A DESPERATE VENTURE.
The meaning look which Mrs. Dillard had bestowed upon the prisoners,
brief though it was, sufficed to revive their spirits wonderfully. Not
that there was any promise in it; but it showed they were recognized
by the hostess and, knowing her as they did, the boys knew that if
there was a loophole of escape for them she would point it out.
While preceding the soldier up the stairs it was much as though they
were guests in Sarah Dillard's home, and there came with the fancy a
certain sense of relief and security such as had not been theirs for
many hours.
The apartment selected to serve as prison was by no means dismal; it
was cleanly, like unto every other portion of Sarah Dillard's home,
and sufficiently large to permit of moderate exercise, with a barred
window overlooking the stable-yard which allowed all that took place
in the rear of the dwelling to be seen.
"I shouldn't mind being a rebel myself for a few hours in order to get
such quarters as these," the soldier said as he followed the boys into
the chamber. "Not a bad place in which to spend the night."
"With a couple of blankets a body might be very comfortable," Nathan
replied in a cheery tone, for despite the dangers which threatened
that little band at Greene's Spring, despite Ephraim Sowers' avowed
enmity and probable ability to do harm, despite the fact that he was a
prisoner, this enforced visit to Captain Dillard's house was so much
like a home-coming that his spirits were raised at once.
"And you have the effrontery to ask for blankets after getting such a
prison as makes a soldier's mouth water," the Britisher said with a
certain rough good-nature in his tone. "You rebels have a precious
queer idea of this sort of business, if you can complain because of
lack of blankets."
"I am not complaining," Nathan replied with a laugh. "Of course there
is no situation which cannot be bettered in some way, and I was simply
speaking of how this might be improved. We are satisfied with it,
however, as it is."
"And so you had better be, for I am thinking there are not two rebel
prisoners as comfortably bottled up, and by this time to-morrow night
you will be wishing yourselves back," replied the guard.
Then the soldier locked and barred the door on the outside, trying it
again and again to make certain it could not readily be forced open,
and a few seconds later the sound of his footsteps told that the boys
were comparatively alone for the time being.
Now was come the moment when they should make known the danger which
threatened the friends of freedom through Ephraim Sowers' perfidy, for
every second might be precious if a warning message could be sent, and
involuntarily both the lads ran to the window, looking eagerly out
through the bars in the hope of seeing some member of the household
whose attention might be attracted.
Major Ferguson's subordinates were not so careless as to allow their
prisoners many opportunities of such a nature. All the servants, and
in fact every person on the plantation, was kept busily engaged
waiting upon the redcoats, a goodly number of whom could be seen in
the stable-yards, which knowledge caused Evan to say mournfully:
"We are not like to get speech with any one who could carry word to
Greene's Spring. It stands to reason Ephraim Sowers has warned the
Britishers that such an attempt might be made, and you may be
certain, Nathan, no one can leave the plantation without Major
Ferguson's permission."
"It is possible he can prevent a message being carried; but I shall
not give up hope yet awhile."
"Before many hours have passed the troop, or at least a portion of it,
will set out to slaughter our friends. I would I knew where that Tory
spy was at this moment!"
"Most likely he has gone ahead to make sure his victims do not escape.
We shall hear of him again 'twixt now and daybreak."
"I am afraid so," Evan replied with a long-drawn sigh, and then,
leaning his forehead against the wooden bars, he gazed out longingly
in the direction his feet would have taken had he been at liberty.
With two hours' start he might save the lives, perhaps of a hundred
men, all of whom could be accounted his friends, and yet because of
one lad's wickedness that little band of patriots was in imminent
danger of being massacred.
From the apartments below the coarse laugh and coarser jest of a
Britisher could be heard, telling that the enemy were still bent on
making themselves as obnoxious to the inmates of the household as was
possible, while now and then from the outside came sounds of the
splintering of wood or the cackling of poultry as the soldiery
continued their work of wanton destruction.
Both officers and men grew more nearly quiet as the shadows of night
began to lengthen. The Britishers were weary with asserting their
pretended right as victors, and the stable-yard was well-nigh deserted
of its redcoated occupants.
The young prisoners were standing near the window in silence, when a
slight noise as of some animal scratching at the door attracted their
attention, and instantly the same thought came into the mind of each.
