CHAPTER VII
THE ONE HOPE
As he stopped and faced about, I as instantly halted.
"Perhaps this spot may satisfy your requirements," he said sarcastically."'Tis far enough away at least, and the light is not so bad."
"It will do," I replied, and threw my scarlet jacket on the grass. "Stripto the white, sir, and then we can see fairly well where to strike.That's better. On guard!"
Neither of us had mentioned the lady, preferring to base our quarrel onother grounds, yet I fully comprehended that some unreasonable jealousyon his part had led up to all this. Whatever the relations between themmight be, his desires were clear enough, as well as his methods forkeeping others away. This knowledge merely nerved me to steadiness; shewould hear of it all later and understand. The fellow's right to resentthe small attentions I had shown to Mistress Mortimer I questionedgreatly--she had plainly enough denied the existence of any relationshipbetween them other than family friendship,--and I meant to teach thisloyalist bully that I was not the sort to be driven away by loud words,or the flash of a sword.
He came at me fiercely enough, confident of his mastery of the weapon,and, no doubt, expecting me to prove an easy victim of his skill. Hisfirst onslaught, a trick thrust under my guard, caused me to give back astep or two, and this small success yielded him the over-confidence Ialways prefer that an opponent have. I was young, agile, cool-headed,instructed since early boyhood by my father, a rather famous swordsman,in the mysteries of the game, yet I preferred that Grant should deem me anovice. With this in mind, and in order that I might better study theman's style, I remained strictly on defence, giving way slightly beforethe confident play of his steel, content with barely turning aside thegleaming point before it pricked me. At first he mistook this forweakness, sneering at my parries, as he bore in with increasingrecklessness.
"A club would be more in your line, I take it, Mr. Lieutenant Fortesque,"he commented sarcastically, "but I'll play with you a while forpractice--ah! that was a lucky turn of the wrist! So you do know a trickor two? Perhaps you have a parry for that thrust as well! Ah! an inchmore and I'd have pricked you--your defence is not bad for a boy! By allthe gods, I tasted blood then--now I'll give you a harder nut to crack!"
I was fighting silently, with lips closed, husbanding my breath, scarcelyhearing his comments. Every stroke, every thrust, gave me insight of hisschool, and instinctively my blade leaped forth to turn aside his point.He was a swordsman, stronger than I, and of longer reach, yet his trickswere old, and he relied more on strength than subtlety of fence. Ourswords gleamed against each other in the glitter of the stars, bothcontent with thrust and parry, as we circled, watchful for some opening.Then, confident I had gauged my man, I began to drive in upon him,returning thrust for thrust, and trying a trick or two of my own. Hecountered with skill, laughing and taunting me, until his jeers made mefight grimly, with fresh determination to end the affair.
"By God! you have a right pretty thrust from the shoulder," he exclaimed."Been out before, I take it. But I'll show you something you neverlearned. Odds, I'll call your boy's play!"
"Better hold your breath, for you'll need it now," I replied shortly."The boy's play is over with."
Step by step I began sternly to force the fighting, driving my pointagainst him so relentlessly as to hush his speech. Twice we circled,striking, countering, fighting, our blades glittering ominously in thestarlight, our breathing labored with the fierceness of the fighting.Both our swords tasted blood, he slicing my forearm, I piercing hisshoulder, yet neither wound sufficed to bring any cessation of effort. Wewere mad now with the fever of it, and struggling to kill, pantingfiercely, our faces flushed, the perspiration dripping from our bodies,our swords darting swiftly back and forth. He was my match, and more,and, had we been permitted to go on to the end, would have worn me downby sheer strength. Suddenly, above the clash of steel, came the sound ofvoices; our blades were struck up, and the dark forms of men pressed inbetween us.
"Stop it, you hotheads!" some one commanded gruffly. "Hold your man,Tolston, until I get at the reason for this fighting. Who are you? Oh,Grant! What's the trouble now? The old thing, eh?"
I had no desire to wait his answer, confident that Grant was sufficientlyangry to blurt out everything he knew. They were all facing his way,actuated by the recognition. Breathless still, yet quick to seize the oneand only chance left, I grabbed up my jacket from the grass, and spranginto the darkness. I had gained a hundred feet before those behindgrasped the meaning of my unexpected flight, and then the tumult ofvoices only sent me flying faster, realizing the pursuit. The only openpassage led directly toward the river, and I raced through the blacknight down the slope as though all the fiends of hell were after me. Iheard shouts, oaths, but there was no firing, and was far enough ahead tobe invisible by the time I attained the bank. An open barge lay there, amere black smudge, and I stumbled blindly across this, dropping silentlyover its side into the water. It was not thought, but breathlessinability to attempt more, which kept me there, clinging to a slat on theside of the barge, so completely submerged in the river, as to beinvisible from above. Swearing fiercely, my pursuers stormed over thebarge, swinging their swords along the edges to be sure I was not there.One blade pricked me slightly, but I held on, sinking yet deeper into thestream. I could see the dim outline of heads peering over, but was notdiscovered. The same gruff voice which had interrupted the duel brokethrough the noise:
"I tell you he turned to the left; I saw him plainly enough. What did yousay the fellow's name was, Grant?"
