My Lady of Doubt

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  THE ROAD TO PHILADELPHIA

  It must have been ten o'clock, and, if I had slept at all, I was scarcelyconscious of it. All about me the men lay outstretched upon the ground,still in their shirt-sleeves, as they had fought, their guns beside them.The night was clear and hot, scarcely a breath of air moving. Here andthere against the sky-line passed the dark silhouette of a sentinel.There was no sound of firing, only an occasional footfall to break thesilence of the night. The wounded had been taken to the field hospitalsat the rear; down in our front lay the bodies of the dead, and amongthese shone the dim lights of lanterns where the last searching partieswere yet busy at their grewsome task. I was weary enough to sleep, everymuscle of my body aching with fatigue, but the excitement of the day, thepossibility of the morrow, left me restless. I had received no wound,other than a slight thrust with a bayonet, yet felt as though pummelledfrom head to foot. The victory was ours--the army realized this truthclearly enough; we had repulsed the Red-coats, driven them back withterrible losses; we had seen their lines shrivel up under our fire,officers and men falling, and the remnant fleeing in disorder. It meantnothing now that a force outnumbering us yet remained intact, and instrong position. Flushed with victory, knowing now we could meet the bestof them, we longed for the morrow to dawn so we might complete the task.

  I reviewed the vivid incidents of the day, looking up at the stars, andwondered who among those I knew were yet living, who were dead. I thoughtof others in those lines of the enemy, whom I had known, speculating ontheir fate. Then along our rear came a horseman or two, riding slowly. Asentry halted them, and I arose on one elbow to listen.

  "Lawrence? Yes, sir, Major Lawrence is lying over there by the scruboak."

  I got to my feet, as the first rider approached.

  "This you, Lawrence?" asked a voice I instantly recognized as Hamilton's."You fellows all look alike to-night. Where is your horse, Major?"

  "I have been on foot all day, sir," I answered saluting.

  "Ah, indeed; well, you will have need for a horse to-night. Wainwright,"turning to the man with him, "is your mount fresh?"

  "Appears to be, sir; belonged to a British Dragoon this morning."

  "Let Major Lawrence have him. Major, ride with me."

  We passed back slowly enough toward the rear of the troops, through thefield hospitals, and along the edge of a wood, where a battery ofartillery was encamped. We rode boot to boot, and Hamilton spokeearnestly.

  "The battle is practically won, Lawrence, in spite of Charles Lee," hesaid soberly. "Of course there will be fighting to-morrow, but we shallhave the Red-coats well penned in before daybreak, and have alreadycaptured ammunition enough to make us easy on that score. Poor, and theCarolina men, are over yonder, while Woodford is moving his command tothe left. At dawn we'll crush Clinton into fragments. Washington wants tosend a despatch through to Arnold in Philadelphia, and I recommended you,as you know the road. He remembered your service before, and was kindenough to say you were the very man. You'll go gladly?"

  "I should prefer to lead my own men to-morrow, sir."

  "Pshaw! I doubt if we have more than a skirmish. Sir Henry will see hispredicament fast enough. Then there will be nothing left to do, but guardprisoners."

  "Very well, Colonel; I am ready to serve wherever needed."

  "Of course you are, man. There should not be much danger connected withthis trip, although there will be stragglers in plenty. I'm told thatClinton lost more than three hundred deserters crossing Camden."

  Headquarters were in a single-roomed cabin at the edge of a ravine. Asquad of cavalrymen were in front, their horses tied to a rail fence, butwithin Washington was alone, except for a single aide, writing at a rudetable in the light of a half-dozen candles. He glanced up, greeting uswith a slight inclination of the head.

  "A moment, gentlemen."

  He wrote slowly, as though framing his sentences with care, occasionallyquestioning the aide. Once he paused, and glanced across at Hamilton.

  "Colonel, do you know a Dragoon named Mortimer?"

  "I have no recollection of ever having met the man, sir. I have writtenhim orders, however; he is a scout attached to General Lee'sheadquarters."

  "Yes; I recall the name. He is the one who brought us our first definiteinformation this morning of Clinton's position. I remember now, you werenot with me when he rode up--young, slender lad, with the face of a girl.I could but notice his eyes; they were as soft and blue as violets! Well,an hour ago he came here for a favor; it seems the boy is a son ofColonel Mortimer, of the Queen's Rangers."

  "Indeed; Wayne reported the Colonel killed in front of his lines."

  "Not killed, but seriously wounded. The son asked permission to take himhome to a place called Elmhurst near Laurel Hill."

  "I know the plantation, sir," I said, my interest causing me tointerrupt. "It is on the Medford road."

  "Ah, you have met the lad, possibly, Major," and he turned his facetoward me. "The boy interested me greatly."

  "No, sir; I endeavored to find him at Lee's headquarters, but failed. Ihave met his father and sister."

  "A lovely girl, no doubt."

  "To my mind, yes, sir."

  His grave face lighted with a sudden smile.

  "I sometimes imagine, Colonel Hamilton," he said quietly, "that thisunhappy war might be very pleasantly concluded if we could only turn ouryoung officers over to the ladies of the enemy. Would such a plan meetwith your approval, Major?"

  "I should prefer it to the present method."

