CHAPTER XI
IN WHICH GODFREY PLEADS FOR THE CONDEMNED PRISONERS
Without waiting for an answer, Barnabas jerked the table away and swungthe door partly open. The enemy were on the watch and immediately openeda hot fire. Two bullets struck Reuben Atwood, and he fell dead acrossthe threshold. The others dodged back into the heat and smoke, and justat the critical moment the firing ceased in response to a loud command.
"It's the Tory colonel hisself," exclaimed Barnabas, as he peepedthrough a crevice. "He's just arrived, an' there's lots of Royal Greensalong with him."
"Colonel Butler," he added loudly, "we'll surrender, providin' you spareour lives."
"Come out first, and then we'll talk," the officer shouted back after abrief pause.
There was hope in the words, and Barnabas and his companions lost notime in scrambling to their feet. Half-choked, and sweating from everypore, they stepped over Atwood's dead body and staggered across theclearing. At sight of the three figures there was a loud murmur ofastonishment.
"Where's the rest?" demanded Simon Glass, as he roughly stripped theprisoners of their muskets.
"We're all here but one," Barnabas answered, pointing to the doorway,"an' he's dead."
"I'll send you to join him," snarled Glass, and with that he presented agun to the old man's head. But before he could fire, Colonel Butlerknocked the weapon aside.
"You ruffian!" he exclaimed. "Would you shoot a prisoner in cold blood?"
"He deserves it," remonstrated Glass, in an injured tone. "Why, this isthe leader of the rebel band that attacked my party a couple of daysago, killed four of us, and stole our horses."
"I have nothing to do with that affair," snapped Colonel Butler. "When Iwant you to play executioner I'll tell you. Don't interfere again!"
With a scowl Glass slunk away, and for a few moments the officerscrutinized his three captives in silence. The upper part of the cabinwas now wrapped in flames, and the red glare made the scene as light asday. Tories and Indians stood grouped in a half-circle, the former withcold, pitiless faces, while the latter looked ferociously at theprisoners under their painted cheeks as they gripped their blood-stainedtomahawks and edged nearer with fiendish anticipation. Godfrey, who hadbeen with the attacking party, was standing to the rear, and his facealone expressed pity. He blushed as Nathan discovered him and gave him aquick glance of contempt and defiance.
"You can't expect mercy," Colonel Butler finally said. "Within a fewhours after the surrender you are found here with arms in yourpossession--a direct violation of my terms. And you took the offensive,firing deliberately on a part of my force."
"That's right, Colonel," chimed in Glass. "They shot first. We've sixdead here."
"We were compelled to fire, sir," said Barnabas. "We had no way toretreat, an' that ruffian yonder told his men not to let one of usescape."
"Exactly," assented Glass. "But my object was to take you prisoners. Isaw you and your men recover the arms you had hidden in the woods, and Iwas justified in following to discover your purpose."
At this Godfrey started to come forward, but changed his mind andstopped. His face was pale and haggard.
"Man, you lie," cried McNicol, turning to the one-eyed Tory. "You neversaw us get the guns, and you didn't even know we were here till youreached the cabin. And had we surrendered at the first, every one of uswould have been massacred in cold blood. I know you well, you dirtytraitor."
"Colonel, don't believe that rebel," retorted Glass, with a glance offury at McNicol. "The affair happened just as I said."
"Hang the affair!" testily exclaimed the officer. He moved aside for amoment to converse in a whisper with Captain Caldwell, of the RoyalGreens, and then turned to the prisoners. "My duty is very simple," hesaid. "There is but one question at stake. You were found bearing armsin violation of my terms. You have brought your fate on yourselves, andnow--"
"Sir, would our lives have been safe anywhere in this valley withoutfire-arms?" interrupted Barnabas.
Colonel Butler bit his lip with rage. "You rebel dog," he cried, "do youdare to assert that I can't enforce my own commands? But enough. CaptainCaldwell, a platoon of your men, please. Stand the prisoners out andshoot them."
Nathan turned pale. Barnabas and McNicol heard the sentence withoutmoving a muscle. A file of the Royal Greens stepped forward, bringingtheir musket butts to earth with a dull clatter. But just as severalTories laid hold of the victims to place them in position, anunexpected interference came from Godfrey Spencer.
"Colonel Butler," he exclaimed, "let me speak to you before this goesany further."
"Stop, you fool," muttered Glass, trying to push the lad back.
"Let me go," Godfrey whispered fiercely. "If you don't, I'll tell all."
"What do you want to say?" asked Colonel Butler. "Oh, it's you,Lieutenant Spencer!"
"Sir, I beg you to spare these men," pleaded Godfrey. "With justice toyourself, you can waive the question of their bearing arms, since theirobject in coming to the cabin to-night was in no wise contrary to theterms of the surrender. We came for the same purpose, and the meetingwas accidental. Simon Glass has lied deliberately, and I can vouch forit that he would have shot the prisoners at once, had they giventhemselves up."
