THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.
“So, he is nothing but one of these cursed rebels, after all. If
_that_ is the case, my chances are not so desperate as you seem to
think. If Captain Morgan succeeded in doing his duty, he is doubtless
in custody now, if not dead. Of course I speak of the young man; I
have no fears of the old woman and her daughter.”
“Captain Morgan did his duty to the best of his ability; but I am
sorry to say that John Vale is not only _not_ in custody, but that,
on the contrary, it is Morgan and his command--that is, those of them
that are still alive--who are the prisoners.”
“You can not mean to say that a troop of dragoons has been defeated
by a squad of these half-mounted, half-armed rebels?”
“I mean to say just that; and I now order you to take your troop and
proceed to the spot to bury our dead. No doubt the Americans will be
in such haste to leave, after their victory, that they will have left
the corpses still exposed.”
“And after that, what remains to be done?”
“You will leave the spot and return some miles. There are two whigs,
whose houses are close together; their names are Phillips and Tappan.
Take up your quarters with them until I send you further orders. It
will be necessary to have a force in that vicinity, and your work
will soon be ready for you.”
“Then I must hold myself ready to begin the extermination of the
rebels. I go; but I have misgivings that it will be no child’s
mission.”
“Good-morning, then.”
“_Au revoir!_” and, with a graceful wave of his hand, Reginald
Preston departed.
Hastening to his quarters, he found that the news of the defeat of
Captain Morgan had preceded him. On leaving the presence of Sir
Henry, Turner had been active in spreading the story of the defeat.
He found the men now anxious for a brush with the “rebel dogs,” as
they styled the patriot brigade.
When the duty detailed was confided to the soldiers, they were
enthusiastic enough, and set up a shout. In an hour from the time
Preston bade adieu to General Clinton, he was on the road, having
Turner with him as guide.
The arm of the tory was not, by any means, seriously injured; and
the prospect of more gold made him ready to encounter danger again,
although he had but lately so narrowly escaped death. They had not
ridden far, when Preston expressed a wish to have some conversation
with him, and the two rode on some distance ahead.
Whatever it was that Reginald wanted, it seemed as though he found
some difficulty in getting at it. After some questions of no moment,
he began to speak of the Vales. If he was desirous of knowing the
history of the family, from the very moment when the head of it first
put foot within the State, he could have found no more fitting person
to inquire of. Turner had made them a study, it would seem; and the
questioner soon learned a great deal more than it was pleasing for
him to know. There was no doubt, now, in his mind, but that John Vale
was his uncle’s grandson, and fully entitled to the possession of the
property which he had fondly hoped was to become his own. Although
the young man was a rebel to the crown, he was afraid that it would
not invalidate his title to the estate. Although John Vale and the
rest of the family might be attainted, yet he well knew that a large
proportion of the money was in the hands of Americans, and probably
they were whigs.
What thoughts passed through his brain in the course of that ride,
it is hard to state; but, long ere the journey’s end was reached,
his mind was settled as to the course to be pursued. The fortune he
_would_ have, and Turner should be the tool through which he should
reach it. Riding side by side the now deliberate villain and his tool
occasionally spoke together, but Preston was too much engaged in
perfecting his plans to ask more than an occasional question; while
Turner, cunning, and quick of divination, had a partial clue to what
was in the mind of the British partisan.
When the British reached the spot on which the conflict of the
preceding night had taken place, they found all traces of the
struggle removed. Four or five newly-made mounds testified that the
rebels were too brave and generous to let the corpses of their foes
remain festering in the sun. Here and there, among the short grass,
deep red stains and pools of coagulated blood marked the spot where
the men had fallen; a broken plume, a glove, or a torn epaulet--these
were the only signs of the slaughter. Horses, men, arms--all had
disappeared, and the Britons had the consolation of knowing that when
they should meet this brigade of rebels, they would find them armed
with tried weapons of Great Britain’s own furnishing. The men looked
mournfully around; for soldiers have hearts, and are capable of warm
attachments; and here many a comrade, with whom they had spent many
happy hours, had bit the dust.
Preston marked the direction which Ernshaw had taken, for his trail
was plainly visible; but, as his orders were to retire toward
Charleston as soon as he had performed the last sad offices for the
fallen, he dared not go in pursuit although his men were eager enough
for a fray. Disappointment was plainly visible on more than one face,
when the order came for a return, but no murmurs were raised. Slowly
the procession emerged from the woods, and crossed Cedar Creek,
taking the road which led toward the farm-houses, where Captain
Preston was to take up his headquarters.