Sarah Dillard, freed for the time being from the exacting demands of
the unwelcome visitors, had come, perchance, to point out some way of
escape.
Now was arrived the moment when they might reveal to this brave woman
the dangers which threatened, and yet for the instant Nathan hesitated
so to do, because it appeared to him that he would be distressing her
needlessly, since it was hardly probable she could find means of
conveying the warning to those in peril. By making her acquainted with
all that threatened he would be doing no more than to increase her
distress of mind.
Evan, however, was not looking so far into the future. He only
realized that perhaps now was the moment when he would make known
Ephraim Sowers' perfidy, and crept noiselessly toward the door,
whispering eagerly:
"Is that you, Mistress Dillard?"
"Yes, boys, and I have come in the almost vain hope that it may be
possible to serve you, although I know not how. When did you fall into
the hands of the enemy?"
"Have you seen Ephraim Sowers here?" Evan asked, heeding not the
question.
"No. Has he also been made prisoner?"
"It is far worse than that. He is a spy in the service of the
redcoats, and has revealed to them the whereabouts of Colonel Clarke's
band."
"That is impossible, for the entire company were here not more than
eight hours ago, and with them was my husband."
"Then the miserable spy is mistaken, and these Britishers will have
their journey for their pains," Nathan whispered in a tone of intense
relief. "Ephraim has told Major Ferguson that they were encamped at
Greene's Spring, and there----"
"And it is to Greene's Spring they are going!" Mrs. Dillard cried
unconsciously loud. "How could any spy have learned of their intended
movements?"
"You must remember that Ephraim Sowers has not been looked upon as a
spy. Perchance no one except the Britishers knew it until we two saw
him coming into the camp where we were prisoners," and Nathan spoke
hurriedly. "It is not for us to speculate how our friends have been
betrayed; but to give the warning to them without loss of time."
Mrs. Dillard did not reply immediately, and the prisoners could well
fancy that she was trying to decide how the danger might best be
warded off.
"Is it not possible for you to release us?" Nathan asked after a brief
pause. "If either Evan or I were at liberty we might be able, by rapid
running, to cover the distance between here and Greene's Springs
before the redcoats could arrive there, for it is not likely they will
start very early in the night."
"To escape from the window while the soldiers are in the stable-yard
is impossible," Mrs. Dillard replied, much as though speaking to
herself, "and as for getting you out by this way I am powerless. One
of the officers has a key to the door, and even if it was in our
possession, there is little chance you could make your way through the
house secretly."
"But something must be done, and at once," Nathan whispered in an
agony of apprehension, and at that moment the sound of footsteps on
the floor below caused Mrs. Dillard to beat a retreat.
The boys could hear the swish of her garments as she ran through the
hallway, and it was as if the good woman had no more than hidden
herself from view before the heavy footsteps of a man on the stairs
told that some one of the Britishers was coming to make certain the
prisoners were securely confined.
Creeping noiselessly away from the door lest the redcoat should enter
and find them in a position which betokened that they had been holding
converse with some one on the outside, the lads remained silent and
motionless until the noise of footsteps told that this cautious
Britisher, having satisfied himself all was as it should be, had
returned to the floor below.
Then the lads stole softly back near the door where they awaited the
coming of the woman whom they hoped might show them the way to
freedom, even though at the time it seemed impossible she could do so.
The moments passed like hours while she remained absent, and then once
more they heard a faint scratching at the door which told of her
return.
"Tell me all you know regarding this boy Sowers being a spy," Mrs.
Dillard whispered when she was once more where private conversation
could be carried on, and Nathan said nervously:
"Why speak of him at a time when every moment is precious? Instead of
giving such as that villain a place in our thoughts we should be
trying to form some plan whereby the lives of our friends may be
saved."
"It is yet too early in the night for us to make any move," the brave
woman replied as if her mind was already made up to a course of
action. "Until the men have quieted down somewhat we cannot so much as
cross the yard without being challenged, and I would know all that may
be told before setting out for Greene's Spring."
"Do you count on making such a venture?" Evan asked in surprise.
"Some one must do it, and since I cannot set you free, I must act as
messenger."
"But there is hardly one chance in a hundred you will succeed."