Glass ground his teeth with rage, and had looks been able to kill, thelad must have fallen dead.
"I can't understand this hurried march of your little detachment fromthe Jersies to Wyoming," replied Colonel Butler. "You told me you weresent by Major Langdon, and now I infer that this cabin was connectedwith your mission; also, that the prisoners marched from the Jersieswith the same purpose in view. I would like a further explanation."
"That I can't give, sir," Godfrey answered firmly.
"Perhaps you can?" and the Colonel turned to Barnabas.
The old man shook his head. "It's a private matter, sir," he replied,"an' my lips are sealed. But what this young lieutenant says is alltrue."
Colonel Butler looked puzzled and vexed. "Whom did Major Langdon put incommand of the party?" he sharply inquired of Godfrey.
"Simon Glass, sir."
"And why were you--an officer of rank--sent along as a subordinate?"
"I don't know, sir. I don't even know fully the object of theexpedition."
"Glass, you can explain this mystery," exclaimed the Colonel, losingpatience.
"Sir, would you have me betray my trust?" demanded Glass, withwell-feigned indignation. "You saw my papers yesterday. You know thatthey are signed by Major Langdon, and that I am acting under hisorders."
"And under mine as well, sir," replied the Colonel, with a frown. "Therecan be no independent commands while I have control here. Come, we'lldrop the question of Major Langdon's authority. I want you to do somework for me to-morrow. You are just the man for it, and you can have theforce you led out of the fort when my back was turned."
"I am at your service, sir," Glass replied in a mollified tone.
The Colonel nodded. "You may as well camp here for the balance of thenight, and start early in the morning. Scour the whole upper part of thevalley, and burn every cabin and house to its foundations."
A wicked smile showed how well pleased the ruffian was with his orders."How about the prisoners, sir?" he asked carelessly.
"The sentence stands," Colonel Butler replied grimly. "I will give thema few hours to prepare for death. Hang or shoot them at daybreak."
"I can't entertain your appeal," he added, to Godfrey. "Your argumentsdo not mitigate the fact that these rebels were found in arms. I must domy duty."
In spite of Glass's angry and threatening looks Godfrey made a secondattempt to save the prisoners, but Colonel Butler cut him short in amanner that forbade further appeal. The officer was in an ugly mood, forhis natural curiosity to solve the mystery connected with the cabin hadbeen baffled. But matters of more importance demanded his immediatepresence at the fort, and without delay he marched off at the head ofthe Royal Greens.
Glass's first act
after the departure of Colonel Butler was to searchNathan thoroughly from head to foot, and the lad submitted with an airof surprise that was more feigned than real; by this time he had aninkling of what it all meant.
The ruffian could hardly conceal his disappointment when hefailed to find what he wanted. He proceeded to search McNicol andBarnabas--luckily omitting the latter's boots--and then he reviled theprisoners with the most bitter taunts and insults his brutal mind couldinvent.
Nathan lost his temper and answered back, thereby receiving a cruel blowin the face; but Barnabas and McNicol stoically endured the shower ofabuse. None of the three showed any sign of fear, though they knew theywere to die in the morning, and their courage might well have wonadmiration and pity from a more chivalrous foe. But Simon Glass'shalf-dozen Tory comrades--who numbered among them the survivors of thesquadron of dragoons--were as brutal and degraded as himself. The restof the force were Indians, and mercy or pity could have been betterexpected from a pack of panthers than from these blood-thirsty Senecas.
The ruffian finally wearied of his pastime and walked toward the cabin,which was now nearly consumed. After watching the dying blaze for amoment he returned.
"How soon will those ruins be cool?" he asked of one of his companions.
"I should judge in about two or three hours," the man replied.
Glass looked pleased. "We'd better be turning in," he continued, "for wemust take an early start in the morning. We'll hang the rebels before wego. Bring them over yonder now."
He led the way to a thicket of low bushes that stood on the near bank ofthe spring. In the centre of the thicket were three saplings, and tothese the prisoners were secured in a sitting position, with their armsfastened behind them and their backs turned to one another. Having seenthat the work was done thoroughly, Glass departed.
"You'd better be praying, you rebels," he said, in a sneering tone, "foryour necks will stretch at the first light of dawn."
The night was very warm and the Tories and Indians stretched themselvesin groups amid the thick grass that carpeted the clearing. A sentry wasposted on guard at the thicket, and as he paced to and fro with loadedmusket the upper part of his body was visible to the captives. Theycould see no others of the party for the bushes, but the silenceindicated that all were asleep. Godfrey had kept in the background afterColonel Butler's departure, either for the purpose of shunning Glass orto avoid those he had vainly tried to befriend.
There was no hope of escape, and for a while the wretched little grouptalked in whispers, each nobly endeavoring to cheer and comfort theothers. None had rested much on the previous night, and finally Barnabasand McNicol fell asleep.
