THE FLAG OF TRUCE
The long hard winter soon came on, and we retired to Valley Forge to
suffer and to bear what was far more deadly than the English
bullets--the terrible cold and desolation of that dreary place. Cold,
bitterly cold it was, as the wind came down from the mountains, swept
over the broad fields, pierced through our torn and tattered garments,
and racked our frames with pain. And yet, terrible as the exposure
was, there stands out one bright day in all that dreary winter, one
day, one hour in which I forgot all the cold and the hardships and
would not have been elsewhere for anything in the wide world.
It was near the setting of the sun on one of the bleakest and coldest
days of the year. The sun itself was sinking behind the distant hills,
and the sky was brilliant with its fiery javelins, which threw a lurid
light across the cold gray heavens, the last protest of departing day
against the approach of the chill dismal night. The snow lay heavy
upon the ground, and spread like a great white pall over the sins and
sorrows of the world. Before us stretched the road, unbroken and
trackless; not a man had passed that way, for we stood guard at the
outpost, and the flicker of the foeman's fire could be seen six
hundred yards away, through the gloom.
"Lucifer, but it is cold!" said one of the guard, as he threw another
rail on the fire and held his hands out over the flames to warm them.
"Aye; Old Nick himself would not be a bad acquaintance now--his smell
of brimstone and sulphur might warm us up a bit," said another.
We were making the best we could of it, under the lee of a high bank
by the side of the road, where we had cleared a space and stacked a
good supply of dry fence-rails to feed the fire during the night. The
wind from the northwest swept over our heads, sheltered as we were by
the bank, and we would have defied the cold that crept ever upward but
for the rags and tatters that covered our frames. The men themselves
were cheerful, as they sat hugging the fire, and laughed and joked at
their hardships.
"I wonder if those Highland devils will bother us to-night?" asked
one, for the Black Watch held the outpost down the road.
"They will be too busy warming their knees," came the reply from
across the fire, and a laugh followed.
"Hello, what is that?" for the thud of hoofs was heard on the road
coming from the camp.
"A flag of truce, by George!" said the sergeant. "Who on earth wants
to go through the lines on a night like this?"
The party, consisting of several troopers, an officer, and what
appeared to be a woman on horseback, was soon within hailing distance,
and I heard Ringgold's voice call out:
"I say, Frisby, are you in charge here?"
"Yes," I replied. "What's up?"
"We have a prisoner here who wishes to go through the lines, but I
don't know whether you will permit her or not."
"Is she fair?" I asked. "For in that case she shall not pass unless
she gives us a smile by way of tribute as she rides by."
"Not even if George Washington so orders, sir," said a voice that I
knew.
"By the saints, my lady!" I cried, and I was by her side in an
instant. "What brings you here, and why are you going within the
English lines?"
"Should not a daughter be with her father?" she asked.
"But those bloody English, with all their fine trappings and their
feathers! Nay, my lady, you have been disrespectful to the Continental
Congress, as I can vouch for. You are our prisoner, and I will not let
you escape thus, to smile on the wearers of his Majesty's uniform."
But she laughed quite merrily, and answered my threat with "Lieutenant
Ringgold, pray ride on with the flag of truce."
"Dick Ringgold," I cried in my turn, "if you take less than ten
minutes I shall be your deadly enemy for life."
"All right, old fellow." Dick rode on toward the enemy's campfire with
the bugler until he had gone about half the way, and then we heard the
parley sounded and saw a stir in the opposite camp.
"Mistress Jean," said I, returning to the charge, "you are perfectly
heartless, and though I know the redcoats cannot help but fall in love
with you, I warn you that if you smile on any one of them I shall go
through the lines and seek him out, even into the heart of the city
itself, though I have to swing for it."
"You will never try anything so rash;" and now the laughter had gone
from her voice.
"That I will, my lady," I replied, "for I would rather dance on
nothing than know that you belonged to another."
"But you must not," said she. "You must not think of such a thing. You
must promise me never to attempt it."
"Nay, Mistress Jean, that I cannot promise. It would drive me mad to
stand here on guard all the winter night and see the lights of
Philadelphia off there in the east; to know amid all the gayety and
the balls you reign supreme; to know I could not see you because of
the miserable redcoats that guard the city. If they were ten times
their number I would find my way through them to be once more at your
side, Mistress Jean."
Before she could reply the Highland officer broke in, for he had
ridden up with Ringgold.
"Mistress Jean, it gives me pleasure to be the first to welcome you to
our lines. Your father told us of your coming, and there has been a
rivalry between us as to who should be the one to escort you to the
city."
"That was kind of all of you; but how did you leave my father?"
"Well, and eager for your coming."
He was a splendid-looking young fellow, tall, broad-shouldered, and
somewhat bony, with a voice that rang frank and true. He was a
Highlander, every inch of him, and carried himself with a free and
graceful carriage, and when I heard him tell Mistress Jean that he was
a Farquharson and an old ally of her house, I knew I had at last met a
dangerous rival. For, out of romances, it is not the villain, but the
brave and frank gentleman who is most dangerous to the peace of mind
of lovers, for they see in him what they themselves most admire, and
by which they hope to win their ladies' love.
"Lieutenant Ringgold, now," said Farquharson, "I am ready to receive
Mistress Gordon from your hands, and to conduct her within our lines."
"Far more ready than we are to let her go," answered Dick gallantly;
"but it is the fortune of war." And then the two officers saluted and
the exchange was made.
So Mistress Jean bade us all good-bye right prettily, and I, being on
the off side of her horse from the others, seized her hand as it hung
by her side and kissed it several times. She at first did not withdraw
it, and then, bending over, whispered, "Do not try to enter the city,
for they will hang thee, and I would not lose so true a friend." Here
her voice was very soft and low. I kissed her hand once again and she
was gone.
We watched their dark shadows down the road to the Highland outpost,
as they moved like great blots across the snow. I stood, I do not know
how long, gazing after them, when Dick's hand was on my shoulder.
"Never mind, Frisby," said he, "we shall win the city in the spring,
and then you may win her also."