Defeated at every point and with great loss, the British
columns had retired into the bed of the ravine, where,
shielded from the fire of the Americans, they lay several
hours shivering with cold and ankle deep in mud and water;
yet consoling themselves with the hope that the renewal
of the assault, under cover of the coming darkness, would
he attended with a happier issue. But the gallant General,
who appeared in the outset to have intended they should
make picks of their bayonets, and scaling-ladders of each
others bodies, now that a mound sufficient for the latter
purpose could be raised of the slain, had altered his
mind, and alarmed, and mayhap conscience stricken at the
profuse and unnecessary sacrifice of human life which
had resulted from the first wanton attack, adopted the
resolution of withdrawing his troops. This was at length
finally effected, and without further loss.
Fully impressed with the belief that the assailants would
not be permitted to forego the advantage they still
possessed in their near contiguity to the works, without
another attempt at escalade, the Americans had continued
calmly at their posts; with what confidence in the nature
of their defences, and what positive freedom from danger,
may be inferred from the fact of their having lost but
one man throughout the whole affair, and that one killed
immediately through the loop-hole by the shot that avenged
the death of poor Middlemore. When at a late hour they
found that the columns were again in movement, they could
scarcely persuade themselves they were not changing their
points of attack. A very few minutes however sufficed to
show their error, for in the indistinct light of a new
moon, the British troops were to be seen ascending the
opposite face of the ravine and in full retreat. Too well
satisfied with the successful nature of their defence,
the Americans made no attempt to follow, but contented
themselves with pouring in a parting volley, which however
the obscurity rendered ineffectual. Soon afterwards the
sally-port was again opened, and such of the unfortunates
as yet lingered alive in the trenches were brought in,
and every attention the place could afford paid to their
necessities.
An advanced hour of the night brought most of the American
officers together in their rude mess-room, where the
occurrences of the day were discussed with an enthusiasm
of satisfaction natural to the occasion. Each congratulated
each on the unexpected success, but commendation was more
than usually loud in favor of their leader, to whose
coolness and judgment, in reserving his fire until the
approach of the enemy within pistol shot, was to be
attributed the severe loss and consequent check they had
sustained.
Next became the topic of eulogium the gallantry of those
who had been worsted in all but their honor, and all
spoke with admiration of the devotedness of the two
unfortunate officers who had perished in the trenches--
a subject which, in turn, led to a recollection of the
brave soldier who had survived the sweeping discharge
from the bastion, and who had been so opportunely saved
from destruction by the Commandant himself.
"Captain Jackson," said that officer, addressing one of
the few who wore the regular uniform of the United States'
army, "I should like much to converse with this man, in
whom I confess, as in some degree the preserver of his
life, I feel an interest. Moreover, as the only uninjured
among our prisoners, he is the one most calculated to
give us information in regard to the actual force of
those whom we have this day had the good fortune to
defeat, as well as of the ultimate destination of the
British General. Notes of both these important particulars,
if I can possibly obtain them, I wish to make in a despatch
of which I intend you to be the bearer."
The Aid-de-Camp, for in that capacity was he attached to
the person of Colonel Forrester, immediately quitted the
room, and presently afterwards returned ushering in the
prisoner.
Although Gerald was dressed, as we have said, in the
uniform of the private grenadier, there was that about
him which, in defiance of a person covered from head to
foot with the slimy mud of the trenches, and a mouth
black as ink with powder from the cartridges he had
bitten, at once betrayed him for something more than he
appeared.
There was a pause for some moments after he entered. At
length Colonel Forrester inquired, in a voice strongly
marked by surprise:--
"May I ask, sir, what rank you hold in the British army?"
"But that I have unfortunately suffered more from your
mud than your fire," replied Gerald coolly, and with
undisguised bitterness of manner, "the question would at
once be answered by a reference my uniform."
"I understand you, sir; you would have me to infer you
are what your dress, and your dress alone, denotes--a
private soldier?"
Gerald made no answer.
"Your name, soldier?"
"My name!"
"Yes; your name. One possessed of the gallantry we
witnessed this day cannot be altogether without a name."
The pale cheek of Gerald was slightly tinged. With all
his grief, he still was man. The indirect praise lingered
a moment at his heart, then passed off with the slight
blush that as momentarily dyed his cheek.
"My name, sir, is a humble one, and little worthy to be
classed with those who have this day written theirs in
the page of honor with their heart's blood. I am called
Gerald Grantham."
