CHAPTER XIV.

  LORD GORDON.

  This night in Philadelphia, when the British, after having long heldpossession of the city, had so far progressed in the evacuation thatonly the officers were yet in town, was both a happy and an anxious oneto the inhabitants.

  Those people who had remained true to the American cause rejoiced thattheir friends would soon be in possession of the chosen capital ofthe country, and were looking forward eagerly to the morrow when theContinental forces should enter to take possession of their own oncemore.

  Hundreds of patriots confined in the prisons for no other crime thanthat of loyalty to their country were waiting eagerly for the morningwhen their cell-doors would be unlocked by friends, and they free atlast to render aid to that cause so near their hearts.

  In the homes of the Tories all wore an anxious look; they had spent awinter of gayety, while the representatives of the king held the city,and probably fancied the spirit of freedom would be so thoroughlycrushed that Philadelphia would always be loyal to the Englishgovernment.

  Now they knew that everything was to be changed, and, as in manyinstances, having oppressed their neighbors who favored the strugglefor independence, feared that reprisals would be demanded. Hundreds ofTories--delicately nurtured women, men accustomed to every luxury, andchildren whose every desire had been gratified--were about to followthe army on its march across New Jersey, or, as their means and thepossibility would permit, intended to travel by various conveyance toNew York.

  These last were particularly sad because of the severing of all hometies for an indefinite period--perhaps forever--and to those who wereanxious, as well as to those who were happy, slumber did not come onthis night.

  The happiness and the grief were too great to permit of theunconsciousness of sleep.

  In Mrs. Ball's home, mother and son, reviewing again and again theevents with which the boy had been intimately connected, put off thetime for retiring yet a little longer at each stroke of the clock,until Enoch finally said:

  "It's no use, mother, I can't go to bed. I shouldn't sleep if I tried,and on this night of all others it seems as if we might keep watch."

  "For what purpose, my son?"

  "I don't know. It appears to be a fact that the city will be entirelyevacuated by the enemy in the morning, and yet I can't prevent fearsthat something may happen to change General Clinton's plans. At allevents, Greene will be here at least an hour before daylight, and itis now nearly midnight, therefore why should we make any attempt atsleeping?"

  A knock at the door, loud, quick, and, if such could be, one mightalmost say joyous, and Enoch answered it without hesitation, for hefancied he knew who would demand admittance in such a fashion.

  "Not in bed yet, good people?" and Greene seated himself near thewindow.

  "Enoch was just saying he could not sleep, and proposed that we sit upuntil morning."

  "I venture to say there will be no slumber in nineteen houses out ofevery twenty in the city this night, and yet we who love the causeshould be able to sleep now, if ever."

  "You do not appear to be doing much in that line," Enoch suggested witha smile.

  "Well, no, I am feeling too good just now to want to surrenderconsciousness, even for the sake of a rest. Such an experience as thisdoesn't come more than once in a person's lifetime, and he shouldn'tlose any of the pleasurable sensations. I'll join your vigil as if itwas New Year's eve, and we'll watch the British out and the Americansin."

  Until the time the spy had set to go to the river bank, the threetalked of the disappointments in the past and the hopes for the future,and then Greene and Enoch left the house.

  There were more signs of life on the street, even at this early hour,than when they had entered the city the day previous.

  The citizens who had been faithful to the cause during this longoccupation by the enemy were now coming out in full force to witnesshis departure, and a happy, joyous throng it was.

  "Will General Washington come to-day?" Enoch asked of his companion.

  "No; General Arnold will take possession of the city with a smallforce. We shan't see the commander-in-chief in town until somethingdecisive has been done, according to my way of thinking," answeredGreene.

  "How long are we to stay here?"

  "I shall start for Valley Forge when the last boatload of soldiersputs out from the shore. You will stay until word comes from GeneralDickinson."

  "Do you intend to walk to the farm?"

  "No; I shall have no trouble in borrowing a horse now that our friendsare not afraid of getting into trouble by doing such a service. Here isa good place for us to witness the scene, and on this rising ground theview cannot be shut off from us, however many may be around."

  Greene had halted on the slight elevation of ground a short distancefrom the Middle Ferry, and already could be seen in the streamboatloads of soldiers putting out from the Philadelphia side of theriver, while from each of the landing-places the refugees--men, womenand children--were embarking such portable effects as they would bepermitted to carry on board the vessels lying at anchor.