Mrs. Vale had, long ere this, heard the result of the conflict, for
her son had returned at early dawn. It was to stay but for a moment,
however, for he knew that now home would be no place for him. A
company would be sent to revenge the defeat of Captain Morgan as soon
as intelligence would be received by the commander at Charleston;
and, as his house lay on the road, it would be dangerous to be near
it.
When the troop had arrived opposite the door, Reginald gave the
command to halt, and ordered half-a-dozen of his men to dismount,
and search the house. Though it was improbable, it still was not
impossible that some of the rebels might be found within it.
Catherine and her mother were sitting sewing, when the door was
rudely flung open, disclosing the red-coated soldiers who stood at
the threshold.
With calmness Mrs. Vale arose, and advanced a step toward them,
saying, as she did, “What do you want, sirs?”
The men replied by entering the room first; then, one of them said:
“To search the house to see if there be any rebels laid away within
it.”
“One of you will be sufficient, then; you will find nothing within
its walls which it is not right that an honest woman should have.”
“And your son--is he within?”
“He is _not_; but if he were, it perhaps were as well for you to
defer the search, for he is not one who willingly permits liberties
to be taken with himself or his house.”
The answer that was given to this rather fiery speech of the good
woman, was a fierce scowl, and then the men spread themselves over
the house. It was soon evident that those whom they sought were not
within, and they passed out. Reaching the yard, a large-sized dog
was standing in the pathway, regarding them with a look which might
well pass for one of intense astonishment. The foremost soldier, not
liking the looks of the animal, and having a deep hatred for any
thing American, drew his sabre and made a stroke at the unflinching
dog as he neared him. The sudden attack, and the pain of a slight
wound, caused the dog to bound aside with a sharp cry; but, almost
immediately he turned, and, with lips drawn back over his teeth, was
about to spring upon the offender.
Catherine, who had hitherto remained seated, hearing the cry rushed
to the door. In a moment she detected the true condition of affairs.
At the sound of her call Lion forgot his purpose, and, with a quick
bound, leaping by his would-be slayer, stood by the side of Miss Vale.
Captain Preston saw what had transpired, and called to the man
to relinquish his purpose--for he had turned as if to follow the
creature. With a surly obedience the fellow obeyed. With a low bow
to the fair young girl, who still stood in the doorway, the captain
struck spurs into his charger’s sides, and galloped away, his men
following at the same rate of speed. Catherine and her mother gazed
after them, and, as the maiden caressed the shaggy head of Lion, she
gave vent to her feelings, by saying to her mother in a low, half
musing tone: “Notwithstanding all the cruel deeds that have been
committed by these foreign soldiers, there seems to be a little good
in some of them. So they would kill you, my brave Lion, for trying to
defend your home? You must be more careful next time, or you may get
yourself into an unpleasant difficulty, from which you can not come
with a whole skin.”
The dog shook his head gravely, and looked up into the face of his
mistress, as though he understood the advice given him, but was
rather uncertain, whether or no he should take it. He gave a low bark
and wagging his tail threw himself on the floor, while Catherine
resumed her sewing.
* * * * *
Great was the consternation of the good old whigs, Phillips and
Tappan, when a troop of British cavalry came dashing along the road,
and drew up in front of the dwelling of the former. In answer to a
heavy knock, the old man himself came to the door. Reginald Preston
related to him the orders of General Clinton. Where he could find
accommodations for thirty or thirty-five men, was a question that
puzzled the good old man for a time, but he consoled himself with
the thought that he would be no worse off than his neighbor Mr.
Tappan--toward whose house the remainder of the troops were being led
by their captain.
As there was no possible good to be gained by demurring, Mr. Tappan,
like Mr. Phillips, obeyed the order of his uninvited guests with
seeming alacrity, and did his best to ingratiate himself with those
who had the power to resent any fancied ill-treatment.
Captain Reginald had a room set apart for his use in Mr. Tappan’s
house, but, as the two whigs were near neighbors, he was not
separated from the rest of his command, by more than two hundred
yards.
As he retired for the night, he murmured to himself: “I must really
find some way of becoming more intimate with that pretty cousin of
mine, for, though not beautiful, she pleases my fancy most mightily.
I have half an idea that it would _pay_ to _marry_ her, and settle
down in this cursed country! With her share of the fortune, I could
become quite a respectable farmer. How it would look! The honorable
Reginald Preston driving a couple of plough horses.”