"Gerald Grantham!" repeated the Commandant, musingly, as
though endeavoring to bring back the recollection of such
a name.
The prisoner looked at him stedfastly in return, yet
without speaking.
"Is there another of your name in the British squadron?"
continued Colonel Forrester, fixing his eye full upon
his prisoner.
"There are many in the British squadron whose names are
unknown to me," replied Gerald, evasively, and faintly
coloring.
"Nay," said Colonel Forrester, "that subterfuge more than
any thing betrays you. Though not answered, I am satisfied.
How we are to account for seeing a gallant sailor attacking
us in our trenches, in the humble garb of a private soldier,
and so out of his own element, I cannot understand; but
the name of Gerald Grantham, coupled with your manner and
appearance, assures us we are making personal acquaintance
with one to whose deeds we are not strangers. Gentlemen,"
addressing his officers, "this is the Lieutenant Grantham,
whose vessel was captured last autumn at Buffalo, and of
whose gallant defence, my cousin, Captain Edward Forrester,
has spoken so highly. Lieutenant Grantham," he pursued,
advancing, and offering his hand, "when I had the happiness
to save your life this day, by dashing aside the fuze that
would have been the agent in your destruction, I saw in
you but the brave and humble soldier, whom it were disgrace
not to have spared for so much noble daring. Judge how
great must be my satisfaction to know that I have been the
means of preserving, to his family and country, one whose
name stands so high even in the consideration of his
enemies."
Poor Gerald! how bitter and conflicting must have been
his feelings at that moment. On the one side, touched by
the highest evidences of esteem a brave and generous
enemy could proffer--on the other, annoyed beyond expression
at the recollection of an interposition which had thwarted
him in his fondest, dearest hope--that of losing, at the
cannon's mouth, the life he loathed. What had been done
in mercy and noble forbearance, was to him the direst
punishment that could be inflicted:--yet how was it
possible to deny gratitude for the motive which had
impelled his preservation, or fail in acknowledgment of
the appreciation in which he thus found himself personally
held.
"It would be idle, Colonel Forrester," he said, taking
the proffered hand, "after the manner in which you have
expressed yourself, to deny that I am the officer to whom
you allude. I feel deeply these marks of your regard,
although I cannot but consider any little merit that may
attach to me very much overrated by them. My appearance
in this dress, perhaps requires some explanation.
Presented by the shallowness of the river from co-operating
with the army in my gun-boat, and tired of doing nothing,
I had solicited and obtained permission to become one of
the storming party in the quality of volunteer, which of
necessity induced the garb in which you now behold me.
You know the rest."
"And yet, Colonel," said a surly-looking backwoodsman,
who sat with one hand thrust into the bosom of a hunting
frock, and the other playing with the richly ornamented
hilt of a dagger, while a round hat, surmounted by a huge
cockade, was perched knowingly over his left ear, covering,
or rather shadowing, little more than one fourth of his
head--"I reckon as how this here sort of thing comes
within the spy act. Here's a commissioned officer of
King George, taken not only in our lines, but in our very
trenches in the disguise of a private soger. What say
you, Captain Buckhorn?" turning to one somewhat younger
and less uncouth, who sat nest him habited in a similar
manner. "Don't you think it comes within the spy act?"
Captain Buckhorn, however, not choosing to hazard an
opinion on the subject, merely shrugged his shoulders,
puffed his cigar, and looked at the Colonel as if he
expected him to decide the question.
"As I am a true Tennessee man, bred and born, Major
Killdeer," said the Aid-de-Camp Jackson, "I can't see
how that can lie. To come within the spy act, a man must
be in plain clothes, or in the uniform of his enemy. Now,
Liftenant Grantham, I take it, comes in the British
uniform, and what signifies a whistle if he wears gold
lace or cotton tape, provided it be stuck upon a scarlet
coat, and that in the broad face of day, with arms in
his hand,--aye, and a devil of a desperation to make good
use of them too"--he added, with a good naturedly malicious
leer of the eye towards the subject of his defence.
"At all events, in my conceit, it's an attempt to undervally
himself," pursued the tenacious Kentuckian Major. "Suppose
his name warn't known as it is, he'd have passed for a
private soger, and would have been exchanged for one,
without our being any the wiser; whereby the United
States' service, I calculate, would have lost an officer
in the balance of account."
"Although there cannot be the slightest difficulty,"
observed Colonel Forrester, "in determining on the doubt
first started by you, Major Killdeer, I confess, that
what you have now suggested involves a question of some
delicacy. In the spirit, although not altogether in the
letter, of your suggestion, I agree; so much so, Mr.