Nathan was now alone with his thoughts, and in the face of death hisfortitude almost deserted him, and his mind yielded to bitter anguish.He lived the past over again--his boyhood days here in the valley, hisyears at college in Philadelphia, and then the string of terribleevents that had begun with the loss of his father on Monmouthbattle-field. But amid the conflicting thoughts that distressed him thememory of Godfrey's strange words was uppermost.
"What can it mean?" the lad asked himself. "Is it possible that MajorLangdon sent Simon Glass here to find and steal these papers? He heardmy father tell me where they were, but why would he want to get them? Itis a deep mystery--one too incredible to be true!"
Vainly the lad puzzled himself, and at last he fell into a restlesssleep. A couple of hours later he awoke with a start, realizing at oncewhere he was, and dreading to find that dawn had come. The moon was fardown and under a bank of clouds, and the cabin had long ago burnt itselfout to the last spark. But, from the direction of the ruins, floated adull noise and the sound of low voices.
"Barnabas, are you awake?" Nathan whispered.
"Yes, lad," muttered the old man, and as he spoke McNicol opened hiseyes and twisted his cramped body.
Before more could be said the bushes rustled, and a dusky figureshouldering a musket crept softly into the thicket. Godfrey--for it was,indeed, he--put a finger to his lips. "Hush!" he whispered. "I've cometo save you. All are sleeping, except Glass and four of the Indians.They're poking about in the ashes of the cabin, and we must get awaybefore they return. I am going with you, for my life is equally indanger."
He stooped down with a knife in one hand, and quickly severed the cordsthat held the prisoners. "Now come," he added. "Look where you step, anddon't even breathe loudly."
Nathan and his friends rose, trembling with joy, and almost doubting thereality of their good fortune. But they knew by what extreme cautionsafety must be won, and as noiselessly as shadows they trailed theirsore and stiffened bodies behind Godfrey to the farther edge of thethicket.
The young officer had thought out his plans beforehand, and with awarning gesture he stepped into the spring at the point where it becamea narrow rivulet, and brawled its course swiftly across the lower cornerof the clearing. The others followed, and the murmur of the watersdrowned what slight noise was unavoidable.
Now came the critical moment. With anxious hearts the fugitives wadedslowly down the stream, crouching low beneath the fringe of tall grassthat concealed, on both sides, the sleeping forms of Tories and Indians.On and on they went amid unbroken silence, and at last the dense foliageof the wood closed over them like an arch. They had safely passed thelimits of the camp. They waded twenty yards further, and then stepped onland.
Godfrey handed his musket to Barnabas. "You know the country," hewhispered. "Lead as you think best."
"We'll make a wide detour back of the fort," Barnabas replied, "an' thencome around to the river at the lower end of the valley."
On a brisk trot they started toward the northwest, and as they hurriedalong the forest trails that the old woodsman chose, Godfrey brieflytold what all were anxious to know.
"I got awake a bit ago," he said, "and heard Glass instructing four ofthe worst Indians to tomahawk you people just before daylight. They wereto kill me at the same time, and pretend it was done by mistake. Thatwas to be Glass's revenge for what I said to-night. I remained perfectlystill, pretending to be asleep, and when Glass and the Indians went overto the cabin, I decided all at once what to do. I told the sentry I hadbeen ordered to relieve him, and he handed over his musket without aword. He was asleep in two minutes, and my way was clear."
Barnabas and McNicol warmly thanked the lad, and Nathan impulsivelyclasped his hand.
"I hope we are friends again, Godfrey," he said. "I will never forgetwhat you did to-night."
"I will do more, if I ever get the chance," Godfrey answered. "But Ican't explain now--wait until we are certain of freedom."
By this time the fugitives were a mile from the enemy's camp, and beforethey had gone twenty yards further a faint outcry behind them told themthat their escape was discovered. All now depended on speed, for it wascertain that the Indians, by the aid of torches, would follow the trailwith the unerring keenness of blood-hounds.
Barnabas led the little party at a steady pace, taking them severalmiles to the rear of the fort before he turned parallel with the river.Now they headed for the lower end of the valley, and for nearly threehours, while they traversed the lonely and gloomy forest, they heard nosound but the chirp of night-birds and the distant cries of prowlingwild animals.
"I can't keep this up much longer," panted Nathan. "The Indians may beclose behind, but for my part I believe they've lost the trail."
"Mebbe so, lad," replied Barnabas, "though the quietness ain't anindication of it. We're all badly winded, but the river ain't far offnow. Onct we git across, or find a boat--"
The rest of the sentence was drowned by one blood-curdling whoop thatrang with awful shrillness through the silent wood. Another and anotherfollowed, and the glimmer of a torch was seen coming over a knoll at afurlong's space behind the fugitives.
"The Senecas are hot on the trail!" cried Barnabas, "an' their keen earshave heard us. On for the river! It's our last chance!"
In the Days of Washington: A Story of the American Revolution Page 11
