The Continental Dragoon Part 8

The troop went forward at a gallop against the wind, there being just sufficient light for keen eyes to make out the road ahead.

Harry Peyton was inwardly deploring the loss of time at Philipse Manor-house, and fearing that the prey would reach its covert, when suddenly the moon appeared in a cloud-rift, the troops pa.s.sed a turn in the road, and there stood a line of Hessians barring the way.

Ere Peyton could give an order, came one loud, flaming, whistling discharge from that living barrier. Harry's horse--Elizabeth Philipse's Cato--reared, as did others of his troop. Some of the men came to a quick stop, others were borne forward by the impetus of their former speed, but soon reined in for orders. No man fell, though one groaned, and two cursed.

Harry got his horse under control, drew his broadsword with his right hand, his pistol with his left,--which held also the rein,--and ordered his men to charge, to fire at the moment of contact, then to cut, slash, and club. So the little troop, the well and the wounded alike, dashed forward.

But the line of Hessians, as soon as they had fired, turned and fled, pa.s.sing between the two lines of the second force, and stopping at some further distance to reform and reload. The second force, being thus cleared by the first, wheeled quickly into the road, and formed a second barrier against Peyton's oncoming troop.

Peyton's men, intoxicated by the powder-smell that filled their nostrils as they pa.s.sed through the smoke of the Hessians' first volley, bore down on this second barrier with furious force. They were the best riders in the world, and many a one of them held his broadsword aloft in one hand, his pistol raised in the other, the rein loose on his horse's neck; while those with long-barrelled weapons aimed them on the gallop.

The Hessians and Peyton's foremost men fired at the same moment. The Hessians had not time to turn and flee, for the Americans, unchecked by this second greeting of fire, came on at headlong speed. "At 'em, boys!" yelled Peyton, discharging his pistol at a tall yager, who fell sidewise from his horse with a fierce German oath. The light horse men dashed between the Hessians' steeds, and there was hewing and hacking.

A Hessian officer struck with a sabre at Peyton's left arm, but only knocked the pistol from his hand. Peyton then found himself threatened on the right by a trooper, and slashed at him with broadsword. The blow went home, but the sword's end became entangled somehow with the breast bones of the victim. A yager, thinking to deprive Peyton of the sword, brought down a musket-b.u.t.t heavily on it. But Peyton's grip was firm, and the sword snapped in two, the hilt in his hand, the point in its human sheath. At that instant Peyton felt a keen smart in his left leg. It came from a second sabre blow aimed by the Hessian officer, who might have followed it with a third, but that he was now attacked elsewhere. Peyton had no sooner clapped his hand to his wounded leg than he was stunned by a blow from the rifle-b.u.t.t of the yager who had previously struck the sword. Harry fell forward on the horse's neck, which he grasped madly with both arms, still holding the broken sword in his right hand; and lapsed from a full sense of the tumult, the plunging and shrieking horses, the yelling and cursing men, the whirr and clash of swords, and the thuds of rifle-blows, into blind, red, aching, smarting half-consciousness.

When he was again aware of things, he was still clasping the horse's neck, and was being borne alone he knew not whither. His head ached, and his left leg was at every movement a seat of the sharpest pain. He was dizzy, faint, bleeding,--and too weak to raise himself from his position. He could not hear any noise of fighting, but that might have been drowned by the singing in his ears. He tried to sit up and look around, but the effort so increased his pain and so drew on his nigh-fled strength, that he fell forward on the horse's neck, exhausted and half-insensible. The horse, which had merely turned and run from the conflict at the moment of Peyton's loss of sense, galloped on.

Clouds had darkened the moon in time to prevent their captain's unintentional defection from being seen by his troops. They had, therefore, fought on against such antagonists as, in the darkness, they could keep located. The moon reappeared, and showed many of the Hessians making for the wooded hill near by, and some fleeing to the force that had re-formed further on the road. Some of the Americans charged this force, which thereupon fired a volley and fled, having the more time therefor inasmuch as the charging dragoons did not this time possess their former speed and impetus. The dragoons, in disorder and without a leader, came to a halt. Becoming aware of Peyton's absence, they sought in vain the scene of recent conflict. It was soon inferred that he had been wounded, and, therefore of no further use in the combat, had retreated to a safe resting-place. It was decided useless to follow the enemy further towards the near British posts, whence the Hessians might be reinforced,--as they would have been, had they held the ground longer. So, having had much the better of the fight, the surviving dragoons galloped back towards the post-road, expecting to come upon their captain, wounded, by the wayside, at any moment. He might, indeed, to make sure of safe refuge, ride as far towards the American lines as the wound he must have received would allow him to do.

Such were the doings, on the windy night, beyond Locust Hill, while Elizabeth Philipse and her aunt sat drinking tea by candle-light before a sputtering wood fire. Elizabeth having set the example, the others in the house went about their business, despite the firing so plainly heard. Black Sam had, after Elizabeth's arrival, returned from the orchard, whither he had gone late in the day, lest he might attract the attention of some dodging whale-boat or skulking Whig to the few remaining apples. He had been let in at a rear door by Williams, who had repressed him during the visit of the American dragoons,--for Sam was a st.u.r.dy, bold fellow, of different kidney from the dapper, citified Cuff. At Williams's order he had made a roaring fire in the east parlor, to the great comfort of old Mr. Valentine, and was now putting the dining-room into a similar state of warmth and light. Williams was setting out provisions for Molly presently to cook; and the maid herself was, with Cuff's a.s.sistance, replenishing the hall chandelier with fresh candles.