Grantham," he added, turning to Gerald, "that in violence
to the inclination I should otherwise have felt to send
you back to your lines, on parole of honor, I shall be
compelled to detain you until the pleasure of my government
be known as to the actual rank in which you are to be
looked upon. I should say that, taken in arms as a
combatant without rank, we have no right to know you as
any thing else; but as I may be in error, I am sure you
will see how utterly impossible it is for me to take any
such responsibility upon myself, especially after the
difficulty you have just heard started."
Gerald, who had listened to this discussion with some
astonishment, was not sorry to find the manner of its
termination. In the outset he had not been without alarm
that the hero of one hour might be looked upon and hanged
as the spy of the next; and tired as he was of life, much
as he longed to lay it down, his neck had too invincible
a repugnance to any thing like contact with a cord to
render him ambitious of closing his existence in that
way. He was not at all sorry, therefore, when he found
the surly looking Major Killdeer wholly unsupported in
his sweeping estimate of what he called the "spy act."
The gentlemanly manner of Colonel Forrester, forming as
it did so decided a contrast with the unpolished--even
rude frankness of his second in command, was not without
soothing influence upon his mind, and to his last
observation he replied, as he really felt, that any change
in his views as to his disposal could in no way effect
him, since it was a matter of total indifference whether
he returned to Amherstburg, or was detained where he was.
In neither case could he actively rejoin the service
until duly exchanged, and this was the only object embraced
in any desire he might entertain of the kind.
"Still," added the Colonel, "although I may not suffer
you to return yet into Canada, I can see no objection to
according you the privilege of parole of honor, without
at all involving the after question of whether you are
to be considered as the soldier or the officer. From this
moment therefore, Mr. Grantham, you will consider yourself
a prisoner at large within the fort--or, should you prefer
journeying into the interior, to sharing the privations
and the dullness inseparable from our isolated position,
you are at liberty to accompany Captain Jackson, my
Aid-de-Camp, who will leave this within thirty-six hours,
charged with dispatches for the Governor of Kentucky."
Gerald had already acknowledged to himself that, if any
thing could add to his wretchedness, it would he a
compulsory residence in a place not only destitute itself
of all excitement, but calling up, at every hour, the
images of his brave companions in danger--men whom he
had known when the sun of his young hopes shone unclouded,
and whom he had survived but to be made sensible of the
curse of exemption from a similar fate; still, with that
instinctive delicacy of a mind whose natural refinement
not even a heavy weight of grief could wholly deaden, he
felt some hesitation in giving expression to a wish, the
compliance with which would, necessarily, separate him
from one who had so courteously treated him, and whom he
feared to wound by an appearance of indifference.
"I think, Mr. Grantham," pursued Colonel Forrester,
remarking his hesitation, "I can understand what is
passing in your mind. However I beg you will suffer no
mere considerations of courtesy to interfere with your
inclination. I can promise you will find this place most
dismally dull, especially to one who has no positive duty
to perform in it. If I may venture to recommend, therefore,
you will accompany Captain Jackson. The ride will afford
you more subject for diversion than any thing we can
furnish here."
Thus happily assisted in his decision. Gerald said,
"since, Sir, you leave it optional with me, I think I
shall avail myself of your kind offer and accompany
Captain Jackson. It is not a very cheering sight," he
pursued, anxious to assign a satisfactory reason for his
choice, "to have constantly before one's eyes the scene
of so signal a discomfiture as that which our arms have
experienced this day."
"And yet," said Colonel Forrester, "despite of that
discomfiture, there was nothing in the conduct of those
engaged that should call a blush into the cheek of the
most fastidious stickler for national glory. There is
not an officer here present," he continued, "who is not
prepared to attest with myself, that your column in
particular behaved like heroes. By the way, I could wish
to know, (but you will use your own discretion in answering
or declining the question, recollect,) what was the actual
strength of your attacking force?"
"I can really see no objection to a candid answer to your
question, Colonel," returned Gerald, after a moment's
consideration. "Each division was, I believe, for I cannot
state with certainty, little more than two hundred strong,
making in all, perhaps, from six hundred to six hundred
and fifty men. In return, may I ask, the number of those
who so effectually repulsed us?"
"Why I guess only one hundred and fifty, and most all my
volunteers," somewhat exultingly exclaimed Major Killdeer.
"Only one hundred and fifty men!" repeated Gerald, unable
to disguise his vexation and astonishment.
