THE BEND OF THE WALLOOMSAC.
Not a little startled by the words of the stranger, Ira glanced at
General Burgoyne to see what impression they had made upon him. Seeing a
look of amusement, rather than suspicion, on the officer’s face, he grew
bolder; but was still at loss what reply to make, when he saw a piece of
paper lying upon a table in front of the general, on which a name was
written in an irregular, scrawling hand.
Instantly the lad recognized it as that of a zealous Tory in an
adjoining state, of whom he had heard much. In a twinkling he understood
that it was the name of the man before him, who had sent it in to the
British commander when he sought an interview.
The glance, the reading, the conclusion, were as a flash, and the next
minute he was gazing smilingly at the visitor, as he said:
“I am surprised that you don’t know me, Uncle Horace; but then, it is a
long time since we met.”
“Do you know me?” the stranger exclaimed, every line of doubt on his
face changing to an expression of delight.
“Of course I do,” the young scout replied confidently. “You are Horace
Lyman of Bennington, who——”
“Who married your ma’s sister,” the Tory interrupted. “It’s queer you
look so different than you did when over at my house, but, as you say,
that is some time ago.”
“It must have been before father and I went to Europe,” Ira went on
boldly.
“So it was, and a year over there must have changed your looks, though I
begin to see the old face now. How is your pa and ma, and the younger
children?”
“All well when I last heard from them,” was the reply. “How is Aunt and
Cousin Fred?”
“Your aunt is poorly, very poorly,” Master Lyman answered. “Sometimes I
think she is a little bit out here,” and he touched his forehead, “for
she persists that the rebels will in the end gain their independence.
But Fred, he’s all right, physically and mentally. He has done some good
work in the last week or two, about which I have been telling the
general, and now he wants to enlist in the king’s service. That is one
reason why I am over here to-day.”
“And I have promised to give the matter my consideration,” General
Burgoyne remarked, as though growing impatient with his visitors’ family
affairs. “If you will take a turn about the fort for an hour or two,
Master Lyman, I will then tell you what I can do in regard to both
matters you have spoken about,” and he bowed him from the room.
Turning to Ira, he said:
“Before I give your relative a definite reply, I must talk with you
about the revelation he has made, and the favor he desires. You have
been in Bennington, Master Le Geyt?”
“Yes, sir, two or three years ago.”
“Do you know where is located the inn known as the ‘State’s Arms’ house?
I mean its position in the village, and its relation to the other public
buildings?”
“Yes, sir. It stands on the summit of the hill, near the church,” and
the young scout rapidly described the town, its surroundings, and its
approaches, wondering all the while what could be his commander’s reason
for this information.
“I learn through your uncle,” the general said, “that the rebels are
gathering large quantities of ammunition and stores there. He believes I
can make an easy capture of them. Your cousin Fred, as you call him, has
been keeping watch over the doings in the town and the neighborhood. Now
in your judgment, how large a force of men would be necessary to make
the raid on Bennington?”
“Would it not be better for me to go back with Uncle Horace, and look
around?” Ira suggested, hoping to gain time in which to warn the people
of the danger that threatened them.
“I was going to ask that of you,” the general replied. “According to
your relative, the stores are still being brought in, and it will be
well for us to defer our raid until they have finished the work. But
there is another part of Master Lyman’s tale which greatly interests me.
He declares that there is an opportunity for me to secure from the
neighboring farms, horses in sufficient numbers to equip a regiment of
cavalry. If this can be done, it would give me a great advantage over
the rebels. I would, therefore, like to have you spend a few days in
that locality looking carefully into the matter. In such task you may
find occasion to employ your cousin, and thus learn whether he can be of
further value to us as guide, courier, or staff officer. It is the
latter position your uncle desires for him.”
“When does Uncle Horace intend to return home?” questioned the scout,
still thinking how he could serve his friends and save the stores.
“To-morrow. I believe.”
“I will be ready to go with him,” Ira said, rising to take his leave.
“May fortune favor you,” were the parting words of the general.
Though the lad saw Master Lyman upon the walls of the fort, he did not
think it wise to seek another interview with him. Something might arise
in their conversation to awaken the suspicions of the Tory as to his
identity. When in Bennington, some months previous, he had, by the
merest chance, learned of the royalist, and that he had a son Fred, who
was as ardent a supporter of the king as the father. This information
had served him a good turn; but while he really meant to accompany the
man to Bennington, he had no intention of putting himself in a position
where either husband, wife, or son would be likely to discover he was
not the real Ira.
