How empty and weak are my words that try to tell of that day! I
doubt if there is in them anywhere what may suggest, even feebly,
the height and depth of that experience or one ray of the light in
her face. There are the words nearly as we said them; there are
the sighs, the glances, the tears: but everywhere there is much
missing--that fair young face and a thousand things irresistible
that drift in with every tide of high feeling. Of my history there
is not much more to write, albeit some say the best is untold.
I had never such a heart of lead as went with me to my work that
afternoon. What became of me I cared not a straw then, for I knew
my love was hopeless. D'ri met me as I got off my horse at the
Harbor. His keen eye saw my trouble quickly--saw near to the
bottom of it.
"Be'n hit?" said he, his great hand on my shoulder.
"With trouble," I answered. "Torn me up a little inside."
"Thought so," he remarked soberly. "Judas Priest! ye luk es ef a
shell 'ad bu'st 'n yer cockpit. Ain' nuthin' 'll spile a man
quicker. Sheer off a leetle an' git out o' range. An' 'member,
Ray, don't never give up the ship. Thet air 's whut Perry tol' us."
I said nothing and walked away, but have always remembered his
counsel, there was so much of his big heart in it. The army was to
move immediately, in that foolish campaign of Wilkinson that ended
with disaster at Chrysler's Farm. They were making the boats,
small craft with oars, of which three hundred or more would be
needed to carry us. We were to go eastward on the river and join
Hampden, whose corps was to march overland to Plattsburg, at some
point on the north shore. Word came, while I was away, that down
among the islands our enemy had been mounting cannon. It looked
as if our plan had leaked, as if, indeed, there were good chance of
our being blown out of water the first day of our journey. So,
before the army started, I was to take D'ri and eleven others, with
four boats, and go down to reconnoitre.
We got away before sundown that day, and, as dark came, were
passing the southwest corner of Wolf Island. I was leading the
little fleet, and got ashore, intending to creep along the edge and
rejoin them at the foot of the island. I had a cow-bell, muted
with cork, and was to clang it for a signal in case of need. Well,
I was a bit more reckless that night than ever I had been. Before
I had gone twenty rods I warned them to flee and leave me. I heard
a move in the brush, and was backing off, when a light flashed on
me, and I felt the touch of a bayonet. Then quickly I saw there
was no help for me, and gave the signal, for I was walled in.
Well, I am not going to tell the story of my capture. My sabre
could serve me well, but, heavens! it was no magic wand such as one
may read of in the story-books. I knew then it would serve me best
in the scabbard. There were few words and no fighting in the
ceremony. I gave up, and let them bind my arms. In two hours they
had me in jail, I knew not where. In the morning they let me send
a note to Lord Ronley, who was now barely two days out of his own
trouble. A week passed; I was to be tried for a spy, and saw
clearly the end of it all. Suddenly, a morning when my hopes were
gone, I heard the voice of his Lordship in the little corridor. A
keeper came with him to the door of my cell, and opened it.
"The doctor," said he.
"Well, well, old fellow," said Ronley, clapping me on the shoulder,
"you are ill, I hear."
"Really, I do not wish to alarm you," I said, smiling, "but--but it
does look serious."
He asked me to show my tongue, and I did so.
"Cheer up," said he, presently; "I have brought you this pill. It
is an excellent remedy."
He had taken from his pocket a brown pill of the size of a large
pea, and sat rolling it in his palm. Had he brought me poison?
"I suppose it is better than--"
He shot a glance at me as if to command silence, then he put the
pill in my palm. I saw it was of brown tissue rolled tightly.
"Don't take it now," said he; "too soon after breakfast. Wait half
an hour. A cup of water," he added, turning to the guard, who left
us for a moment.