The sound of firing had put Elizabeth's black boy into a tremulous and white-eyed state. When Molly, who stood on the settle while he handed the candles up to her, a.s.sured him that the firing was t'other side of Locust Hill, that the bullets would not penetrate the mahogany door, and that anyhow only one bullet in a hundred ever hit any one, Cuff affrightedly observed 'twas just that one bullet he was afraid of; and when, at the third discharge, Molly dropped a candle on his woolly head, he fell prostrate, howling that he was shot. Molly convinced him after awhile that he was alive, but he averred he had actually had a glimpse of the harps and the golden streets, though the prospect of soon possessing them had rather appalled him, as indeed it does many good people who are so sure of heaven and so fond of it. He had been rea.s.sured but a short time, when he had new cause for terror. Again a horse was heard galloping up to the house. It stopped before the door and gave a loud whinny.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "LEANED FORWARD ON THE HORSE'S NECK."]

Molly exchanged with Cuff a look of mingled wonder, delight, and doubt; then ran and opened the front door.

"Yes!" she cried. "It is! It's Miss Elizabeth's horse! It's Cato!"

Cuff ran to the threshold in great joy, but suddenly stopped short.

"Dey's a soldier on hees back," he whispered.

So Molly had noticed,--but a soldier who made no demonstration, a soldier who leaned forward on the horse's neck and clutched its mane, holding at the same time in one hand a broken sword, and who tried to sit up, but only emitted a groan of pain.

"He's wounded, that's it," said Molly. "Go and help the poor soldier in, Cuff. Don't you see he's injured? He can't hurt you."

Molly enforced her commands with such physical persuasions that Cuff, ere he well knew what he was about, was helping Peyton from the horse.

The captain, revived by a supreme effort, leaned on the boy's shoulder and came limping and lurching across the porch into the hall. Molly then went to his a.s.sistance, and with this additional aid he reached the settle, on which he dropped, weak, pale, and panting. He took a sitting posture, gasped his thanks to Molly, and, noticing the blood from his leg wound, called d.a.m.nation on the Hessian officer's sword.

Presently he asked for a drink of water.

At Molly's bidding the negro boy hastened for water, and also to inform his mistress of the arrival. Elizabeth, hearing the news, rose with an exclamation; but, taking thought, sat down again, and, with a pretence of composure, finished her cup of tea. Cuff returned with a gla.s.s of water to the hall, where Molly was listening to Peyton's objurgations on his condition. The captain took the gla.s.s eagerly, and was about to drink, when a footstep was heard on the stairs. He turned his head and saw Elizabeth.

"Here's my respects, madam," quoth he, and drank off the water.

Elizabeth came down-stairs and took a position where she could look Peyton well over. He watched her with some wonderment. When she was quite ready she spoke:

"So, it is, indeed, the man who stole my horse."

"Pardon. I think your horse has stolen _me_! It made me an intruder here quite against my will, I a.s.sure you."

"You will doubtless not honor us by remaining?" There was more seriousness of curiosity in this question than Elizabeth betrayed or Peyton perceived.

"What can I do? I can neither ride nor walk."

"But your men will probably come for you?"

"I don't think any saw the horse bear me from the fight. The field was in smoke and darkness. My troops must have pursued the enemy. They'll think me killed or made prisoner. If they return this way, however, I can have them stop and take me along."

"Then you expect that, in repayment of your treatment of me awhile ago--" Elizabeth paused.

"Madam, you should allow for the exigencies of war! Yet, if you wish to turn me out--"

Elizabeth interrupted him:

"So it is true that, if you fell into the hands of the British, they would hang you?"

"Doubtless! But you shouldn't blame _me_ for what _they'd_ do. And how did you know?"

"Help this gentleman into the east parlor," said Elizabeth, abruptly, to Cuff.

"Ah!" cried Peyton, his face lighting up with quick grat.i.tude. "Madam, you then make me your guest?" He thrust forward his head, forgetful of his condition.

"My guest?" rang out Elizabeth's voice in answer. "You insolent rebel, I intend to hand you over to the British!"

There was a brief silence. Each gazed at the other.

"You will not--do that?" said Peyton, in a voice little above a whisper.

"Wait and see!" And she stood regarding him with elation.

He stared at her in blank consternation.

Again, the sound of the trample of many horses.

"Ah!" cried Peyton, joyfully. "My men returning!"

He rose to go to the door, but his wounded leg gave way, and he staggered to the staircase, and leaned against the bal.u.s.trade.

Elizabeth's look of gratification faded. She ran to the door, fastened it with bolt and key, and stood with her back against it.

The sound, first distant as if in the Mile Square road, was now manifestly in the highway. Would it come southward, towards the house, or go northward, decreasing?

"They are my men!" cried Peyton to Cuff. "Call them! They'll pa.s.s without knowing I am here. Call them, I say! Quick! They'll be out of hearing."

"Silence!" said Elizabeth to Cuff, in a low tone, and stood listening.

Peyton made another attempt to move, but realized his inability. 'Twas all he could do to support himself against the bal.u.s.trade.

"My G.o.d, they've gone by!" he cried. "They'll return to our lines, leaving me behind." And he shouted, "Carrington!"