ENEMY
It was near the end of the first watch when an order came to me topick out several men, go forward, feel the enemy's outposts, and seeif the enemy was still retreating.
Making my choice, I passed our pickets with three men, and made my waycautiously to the last pass in the hills which was in the enemy'spossession at nightfall. But not a sign of their pickets or troopscould I find; so I boldly advanced in the pass, and, crossing theridge, found myself on the heights overlooking Freehold. It was asmall town of scattered houses, and beyond it I could see the lightsof the British camp-fires.
But as the heights were not near enough for our purpose, we descendedinto the plain, and carefully made our way toward the town, where Iknew certain patriots were, who, if I could once get speech with them,would tell me the whole plans of the enemy.
We could hear the tramp of feet at the further side of the village,and all the sounds of an army in retreat. Being now so close to them,and in great danger, we moved with the utmost caution. Near at hand,on the outskirts of the town, stood a large, square stone house,separated from the rest of the houses by an immense garden. Havingfound a break in the hedge, we entered.
It was an old garden, filled with boxwood walks and flowers run wild.Very prim at one time it must have been; but, now that the war hadhelped the return to nature, it was a wild and tangled mass.
Making our way through the garden, a light was suddenly thrown uponour path, and, glancing up, I saw that it came from a window which,though it was on the first floor of the house, was yet some distancefrom the ground.
Then the figure of a woman crossed the window, stopping for a momentto look out, while we stood in the shadow of the hedge, holding ourbreath. But she passed on, and I, determining to see into the room todiscover whether it contained friend or foe, quickly gained theshelter of the wall of the house. The wall was of rough hewn stone,and with the help of my comrades' shoulders, I raised myself highenough to glance over the window-sill, and what I saw there made medrop to the ground quickly.
Then, whispering to my comrades to stay where they were, I made my wayto the rear entrance of the house, and, finding the door unfastened,softly entered the hall; and then I was standing in the door of theroom from which the light came.
A lamp stood on a table near a long horse-hair sofa with spindle legs,on which lay the figure of a man. The coat had been cut from hisshoulder, which was swathed in many bandages, while the blood-stainedrags on the table and the floor told of the seriousness of the wound.
A slender figure was bending over him, gently arranging a pillow underhis head.
"Do you feel easier now, father?"
"Yes, lassie." Then, a moment later, "Why does not Clinton send me acarriage? He surely does not intend to desert me here."
"Captain Farquharson is searching for one," she answered. And thenturning to the table, she saw me standing in the doorway. The colourleft her face; she gave a little cry, for she thought there were manymen behind me, and that all was lost. So, quickly putting my finger tomy lips, I stepped back into the darkness of the hall, and as I didso, I heard the old Tory ask, "What's that?"
"It was nothing," she answered. "I thought I saw a ghost."
I stood there in the broad window waiting, for I knew she would come.
Below me was the garden, heavy-scented with the odour of flowers, andthe hum of the night insects was everywhere in the air. Close to thewall I saw the figures of my scouts. The noise of the tramp of feet,the creak of waggons, and the voice of command came to me from thevillage street.
At last she came and stood before me. In her eyes were great pain andfear and suffering.
"Tell me," she asked anxiously, "is there any danger for him?"
"More danger for me than for him," I replied. "The whole Americanadvance guard consists of three men and myself; the rest will followin the morning."
"Ah," she cried, and there was hope once more in her voice; "then wecan escape."
"If you can move your father by sunrise, yes," I replied.
"But you," she said, and there was new anxiety in her voice; "you arein great danger here. When the soldiers come to remove father theywill take you prisoner."
"I care not, Mistress Jean," I answered, "for your eyes have held meprisoner for many a long day, and all the prison bars in the world arenothing to me so long as I can look into them."
"Nay," she said, "you must not say such things to me."
And I, taking this as a confirmation of all my fears and that at lastFarquharson had succeeded in his suit, would have bade her good-byeand gone my way. But before I went I told her of my wishes for herhappiness, and that I had met Farquharson and knew of his skill andcourage.
"Farquharson?" and her eyes were wide open in surprise. "I reallybelieve you think I am going to marry him;" and she laughed so softly,bewitchingly, that--
"Jean, Jean," I cried, now that hope and life had come back with arush, "Jean, do you know that I love you; that I love the very groundon which you walk, the sunbeams in your hair, the very air youbreathe? Ah! Jean--" But at that moment came the voice of the Torycalling her and the tramp of feet on the porch.
"Let me go," she cried, for I held her hands in mine; "and fly,--thatis the guard."
"Nay," said I, "not till you give me a kiss. I will stay here and becaptured first."
There was a moment's hesitation, and then a flash of white arms, andthe softest caress--ah, such a caress that the memory of it will gowith me to the grave. And then she was gone.
And I, not wishing to be captured now, slipped through the rear doorto my men, and a short time later, having satisfied ourselves of theretreat of the enemy's forces, we made our way back over the hills toreport to the General.
We followed the enemy closely the next day, and did not draw off untilwe saw them beyond our reach at Sandy Hook.
Then we took our way to the Jersey hills, and lay there for a timewatching the enemy in New York.