In Hostile Red Part 21

"That I am here is the proof of it."

"It is true that you are here, but I have an idea, Captain Wildfoot, that you will not go away again."

"Why not?"

"I am hospitable. We need you. Philadelphia needs you."

"I know it, and so I shall come back again."

"No, we wish you to stay with us now."

I should have laughed at this point had not the gag been in my mouth, not at the conversation of Sir William and Wildfoot, but at the funny look on the face of Graves. He had a great sense of dignity and aristocratic importance, and it was hurt by the sudden intrusion of Wildfoot. I said: "Never mind, Graves, it will soon be over," but the words stopped short against that gag, and he did not hear them. I did not even hear them myself. Vivian, on the contrary, was bearing himself like a gentleman. He sat perfectly still, with his eyes either on Sir William or Wildfoot, and so far as I could see, his face was without expression. The three men who accompanied Wildfoot remained standing, but motionless, each with a c.o.c.ked pistol in his hand. One stood with his face turned towards me, but every feature was hidden by a thick, bushy, black beard.

"So I take it, that you have done this thing merely in a spirit of bravado," said Sir William, "and I wish you to understand, Captain Wildfoot, that I thoroughly appreciate your daring. I could wish that you were one of us; in the king's service you would be a colonel at least, and not a mere rebel captain; moreover, your neck would be in no danger."

"But I would be colonel in a losing cause," replied Wildfoot, "and to tell the truth, Sir William, I enjoy my captaincy among the rebels, as you call them, much more than any man enjoys his colonelcy among the king's men. No, Sir William, I am happy where I am; then why seek unhappiness elsewhere?"

"Are you quite sure that you are happy where you are?"

"Quite sure."

"Then it is not worth while to attempt persuasion; but to return to another point, Captain Wildfoot, we value men of your spirit and daring too much to give them up when they come once among us. We must even detain you by other means than persuasion."

"I thank you for the honor, Sir William," said Wildfoot, with a grateful inflection, "but I had formed another plan, somewhat different in manner but similar in the result that you mention."

"May I ask just what you mean?"

"It is not necessary for us to be separated under my plan."

"I do not understand yet."

"I had thought, Sir William, of taking you with me when I left Philadelphia."

The deep red flushed Sir William's swarthy face again. My amazement at Wildfoot's presumption increased, but I remembered the case of the English general Prescott, who had been kidnapped in Rhode Island by the daring American captain, Barton.

"Do you mean that you would carry me off as a prisoner?" asked Sir William.

"Such was my intention, if you will pardon the rudeness," replied Wildfoot, humbly. "And if you will excuse me again, Sir William, we must hurry."

I saw Vivian suddenly lean over in his chair, throw out his arms, and sweep from the table the candles, extinguishing them instantly, while Graves, with a single strong puff of his breath, blew out the one in front of us. The rooms were plunged into darkness, and what had seemed comedy before, became tragedy, especially for Graves and me, bound as we were to the table and powerless to cry out. I heard the quick, heavy tread of feet, and the crack of a pistol shot, the flash of the powder casting for a moment a fantastic light by which I saw rapidly moving figures, and then the sound of shattering gla.s.s and another shot.

I do not think that I breathed for a minute or two. The next room, with the darkness, the pistol shots, the occasional flashes of light and the trampling feet, furnished every evidence of a deadly struggle, and at any moment a pistol ball might take me in the breast, while I sat there bound to the table, powerless to help myself, and unable even to make myself heard.

A man brushed suddenly past me, threw open the outer door, and shouted to the guards, who were already crowding into the room. But the sounds in the inner chamber ceased with great suddenness, and in a moment, a flame flared up. It was Vivian relighting a candle. He was very pale, and the blood was dripping from his left arm, which was limp by his side. Save for himself, the room was empty. Broken gla.s.s from both windows lay on the floor. Near the table was a large spot of blood.