  The sun had not yet risen; but the adherents of King George werehastening to depart from the soil of Pennsylvania, greatly to thedelight of those who had been so long oppressed.

  Enoch had no desire to talk, and hardly heard what Greene said as hemade several attempts to enter into conversation. The boy's eyes werefixed upon the panorama before him, and he thought of nothing save thefact that the city was being freed from the enemy.

  Until half-past nine he remained thus absorbed in the view, and thena mighty shout went up from the assembled throng--a shout which wasechoed and re-echoed from one end of the city to the other.

  The last boatload, among which was General Knyphausen, had pushed offfrom the shore.

  "It is done at last!" Enoch cried, seizing Greene by both hands.

  "It is indeed, my boy, and we have been permitted to see it all! Itis such a sight as we'll hope never will be repeated on the DelawareRiver. Now I must be off. You will either see me or receive some wordwithin the next twenty-four hours. Be ready to leave home without delaywhen the summons comes, for I should be sadly disappointed if we had abrush with Clinton's men and you were not in it."

  "So should I. Don't forget me when you are with the army."

  "Never fear anything like that. It wouldn't be possible while I waswhere Seth and Jacob could see me. But come, I'm going very nearDrinker's Alley. Walk so far with me; step in for a moment and see ifMrs. Graydon has any message to send her son, for you will meet himshortly, and then, after General Arnold and his men arrive, go home andwait for me or my message."

  Enoch had not broken his fast, but was hardly aware that he neededfood, so great was his joy.

  He acted upon Greene's suggestion, and ten minutes later saw the spyride out of the city at full speed, bound first for the farmhouse,where he would exchange his horse for a fresh one, and then to ValleyForge with the glad tidings.

  On this occasion Enoch did not skulk around to the rear of the housewhen visiting Mrs. Graydon; but walked boldly to the front door,where he knocked with an air of one who is free to do as he chooses,startling Seth's mother not a little, when, his summons being answeredby her servant, he rushed in upon her with the cry:

  "The city is evacuated! The British are gone, and we shall never seethem here again unless they come as prisoners!"

  "Has the army left the city?" Mrs. Graydon asked as if in surprise.

  "Why, yes; didn't you know they were going?"

  "Certainly, I knew the evacuation was for to-day; but it can't be theyhave really gone?"

  "Indeed they have! Greene and I watched the last boatload put offfrom this side. There isn't a single redcoat in town, and before noonGeneral Arnold will be here with a portion of the Continental army. Ourown flag is floating over the city once more!"

  Mrs. Graydon looked so thoroughly perplexed that just for a momentEnoch asked himself if it could be possible she was
in sympathy withthe enemy, and she, noting the look of perplexity on his face, saidwith a smile:

  "You are wondering why I don't rejoice in the good news you havebrought, Enoch; but the truth is that I fear there must be some mistakeabout it, for Lord Gordon hasn't yet come downstairs."

  "Lord Gordon still here!" Enoch cried, now in turn becoming perplexed.

  "Certainly. He very seldom rises early, and last night gave noorders to be called. I supposed that the army wouldn't go away beforeafternoon."

  "But they have gone, and it isn't likely they are to remain atGloucester Point any longer than is necessary. Why, Mrs. Graydon,if Lord Gordon is here an hour from now he will be made prisoner byour troops, and after all he has done for us that would seem like aterrible misfortune."

  "Indeed it would, Enoch."

  "I am going to waken him regardless of whether he left any ordersor not; but what bothers me is, how we can get him over to theJersey side, for the English took possession of all the boats on theriver-front, and I don't think there's a single craft to be found."

  "Even though you waken him before our people come I fear for hissafety, Enoch. The British have so oppressed those who were faithfulto the cause that if it is known a member of their army is left behindsomething serious may be done."

  "It is no use to stand here talking. He must get out of town, and thatmighty quick! Where's his room?"

  "The one directly over this."

  Enoch did not hesitate; darting upstairs at full speed he burst intothe chamber without ceremony, and Lord Cosmo Gordon, springing up inbed, his eyes heavy with slumber, demanded sharply:

  "Who are you, sir? What do you want here?"