Leaving it, therefore, for General Burgoyne to explain to the visitor
the plans which had been decided upon, the young scout went into his own
tent to devise, if possible, some way by which the purpose of the
British commander could be thwarted.
When night came he slipped out of the fort, and went over to the place
where he had arranged to meet Dan Cushing. He found the boy in waiting,
and after a brief conversation with him, did what he had not expected to
do when he left the British camp. At the risk of being seen by some
sharp-eyed picket, or more alert Indian, he, in company with Dan,
crossed the river and entered the Continental lines.
For an hour he and his comrade were closeted with General Schuyler, and
then the two lads came forth, Ira to make his way back to his quarters
in the fort, and Dan to mount a horse when, after a long detour to the
south of Fort Edward, he was to ride toward Bennington.
Not far from nine o’clock the following day Master Lyman and Ira Le Geyt
left the fort, and, taking the nearest route for Bennington, rode
leisurely along.
“I am sure you will find Fred of great help to you in this work,” Master
Lyman said, “and a good word from you will surely give him the place he
wants on the general’s staff.”
“He prefers that to the position of scout or courier?” the latter
questioned, more to keep up appearances than for any other reason.
“Yes,” the Tory replied emphatically. “If he is only a scout or courier
he must wear his ordinary dress, but if put on the general’s staff, with
the rank of a lieutenant or captain, he would have the regular uniform,
and that is what Fred wants. Ever since he was in Quebec last fall he
has just been about crazy to get on some regimentals.”
“And yet he might be of more service in ordinary clothes,” Ira said
grimly.
“Yes, and run a bigger risk. The reason Fred sticks for a place on the
staff of the general is, that there won’t be as much danger, as in the
regular service. There’ll be more honor and less fighting.”
“I’ve known others to choose the humbler place because it called for
more dangerous work,” the young scout said in the same grim tone.
The Tory looked at him sharply. “Do you question Fred’s courage?” he
demanded.
“How can I, until I see it put to the test?” was the demure response. “I
was merely thinking of the difference between Fred’s view and mine. I am
a scout because it gives me an opportunity to render a greater service.”
The Tory scowled, but made no reply, and soon the conversation turned to
other matters. At noon they ate dinner with a friend of Master Lyman’s,
of whom the latter declared: “He is as true a servant of the king’s as I
am,” a fact of which Ira made mental note for future use.
At nightfall they were within a few miles of their destination, and by
pushing on could have reached it before a very late hour; but Master
Lyman evidently had another plan in mind. As they arrived at a road
leading northward, he said:
“A mile or so beyond is the home of James Earle. I promised to stop on
my way back from the fort and tell him what I had seen and heard. We’ll
go there for the night.”
“It is for you to say,” his comrade replied, turning his horse to follow
his leader.
A tract of woodland could be seen just ahead, and as if to pass through
it as rapidly as possible, the Tory spurred his horse to a canter. As he
disappeared beneath the shadow of the trees, Ira suddenly reined in his
own steed, and, turning toward the road they had left, uttered the cry
of a night hawk. Almost immediately it was repeated at no great distance
in the rear, and, apparently satisfied, the lad dashed away after his
companion.
In a few minutes the two had arrived at Master Earle’s house, where they
were warmly received, and provided with a hearty supper. When the meal
had been eaten, the travelers and their host went into the front room of
the house, leaving the women to clear away the table. Soon the two
Tories were busily engaged discussing the situation and condition of the
British army, and its prospects of success. Both were confident that in
a few days they would hear of the overwhelming defeat of the
Continentals.
Ira, left to himself, sauntered across the room to an open window, and
looked out. The night, although there was no moon, was not very dark,
and his sharp eyes detected a party of horsemen, just leaving the forest
below the house, and coming rapidly up. He did not seem to be alarmed,
however, at his discovery, and waited for the sound of the horses’ hoofs
to reach the ears of the men behind him. But they were so engrossed in
conversation as to hear nothing until the approaching riders were almost
opposite the dwelling. Then, springing to their feet in alarm, both
cried:
“What is that?”
As if arousing from a revery, Ira exclaimed:
“I declare, Master Earle, you have more visitors!”
The farmer was at his side in an instant, and, with a glance at the
coming troopers, turned and ran toward the kitchen, crying:
“Quick, Master Lyman! They are rebels, and we must hide!”