"Yet I shall try to take advantage of that hundredth chance."
"But how may you get there? It is twenty miles over a rough mountain
road."
"Even though it were ten times as far, and the peril greater an
hundredfold, do you not think I would brave it in the hope of saving
the lives of those brave men?"
Evan ceased to find objections to her plan; but asked how she might be
able to make the journey.
"There is in the stable a colt which the Britishers will hardly
attempt to drive away because he has not yet been broken. I shall do
my best at riding him, and trust in the good God for protection."
Nathan was not a cowardly lad; his acquaintances spoke of him as one
having much courage, and yet he trembled at the thought of this woman
attempting to bridle an unbroken colt, and then ride him twenty miles
over the rough mountain roads where only the steadiest of horses might
safely be used.
He would have said something in the hope of dissuading her from her
purpose; but it was as if his tongue refused its office, for Sarah
Dillard would ride that night not only to save a hundred or more
friends of freedom, but to save the life of her husband.
"Tell me all you know of the spy, so that I may warn our people
against him with fair proof."
Neither Evan nor Nathan made any attempt at giving advice; the woman's
courage so far eclipsed theirs that it was as if she should command
and they obey--as if they had no right even to offer a suggestion.
Obedient to her wishes they repeated all they had heard the vindictive
Tory say, and described in detail his reception at Major Ferguson's
camp.
"If you could only take us with you, or what would be better, so
manage it that we might go in your stead," Nathan said when his
account of Ephraim Sowers was brought to an end.
"I would willingly do so if it might be possible; but I can see no way
to accomplish such a purpose."
"Yet there are many chances against your being able to ride the colt,
however willing you may be," Evan said, as if hoping such suggestion
might cause her to devise another means of forwarding the warning.
"I know full well how many chances there are against success, and yet
because it is the only hope, I shall venture."
But little conversation was indulged in after this assertion, which
seemed prompted by despair.
Nathan told the brave woman all he knew regarding the most direct path
through the thicket to the American encampment, and Evan warned her to
be on the alert for Sowers nearabout the spring, where both he and his
comrade believed the spy had gone to make certain his intended victims
did not escape.
Then all fell silent as if awed by the dangers which were to be
voluntarily encountered, and presently the boys knew from the faint
sounds that Sarah Dillard had stolen swiftly away without so much as a
word of adieu.
"She will never be able to get an unbroken colt out of the stable,
even if she succeeds in bridling him," Evan whispered, and Nathan
replied with a certain hopefulness in his tone, although he was far
from believing the venture might succeed:
"It is possible the task may be accomplished. I have more faith in her
gaining the mastery of the colt for a certain time than I have of her
being able to keep him on the trail. There are many places 'twixt here
and Greene's Spring where a single misstep, such as an untrained
animal is likely to make, will send them both into eternity."
As if by a common impulse the boys moved toward the window, and there
stood gazing out, waiting for the appearance of the brave woman who
had not only to master an untamed horse, but to keep herself concealed
from view while surrounded by enemies.
The troopers' steeds had been stabled in the huge barns to the right
of the dwelling, where were kept the draft animals, and, as the boys
well knew, Captain Dillard's saddle horses and the colt to which his
wife had referred, were housed in the small building directly across
the stable-yard from the improvised prison.
This particular portion of the plantation appeared to be entirely
abandoned by redcoats; but the officers in the dwelling were so near
at hand that any unusual noise in or around the yard would immediately
attract their attention, even though the sentinels were remiss in
their duty, and it seemed well-nigh impossible that Sarah Dillard
could so much as lead the most steady animal out into the open without
betraying her movements to the enemy.
"She won't be able to bridle the colt without something of a fight,"
Evan said half to himself, and Nathan added as if he would find some
ray of hope in the gloom which surrounded them:
"It is fortunate that the stable has no floor, and the colt may do
considerable prancing around without giving an alarm."
"Yet it is not likely she can ride him out without a certain amount of
noise."
"I know the venture is a desperate one," Nathan replied mournfully;
"but I am forcing myself to believe it may succeed."
At this instant a dark form was seen moving cautiously around the
corner of the house in the direction of the small stable, and the boys
knew that the desperate venture was begun.