  "I am only Enoch Ball, Lord Gordon. You remember me? You remember whenJacob Ludwick and I talked with you about Seth?"

  "Oh, it is you, is it?" the officer said as he sank back upon thepillows. "You appear to be an energetic lad; but I can't say I have anygreat admiration for your manners."

  "But, Lord Gordon, do you know that the Britishers have left the city,and that in a very short time our forces will be here?"

  "The army gone?" and Lord Gordon sprang out of bed very suddenly. "Why,what time is it?"

  "Past ten o'clock."

  "And I have been allowed to sleep while my command has gone over! Thispromises to be serious, my boy!"

  "Serious, sir? I should say it was! After all that has happened I wouldrather a good bit of ill-fortune came to me than that you should betaken prisoner."

  "I should die of mortification if it was known that I, a Britishofficer, lay in bed while my troops marched out of town and left me tobe captured. Lad, you believe I did you a service once?"

  "Indeed you did, sir, and one I can never repay."

  "You can repay it now, and with interest," Lord Gordon said as he beganhurriedly to dress. "I must cross the river at once, and depend uponyou to get me a boat."

  "That is more easily said than done, sir. Your army has takenpossession of every craft on this side; but I'll get one if I have toswim for it. What troubles me is that I may not succeed in time."

  "The American forces are near the city?"

  "Greene said General Arnold would arrive before noon."

  "I'll go with you. We'll both search for a boat. Where is my servant?"

  "I don't know, sir, unless he's with the army."

  "That can't be, my boy. He wouldn't have left me, for--Oh, here youare, Richard," the officer added as a sleepy-looking man enteredthe chamber. "You neglected to awaken me, and I am in a most seriouspredicament."

  "You gave no orders, my lord."

  "You should have had wit enough to know that I intended to march withthe army."

  "But I have just wakened, my lord."

  "And you don't have the appearance of one who has fully accomplishedthat yet. Get my things together as quickly as possible, and go down tothe river. We shall start from the Middle Ferry."

  "But, Lord Gordon, if you set out alone it must be from some place lesspublic than that," Enoch said decidedly. "Remember that our peopleare freed from restraint now, and the temptation of having a Britishofficer in their power might be so great that, if they didn't do realharm, they would at least prevent your leaving."

  "You are right, my lad. I'll grant that you have a better head than Iin this matter, and follow your directions."

  "Then will you please stay here till I come back?"

  "Yes, unless you are gone too long."

  "But you must stay, no matter how long I am gone. I promise faithfullyyou shall be set across the river some time to-day, or night, if youwill remain out of sight; but once you are seen I am afraid the workcannot be done."

  "Do as you will, my lad. I agree to follow your instructions. If yousucceed in your purpose you will repay me tenfold for the slight favorI did your friend."

  "I only hope I shall come somewhere near squaring matters; but inone case a life was saved, and in this it is only a question of youravoiding imprisonment."

  "To be made a prisoner under these circumstances would be worse thandeath. Go, my lad, go quickly!"

  Enoch ran downstairs, and stopped with his hand on the latch of thedoor to say to Mrs. Graydon:

  "Won't you please keep the house locked, and make some excuse for notletting anybody in? The time has come when we can repay Lord Gordon forthe assistance he rendered Seth, and you must do your share by keepinghim out of sight."

  "No person shall enter without first battering down the door," Mrs.Graydon replied with an air of determination, and Enoch darted out ofthe house, running up the alley at full speed.

  Half an hour later he returned, breathless, but triumphant.

  Lord Gordon, looking desperately anxious, met him at the door.

  "I've got a skiff," he said as soon as it was possible for him tospeak. "She's in the creek below Third Street. I can take you therewithout the chance of meeting many people; but we shall be obliged towalk fast, and you must pay no attention to whatever may be said."

  "Don't fear I'll do anything to prevent the success of your efforts,my boy. My rejoining the army at the earliest possible moment is sucha vital matter that nothing short of force would delay me."

  The servant was summoned, and came down the staircase as if stillpartially under the influence of sleep, laden with baggage.

  "Look alive, man, can't you?" Enoch cried angrily as he took a portionof the burden from the fellow. "If nothing else will waken you,remember that your life is absolutely in danger from the time we leavethis house until we are well out in the river."

  These words had the desired effect, and the three, each carrying aportion of the luggage, left the house.