But he and his friend gained the back door too late to escape. The lad
followed in time to see both fall into the hands of four stalwart men,
who were lying in wait. Two others seized the young scout as he
appeared, and then the commander of the company, a long, lank,
grizzly-bearded man, not far from the age of the Tories, came forward.
“What does this mean, Sam Adams?” Master Earle demanded. “It is an
outrage to treat men this way in a free country.”
“We ain’t free yet,” the lieutenant retorted, “that is, we ain’t free of
red-coats or Tories, though we are likely to be before a great while.
Howsomever, if you want to know by whose authority I have arrested you
and Squire Lyman, I’ll say the Committee of Safety sent me for that
purpose, and they’ll tell you what’s wanted. But who’s that young chap?”
“He’s my nephew, Ira Le Geyt,” Master Lyman replied quickly. “He was
going home with me for a visit.”
“Ira Le Geyt,” repeated the officer slowly. “Seems to me I’ve heard that
name before, though I can’t tell where. But I’ve no orders to take him.
Let the lad go, men, and we’ll hope the next time we see him he will be
in better company.”
Then he gave orders to bring horses from the barn for his prisoners, and
shortly the entire party rode away.
Ira, left alone with the women, tried to soothe them by saying:
“General Burgoyne will send an army down here as soon as he hears of
this, and tired as I am, I will be off at once if I can have a fresh
horse.”
A small boy went to the barn with the scout, showing him which animal to
take, and within fifteen minutes after the horsemen had departed, Ira
was following them toward the main road. Arriving there, he found Dan
Cushing in waiting, and, after heartily greeting each other, both
started for the village, Dan saying as they rode along:
“When I left you last night, Ira, I pushed straight on to Bennington,
arriving at Captain Park’s house before he was up; but he wasn’t slow
after readin’ General Schuyler’s letter. First he gave me a fine
breakfast, after which he said I was to go to bed an’ get some sleep.
Then he hurried off to consult with the town committee. They must have
hustled, for when I awakened a little after noon, the captain told me
there were already four companies of militia in the village, guarding
the stores, an’ that a messenger had been sent off to Derryfield, New
Hampshire, after Colonel John Stark to take command of the troops, which
are expected to number two thousand by to-morrow night.”
“They mean business, don’t they?” his comrade interrupted; “but go on,
Dan, with your story.”
“The rest is soon told. Captain Park sent me down the road to be on the
lookout for you an’ the Tory. He thought the old feller would stop at
Master Earle’s, because the two are great cronies. I got to the
cross-roads an hour ’fore you did, put a red rag on the bush so you’d
know I was ’round, an’ then hid in the woods. I heerd an’ answered your
signal, then went back to town for the troopers. There’s only one thing
more to tell you. The Safety Committee want to see you when we get into
town. They’ve got something to talk over with you.”
“I expected it,” Ira replied. “Where am I to find them?”
“At the captain’s, where we’re to stop. They thought you would be tired,
an’ so agreed to be right there when you arrived.”
In less than an hour the two lads were at their destination, and when a
servant had taken their horses, both entered the huge kitchen of the
mansion to find themselves face to face with twelve men, whose resolute
countenances said more plainly than words that they were not to be
trifled with when the enterprise they were engaged in was a righteous
one. The men were seated around a long table, and Dan, stepping in
advance of his comrade, announced:
“Governor Wentworth, this is the feller ’bout whom General Schuyler
wrote, an’ who is now known as Ira Le Geyt.”
The twelve committeemen turned their eyes upon the newcomer, and he on
his part gazed earnestly at them. Several he knew by sight, though he
had no personal acquaintance with them; the others were strangers, save
him at the foot of the table. As Ira’s glance fell on this man he
recognized him as a citizen whom he had met when on a former visit to
the town, and he understood by the look given him, that the recognition
was mutual. A slight shake of the head, however, gave this patriot to
understand that the lad did not wish to be known, and then Ira listened
to the governor, who now said:
“Though unknown to us, young man, we cannot doubt your faithfulness to
the Cause we represent. The endorsement of General Schuyler alone is
sufficient for us, and when to that is added the service you have
already rendered, I, speaking for the others, may say that besides our
welcome, you have our gratitude.”
“He is not unknown to me,” broke in the committeeman at the other end of
the table. “Although not at liberty to declare his name, I can vouch for
his patriotism. No one of us loves the Cause more than he.”
“No one ever yet doubted your word, Master Whipple,” the chairman
replied, “and we shall not do so now. Still, does not the work this
young man has voluntarily taken upon himself tell, as no other words
can, of love for country?” and he looked around upon his companions in a
way which told he believed the matter of the young scout’s standing was
settled.