Although the night had fully come it was not so dark but that
surrounding objects could be seen with reasonable distinctness, and
from the moment Sarah Dillard thus came in view the prisoners were
able to follow her every movement.
No frontiersman could have made his way across the yard with less
noise than she did; not so much as the breaking of a twig betrayed her
movements, and if this stealing out of the house had been the only
difficult part of her task, then one might say she would accomplish it
readily.
The boys hardly dared to breathe as she came from the shadows of the
building, moving with reasonable rapidity across the yard until she
was lost to view in the gloom of the stable, and then, although no
creaking of hinges betrayed her purpose, both knew she had effected an
entrance.
It was only the easiest portion of the work which had been
accomplished, however, and the prisoners stood with every nerve
strained to its utmost tension as they listened for what would betoken
that the struggle with the untamed animal had begun.
Once, just for an instant, they saw her form at the door, and then she
suddenly disappeared as if the colt had pulled her back; but as yet,
even though on the alert, they could hear nothing unusual, and unless
the British officers grew suspicious because of her absence, she was
yet in safety.
One, two, three moments passed almost as if they were hours, and then
the brave woman could be seen fondling and petting the colt, who
already wore the bridle, as she peered out from the doorway to learn
if the coast was yet clear.
"She has bridled him, and without making a noise," Evan whispered in a
tone of astonishment.
"It was easier to do that in the darkness than it would have been in
the light, and if she is wise she will mount inside, instead of trying
to do so out here."
It was as if Nathan had no more than spoken when with a bound the
colt, bearing on his back the woman who was risking her life to save
her husband, came over the threshold, rearing straight up on his hind
feet until there seemed every danger he would topple backward; but yet
his rider kept her seat.
"I had never believed a woman could do that," Evan exclaimed in a
whisper.
"Perhaps this one might not have been able to but for the necessity.
It hardly seems possible she can get out of the yard without
detection, for the sound of his hoofs as he rears and plunges must of
necessity bring the redcoats out in the belief that their own horses
have been stampeded."
The colt struggled desperately to free himself from the strange burden
upon his back, and yet, singularly enough, never once did he come down
upon the ground with sufficient force to cause alarm. He alternately
reared and plunged while one might have counted ten, his rider
clinging to him meanwhile as if she had been strapped securely down,
and then with a bound he cleared the stack of brush which was piled
just behind the stable, disappearing an instant later amid the forest,
which on this side the plantation had been left standing within a
hundred yards of the dwelling.
"She is off, and headed in the right direction," Nathan said in a tone
of amazement, as if it was almost incredible the feat had been
accomplished, and the words were no more than uttered before out of
the house came trooping half a dozen men, alarmed by the thud of the
animal's hoofs.
"They have heard her," Evan cried in an agony of apprehension, "and
now the chase will begin, for they must understand what her purpose is
in thus running away."
Fortunately for the safety of that little band at Greene's Spring, the
Britishers were not so well informed by the noise of all that had
taken place as Evan believed.
The thud of the colt's feet had simply caused them to believe there
might be a disturbance among their own animals, and they were very far
from suspecting the real truth of the matter.
They went hurriedly toward the barns wherein their horses were
stabled, however, and seeing this both the boys believed that chase
was about to be given.
"If she can keep the colt straight on the course, I have no fear they
will overtake her," Nathan said, much as though speaking to himself;
"but it is not probable the beast will be so tractable."
Now the prisoners watched in anxious suspense to see the first of the
troop ride out in pursuit, and as the moments passed their spirits
increased almost to bewilderment because no such move was made.
Finally, one by one, the redcoats returned to the house as if
satisfied everything was as it should be, and Evan whispered, as if
doubting the truth of his own statement:
"It must be that they fail to suspect anything is wrong. There is yet
a possibility, Nathan, that Sarah Dillard will accomplish the task
which half an hour ago I would have said was absolutely beyond her
powers."
"And if she can bridle and mount the beast, I am tempted to believe
she may reach Greene's Spring in time, for certain it is that up to
this moment no one suspects that she has left the plantation."
"I could----"
Evan ceased speaking very suddenly, and it was with difficulty he
could repress a cry of fear, for at this instant the key was turned in
the lock, the door flung open, and as the prisoners suddenly faced
around, they saw before them Ephraim Sowers, looking satisfied and
triumphant.