  Enoch chose a most circuitous route, and although his lordship wasjeered at many times during the short journey, nothing occurred tocause delay.

  "She isn't a very fine craft," Enoch said when they reached the bankof the creek and he pulled out from the landing-stage a flat-bottomedboat; "but she'll take you over to the Jersey side, and I reckon that'sall you want."

  "Those who will show themselves to be such idiots as I have should beforced to swim for it," Lord Gordon said grimly, "and the situationnow, compared with what it was half an hour ago, seems so bright thatI wouldn't exchange your punt for one of the swiftest galleys of thefleet, except that I might arrive at the opposite shore more quickly."

  There was only one pair of oars, and seating himself amidships, withRichard in the bow and Lord Gordon in the stern, Enoch plied thesevigorously, as indeed was necessary in order to stem the flood-tide,which was now setting in strongly.

  Nearly an hour was required in which to make the passage, and more thanonce did the officer insist he should be allowed to do a portion of thework; but Enoch would accept of no assistance.

  "I should be only too glad to row you twenty miles, and all thatdistance against the tide, Lord Gordon, for then when I saw Seth Icould say to him that we had been able to be of some service."

  "You do not fully realize, my boy, how much as
sistance you haverendered me. I am under the deepest obligations, and that which I didin your service seems as nothing compared with this, for you have savedmy honor. It is not my intention to offend you by offering payment; butI should be under yet greater obligations if you will allow me to giveyou some souvenir of this morning's work."

  "You mean you want to make me a present?"

  "Yes, Enoch, I want to leave with you something that you will rememberme by--something which when you look at it you can say 'This was givenme by a man to whom I rendered a greater service than if I had savedhis life.'"

  "I will take it, sir, and when I look at it will say to myself that itwas given me by a gentleman who saved the life of my friend."

  "Very neatly turned, my lad. You have a power of flattery which wouldwin your way in a court."

  "I wish I had the power that would win me my way in the Continentalarmy."

  "Are you intending to enlist?"

  "Yes, sir. I do not want to say it boastingly; but yet I am proudbecause the little which I did last week caused General Washingtonhimself to thank me, and to say that I should attach myself to hisstaff until I was really made a soldier."

  "Indeed, my lad? You must have rendered some signal service. Since youno longer fear me as an enemy, for I am not formidable now that I amthe only member of the English army this side of New Jersey, perhapsyou will tell me what you did which won for you so great an honor."

  Enoch, passing lightly over the incidents in which he figuredprominently, told the story of his having been recognized by the Quakerand of subsequently hearing Clinton's order read.

  Lord Gordon laughed heartily at the boy's account of his freeinghimself from the Quaker's grasp; but grew grave as the story wasfinished.

  "With such boys as you, Enoch, to recruit the American army, it islittle wonder that we fail to whip you into submission. I am glad toknow you, my lad, and would say the same even if you had not renderedme so great a service. I venture to predict you will win your way inthe army, for surely no boy ever made a better beginning. I hope weshan't meet on the battlefield; but if we do of course each must strivefor the mastery, and I am confident you will do your best to overcomeme. Here is what I want you to accept," and Lord Gordon unfastened fromhis watch a heavy chain.

  "That is far too valuable, sir. I had rather have something moretrifling."

  "And I prefer to give this. Don't refuse to take it, Enoch, for youwill be doing me another favor by wearing it."

  It was necessary Enoch should cease rowing sufficiently long to putthe costly gift in his pocket, and then he bent himself sturdily to theoars once more, remaining silent several moments before he said:

  "I thank you, Lord Gordon, for the chain; but I thank you more for yourkind words. If all the Britishers had been like you I don't think thiswar would have lasted so long."

  "And if all the Americans had been as generous-hearted and brave asyou, Enoch Ball, your independence would have been gained immediatelyafter it was declared."

  Then the boat's bow grated on the sand of the Jersey shore.

  His lordship's servant gathered up the belongings and proceeded withall haste toward the moving column which could be seen in the distance,and Lord Gordon, pressing Enoch's hand, said solemnly:

  "May God love and guard you, my boy!"[E]

  Footnote:[E] This escape of Lord Cosmo Gordon occurred actually asdescribed, and the gift of the chain was made to the boy who assistedhim.