As no one contradicted him, he turned again to Ira, asking:
“What can you do for us, my young sir?”
“In the matter of the coming raid?” the lad questioned. “I cannot
prevent it, sir.”
“We would not have you do that,” was the quick reply.
“I am glad,” the boy went on; “but I think I can control the time of
that raid, and the size of the raiding force. At least, I am to report
to General Burgoyne on those two points, and have reason to believe my
words will have weight with him.”
“How long can you wait before making that report?”
“Two or three days.”
“Forty-eight hours will answer our purpose,” the governor declared.
“Within that time we expect Colonel Stark will be here, and prefer to
have him look over the field to decide on a plan of defense before your
report is carried to the British commander.”
“I know the colonel personally, and would say you cannot have a more
brave leader,” Ira replied. “I shall be glad to take to the general any
report the colonel may suggest.”
“We congratulate ourselves that we have the outcome of this raid within
our own hands,” the chairman added, “and we promise that you shall carry
back an accurate list of the stores held by us, as well as of the cattle
and horses we have collected. General Burgoyne will have no reason to
suppose that you have been otherwise than busy during the time you have
been away from him.”
“It will be good bait,” one of the company remarked laughingly as the
meeting broke up.
The young scout went over to Master Whipple. “May I ask a favor of you?”
he inquired.
“Certainly,” was the hearty reply.
“Will you, then, see Colonel Stark before I meet him, and ask that he
know me now only as Ira Le Geyt? Should my own name reach the ear of any
Tory, no matter who he may be, my usefulness in the British camp would
be over.”
“And your life would be in danger,” suggested his hearer.
“That is a small matter,” was the calm reply; “but we cannot just now
afford to lose the advantage which comes by having a friend amid the
enemy.”
“I rather think not,” Master Whipple said emphatically, “and if you are
willing to stay there, we should use every precaution to keep your
secret. I will see the colonel as you desire.”
The next morning Ira was on the street with Captain Park, when his
attention was called to a lad not far from his own age, who was
loitering around the building in which the arms and ammunition of the
Continentals were stored. There was something in his appearance that
seemed familiar, and after looking at the fellow a few seconds, it
suddenly flashed upon the young scout that he was Fred Lyman. It was the
resemblance to his father that had made the lad’s face seem familiar. To
make sure that his surmise was correct, he asked the officer by his
side, the name of the youth.
“Fred Lyman,” was the prompt answer. “His father and Master Earle are
confined in one of the rooms of the store-house, and doubtless he is
hanging around there hoping to get into communication with them.”
“I am not sure but it would be wise to put him into the room with them,”
said the young scout as he eyed the fellow again.
“He has never shown any qualities that has made us consider him
dangerous,” was the laughing reply of the officer, and they passed on.
That night, to the surprise of every one, Colonel Stark arrived in town.
His early arrival was explained by his own words:
“Five minutes after your message was brought to me, I was on my way
here. Call your committee together. The sooner we come to an
understanding about matters the better.”
The result of that secret session was to give the experienced officer
absolute control of the defense of the town. The next day he looked over
the village and its immediate surroundings, and then sent for Ira.
“How are you, Ira Le Geyt?” was his greeting, with special emphasis on
the name. “How is—well, my friend General Schuyler?”
“There is nothing the matter with him, or me, colonel,” was the lad’s
laughing reply.
“I wish he was as sure of whipping Burgoyne, as I am of the force the
Britisher may send down here. But now to business. Come with me!”
He led the way to the Heights, where was a bend in the Walloomsac river,
and into which, on the left, a smaller stream entered. Calling the
attention of his companion to these features, the officer asked:
“Do you suppose you can induce the red-coats to make an encampment
here?”
“Let me understand you perfectly, colonel, and I will make every effort
to put the British forces where you want them.”
“Advise General Burgoyne to send a thousand men,” the officer explained.
“Before they get here I’ll have my skirmishers hanging around them, and,
finding he is going to meet with opposition, the commander will
naturally look for some place in which to entrench himself. Show him
this spot, and let him make his stand here. That is your part; I’ll take
care of the rest.”
“It shall be done, if it lies within my power,” the young scout
promised.
Half an hour later, with a complete list of the Continental stores, and
a rough outline of the village and the surrounding hills in his pocket,
Ira, accompanied by Dan Cushing, rode toward Fort Edward.