"They escaped through the windows, Sir William," said Vivian, "but I think that one has carried with him the mark of my bullet."

"And you have the mark of his," replied Sir William, who was at the outer door. "One of you men run for a surgeon at once. I owe too much to you, Vivian, to forget this."

Then he began to give hasty orders for the pursuit of Wildfoot and his men. All the anger and chagrin which he had concealed so well in their presence surged up.

"They shall be caught! They shall be caught!" he cried. "I will give a hundred guineas myself to the man who first lays hands on this Wildfoot.

Send the alarm to all the pickets, and permit n.o.body to leave Philadelphia on any pretext whatever!"

He continued his orders, and messengers rushed with them to the outposts, impressed by the anger and emphasis of the commander-in-chief which would permit no delay. Two or three minutes pa.s.sed thus, and the fierce mental exertion seemed to calm Sir William. More candles had been lighted, and looking about the room, he saw Graves and me still motionless and confronting each other across the table, as silent as sphinxes.

"What, are you bound?" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you call for help?"

And we were yet silent.

He stared at us in surprise, and then he burst into laughter. I think it was partly relief from the nervous strain that made him laugh.

"I have heard often," he said, "that silence is a virtue, but this seems to me to be carrying it to an extreme point."

He promptly gave orders to have the gags and thongs removed, and I stretched my muscles with a feeling of deep relief. Wildfoot might be a great partisan commander, but there was such a thing as pernicious activity. I was a good American, and it was a grievous insult to be bound and gagged by another good American.

"How did this happen?" asked Sir William.

"I do not know," I replied, glad to be able to speak again. "We were bent over the table, busy with our writing, when we were seized from behind. I cannot understand how they pa.s.sed the sentinel unnoticed."

Sir William swore a frightful oath.

"The sentinel has disappeared," he said. "Undoubtedly he was in league with them, perhaps an American whom we took to be a faithful Tory. We will capture this Wildfoot before morning, and you shall help."

I exchanged a word or two with Vivian, and found that he was not badly hurt. A small bone in his left arm was broken by the bullet, but it would heal perfectly in a week or two. Then I hurried out with Sir William and Graves.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN--_The Pursuit of Wildfoot_

The general was so eager that Graves and I were several yards behind him when we emerged from the house into the midst of a great tumult, orderlies galloping from the door with despatches, and others returning for more, while lights were increasing rapidly in the city, and soldiers were gathering for duty. It was evident that Sir William was thoroughly aroused, and intended to capture Wildfoot if it were possible to do such a thing. My first feeling of anger against the ranger because of his treatment of me pa.s.sed, as I reflected that he naturally took me for a British officer, and could not have done otherwise, even had he known the difference. Now I began to fear for him. I did not wish this bold man, so valuable to our cause, to be captured, possibly to be hanged upon some pretext or other. But Sir William did not give me much time to think.

"Be sure you follow me, Melville," he said.

He was already on horseback, and, mounting a horse that an orderly held for me, I galloped after him. He had gathered several other aides in his rapid pursuit, and we made quite a cavalcade, the hoofs of our horses thundering upon the hard street. The whole city was awake now; night-capped heads were thrust from windows, and trembling voices asked what was the matter. But we paid no heed, galloping on.

Catron was among the officers who had joined us, and pointing towards Germantown, he said:--

"They ran this way; I saw four men with pistols in their hands dash down the street. One was very large."

"That was Wildfoot! It was he! Sound the call!" Sir William shouted joyfully to a trumpeter.

The man put the instrument to his lips and blew the hunting call.

Merrily rose the notes, and Sir William's spirits rose with them. He felt sure that already he held Wildfoot in the hollow of his hand.

Our rapid ride was bringing us near the outskirts of the city, where the British intrenchments and fortifications lay, and I imagined that it was Sir William's plan to establish first a thorough picket line, and then to search every house in Philadelphia for Wildfoot and his comrades.