  "No doubt, and Mistress Mortimer?--But let that pass, until we holdcouncil of war upon the subject. Just now we shall have to be contentwith the more ordinary plans of campaign. I gave the boy permission toremove his father, and they are upon the road ere this. I would that allthe British wounded had homes close at hand. You have informed the Majorof his mission, I presume, Hamilton, and there is nothing I need add."

  "He understands clearly, sir."

  "Then I will complete the letter. Be seated, gentlemen."

  He wrote for several minutes steadily, once pausing to consult a map,signed the paper, and enclosed it in another sheet, across which hescratched a line of address.

  "You will deliver this to General Arnold in person, Major; do not sparehorse-flesh. You were in the action to-day?"

  "With Maxwell's Brigade."

  "That was a hard fight along the stone wall; you came out unhurt?"

  "A slight bayonet wound, sir; nothing to incapacitate me from duty."

  "Very well; take ten dragoons as escort. Hamilton will write you anorder. I have told Arnold our victory is practically complete. Clintonmay slip away in the night, for he is a wily old fox, but he has lost hispower to injure us in the Jerseys. I hope to bottle him up beforemorning, so that any retreat will be impossible, but even if he succeedsin getting his army to the transports at Sandy Hook, he has lostprestige, and the victory is ours. Good-bye, Major, and the Lord guardyou on your journey."

  I felt the firm clasp of his hand, the calm, confident glance of his grayeyes, and bowed low, as I left the room. I could scarcely realize thatthis quiet, reserved man could be the raging tornado who that samemorning had ridden up to Lee, blazing with indignation. His verypresence, his evident trust in me, sent me forth upon my long riderenewed in strength of body and purpose, the fatigue of the dayforgotten. Ten minutes later, mounted on a rangy sorrel, my dragoonescort trotting behind, I rode south on the Plainsboro road, as swiftlyas its terrible condition would warrant.

  The evidences of war, the wreckage of battle, were everywhere. Severaltimes we were compelled to leap the stone walls to permit the passage ofmarching troops being hurried to some new position; several batteriespassed us, rumbling grimly through the night, and a squadron of horsegalloped by, the troopers greeting us with shouts of inquiry. The roadwas deeply rutted by heavy wheels, and littered with all manner of_debris_, broken-down wagons, dead horses, accoutrements thrown away, andoccasionally
the body of a man, overlooked by the burial squad. Ourhorses plunged from side to side in fright at the dim objects, snortingwildly, and we were obliged to ride with care, and a tight rein, underthe faint guidance of the stars. For two miles the varied, ceaselessnoises of a huge camp echoed from either side--the cries of men, thehammering of iron, the neighing of horses. Over there to the east, beyondthat gloomy fringe of woods, were the masses of the enemy. Between wherehe rode, skirting their rear, lay our own battle-line, waiting daybreak,and out yonder, protected by the trees, extended the picket posts. Fromthese would occasionally come a red spit of fire, and the dull bark of amusket.

  We passed all this at last, only to discover the narrow road congested bylong trains of commissary and ammunition wagons, every sort of vehicleone could imagine pressed hastily into service--huge Conestogas, greatfarm wagons, creaking horribly, light carts, even family carriages loadedto their tops, drawn by straining horses, mules, or oxen, their driversswearing fiercely. We again took to the fields, but, as there seemed noend to the procession, I turned my horse's head eastward, confident wewere already beyond the British rear-guard, and struck out across countryfor another north and south road. We advanced now at a swift trot, thesound of our horses' hoofs on the soft turf almost the only noise, and,within an hour, came again to parallel fences, and a well travelled road.It was a turnpike, the dust so thick that it rose about us in clouds,and, as we proceeded, we discovered many evidences along the way of apassing army. I reined back my horse to speak with the non-commissionedofficer in charge of the escort, not entirely certain as to mywhereabouts.

  "Do you know this country, sergeant?"

  "A little, sir; we scouted through here last summer, but I'm not a Jerseyman."

  "There have been troops marched along here by all the signs."

  "Yes, sir," respectfully. "The Red-coats, probably on their way toMonmouth; this is the Mount Holly pike."

  As he spoke the map of the region unrolled before my memory. This was theroad running a mile, or so, to the west of Elmhurst. It led as straightas any, toward Philadelphia, but whatever stragglers the British army hadleft behind would be found along here. However, they would probably bescattered fugitives, unwilling to interfere with as strong an armed partyas this of mine. If I was alone it would be safer to turn aside. Then, itwas a strong temptation to me to pass thus close to Elmhurst. It would beafter daylight when we reached there; I might even get a glimpse acrossthe apple orchard of the great white house. Would Claire be there? Itseemed to me quite probable, as Eric was taking the wounded Colonel homefor nursing. The girl's face rose before me against the black night, andmy heart beat fast. When I came back, I would ride to Elmhurst--surelyshe would be there then.

  The sergeant touched my arm.

  "Pardon me, sir, but there are horsemen ahead."

  "Indeed? I was lost in thought, Conroy. Coming this way?"

  "No, sir, they seem to be travelling south slowly. I noticed them firstas we turned the corner back there; I could see outlines against thesky."

  "How large a party? They form merely a lumping shadow to my eyes."

  "Not more than three or four, sir, with a covered rig of some kind.They're halted, now; heard us coming, I reckon."

  I could perceive the little group, but merely as a black smudge. Then amounted figure seemed to detach itself from the darkness, and advancetoward us.

  "Halt your men, sergeant," I said quietly. "I'll ride forward and learnwhat the fellow wants."