"How do I know? He called himself Fortesque."
"Sure; the same one Carter was sent out hunting after. Well, he dodgeddown there among those coal sheds. That is the only way he could havedisappeared so suddenly. Come on, all of you, except Moore and Cartaret,and we'll beat the shore."
I heard them scramble across to the bank, but there were sounds alsoproving the guards left behind were still on the deck above me. Then oneof the fellows sat down on the edge of the barge, his feet danglingwithin a few inches of my head.
"Might as well take it easy, Bill," he said lazily. "They 're like to bean hour layin' hands on the lad, an' all we got to do is see he don't foxback this way. Got any tobacco, mate?"
The other must have produced the necessary weed, for there was a scrapingof flint and steel, a gleam of fire glinting on the water, and then thepungent odor wafted to me in puff of smoke. With one hand, I unbuckled mysword belt, letting it, sword and all, sink silently into the river. Imust cross to the opposite bank somehow, and would have to dispense withthe weapon. Inch by inch, my fingers gripping the narrow slat to which Iclung, I worked slowly toward the stern of the barge, making not so muchas a ripple in the water, and keeping well hidden below the bulge of theside. The voices above droned along in conversation, of which I caught afew words.
"Who was he? You mean the lad they're after down yonder? Oh, I mind now,you came up late after we'd started the chase. Holy Mother, I don't knowmuch myself, now I come to think of it. He looked like a Britisher, whatI saw of him, an' he was fightin' with a Captain of Rangers--Grant wasthe name; maybe you know the man?--behind one of the stands. Old Hollisheard the clash of the steel; an' he called to us, an' the whole bunchstarted on a run. It was too dark to see much, but we jumped in an'pulled 'em apart, never once thinkin' it was more than two young hotheadsdoin' a little blood-lettin'. Then this chap turned an' run for it,trippin' up Sandy McPherson to get clear, and we after him. Somebody saidhe was a spy, an' that's the whole I know about it."
"They'll never get him," returned the other solemnly.
"An' why do you think that, man? Sure, an' they're searchin' the shoreboth ways, an' Carter has got his fellers ridin' the outposts. To my mindhe hasn't the chance of a rat in a trap, the poor devil."
Bill blew a cloud of smoke into the air, which a puff of wind swept downinto my face.
"Because it's my notion he swum for it. I was closest down the bank, an'somethin' h
it the water. I'm dead sure o' that, though I didn't see thefirst thing. It's my guess the lad dived, an' never come up agin 'till hewas out there in them shadows."
"But them's the Jerseys over yonder; if he was a spy he'd be headin' theother way."
"It's little he'd think of the way with the gang of us yelpin' at hisheels. Besides, there's plenty of his kind over in those Jerseys who'dtake good care of the likes of him. Was ye ever foragin' over there,lad?"
The other grunted, and the speaker went on steadily.
"They take pot shots at ye from every bit o' woods, or stone wall. They'resure devils for that kind o' skirmishin' work. God pity the men orderedout into them parts."
"But there's a guard, stationed across yonder."
"Pish, a corporal's squad, just about opposite at the ferry landin', an'a company of Yagers down at Gloucester. There's plenty room between for abold lad to find free passage."
The two fell silent, staring out over the water. They had set methinking, however, and this knowledge of where the British pickets werestationed was exactly the information I most required. I had no desire tocross the Delaware, yet apparently in that direction lay the onlyremaining avenue of escape. I could no longer hope to get away either tonorth or west--every picket post along those lines would be instructed towatch out for me 'ere this. My uniform would be no protection, and,without a horse, my early apprehension was almost a certainty. My soleapparent chance lay in the Jerseys, and I must reach the opposite shore,and attain cover before daylight. To my mind there was no reason why thiscould not be accomplished. The swimming of the river was not beyond mypower; I could float down under water for a hundred yards, and then,concealed by the night, strike out for the eastern shore. The currentmight sweep me down stream another hundred yards before my feet touchedbottom. That ought to bring me to a comparatively safe spot, where Icould crawl ashore unobserved. What was awaiting me there in the darkcould not be reckoned; but surely no graver danger than what alreadymenaced me here. I knew the Jerseys, and that now, with the maincontending armies withdrawn, all that country from the Delaware to thesea was overrun by small parties of partisans, more intent upon plunderthan any loyalty to either side. To pass through between these bands waslikely to prove a desperate venture enough, yet it seemed the only choiceremaining.
At the lower end of the float I managed to silently remove my boots, andthen waited, listening to the movements of the men above. I must haveclung there ten minutes, expecting every moment the party scouring theshore would return, yet not daring to make the venture with those fellowssitting there, and silently gazing out across the water. At last I heardthem get to their feet, and tramp about on the flat deck of the barge,the low murmur of their voices reaching me, although words wereindistinguishable. I could hope for no better time. Filling my lungs withair, I sank below the surface of the river, and then, rising, struckboldly out into the full sweep of the current.