I shall pass lightly over the next two months. I saw Jack rarely, and
McLane kept us busy with foraging parties and incessant skirmishes.
Twice we rode disguised as British troopers into the very heart of
the city, and at night as far down as Second street bridge, captured a
Captain Sandford and carried him off in a mad ride through the pickets.
The life suited maid Lucy and myself admirably. I grew well and strong,
and, I may say, paid one of my debts when we stole in and caught a
rascal named Varnum, one of our most cruel turnkeys. This hulking coward
went out at a run through the lines, strapped behind a trooper, near to
whom I rode pistol in hand. We got well peppered and lost a man. I
heard Varnum cry out as we passed the outer picket, and supposed he was
alarmed, as he had fair need to be.
We pulled up a mile away, McLane, as usual, laughing like a boy just out
of a plundered apple-orchard. To my horror Varnum was dead, with a ball
through his brain. His arms, which were around the trooper’s waist, were
stiffened, so that it was hard to unclasp them. This rigidness of some
men killed in battle I have often seen.
On Saturday, the 16th of May, Marquis Lafayette came to our huts and
asked me to walk apart with him. We spoke French at his request, as he
did not wish to be overheard, and talked English but ill. He said his
Excellency desired to have fuller knowledge of the forts on the Neck and
at the lower ferry, as well as some intelligence as to the upper lines
north of the town. Mr. Hamilton thought me very fit for the affair, but
the general-in-chief had said, in his kind way, that I had suffered too
much to put my neck in a noose, and that I was too well known in the
town, although it seemed to him a good choice.
When the marquis had said his say I remained silent, until at last he
added that I was free to refuse, and none would think the worse of me;
it was not an order.