"That ere's a poser for him," said the Major, turning
and addressing Captain Buckhorn in an undertone, who
replied to him with a wink from his nearest eye.
"Even so, Mr. Grantham," replied the Colonel. "One hundred
and fifty men of all arms, save artillery, composed my
force at the moment when your columns crossed the plain.
To-night we muster one hundred and forty nine."
"Good Heaven!" exclaimed Gerald warming into excitement,
with vexation and pique, "what a disgraceful affair."
"Disgraceful, yes--but only in as far as regards those
who planned, and provided (or rather ought to have
provided) the means of attack. I can assure you, Mr.
Grantham, that although prepared to defend my post to
the last, when I saw your columns first emerge from the
wood, I did not expect, with my small force, to have been
enabled to hold the place one hour; for who could have
supposed that even a school boy, had such been placed at
the head of an army, would have sent forward a storming
party, without either fascines to fill a trench, or
ladders to ascend from it when filled. Had these been
provided, there can be no doubt of the issue, for, to
repulse the attempt at escalade in one quarter, I must
have concentrated the whole of my little force--and
thereby afforded an unopposed entrance to the other
columns--or even granting my garrison to have been
sufficient to keep two of your divisions in check, there
still remained a third to turn the scale of success
against us."
"I can understand the satisfaction with which you discovered
this wretched bungling on the part of our leaders," remarked
Gerald with vexation.
"No sooner had I detected the deficiency," pursued Colonel
Forrester, "than I knew the day would be my own, since
the obstacles opposed to your attempt would admit of my
spreading my men over the whole line embraced within the
attack. The result, you see has justified my expectation.
But enough of this. After the fatigues of the day you
must require both food and rest. Captain Jackson, I leave
it to you to do the honors of hospitality towards Mr.
Grantham, who will so shortly become your fellow traveller,
and if, when he has performed the ablutions he seems so
much to require, my wardrobe can furnish any thing your
own cannot supply to transform him into a backwoodsman,
(in which garb I would strongly advise him to travel,)
I beg it may be put under contribution without ceremony."
So saying, Colonel Forrester departed to the rude log
hut that served him for his head quarters, first enjoining
his uncouth second to keep a sufficient number of men on
the alert, and take such other precautions as were
necessary to guard against surprise--an event, however,
of which little apprehension was entertained, now that
the British troops appeared to have been wholly withdrawn.
Sick, wearied, and unhappy, Gerald was but too willing
to escape to the solitude of retirement, to refuse the
offer which Captain Jackson made of his own bed, it being
his intention to sit up all night in the mess room, ready
to communicate instantly with the Colonel in the event
of any alarm. Declining the pressing invitation of the
officers to join in the repast they were about to make
for the first time since the morning, and more particularly
that of Captain Buckhorn, who strongly urged him to "bring
himself to an anchor and try a little of the Wabash," he
took a polite but hasty leave of them all, and was soon
installed for the night in the Aid-de-Camp's dormitory.
It would be idle to say that Gerald never closed his eyes
that night--still more idle would it be to attempt a
description of all that passed through a mind whose extent
of wretchedness may be inferred from his several desperate,
although unsuccessful, efforts at the utter annihilation
of all thought. When he met Colonel Forrester and his
officers in the mess room at breakfast, he was dressed,
as had been recommended, in the hunting frock and belt
of a backwoodsman; and in this, his gentlemanly figure
looked to such advantage as to excite general attention
--so much so indeed, that Major Killdeer was more than
once detected in eying his own heavy and uncouth person,
as if to ascertain if the points of excellence were
peculiar to the dress or to the man. Sick and dispirited
as he was, Gerald felt the necessity of an attempt to
rally, and however the moralist may condemn the principle,
there is no doubt that he was considerably aided in his
effort by one or two glasses of bitters which Captain
Buckhorn strongly recommended as being of his wife's
making, and well calculated to put some colour into a
man's face--an advantage in which, he truly remarked,
Grantham was singularly deficient.
Accurate intelligence having been obtained from a party
of scouts, who had been dispatched early in the morning
to track their course, that the British General with his
troops and Indians had finally departed, preparations
were made about midday for the interment of the fallen.
Two large graves were accordingly dug on the outer brow
of the ravine, and into these the bodies of the fallen
soldiers were deposited with all the honors of war. A
smaller grave, within the fort, and near the spot where
they so nobly fell, was considerately allotted to Cranstoun
and Middlemore. There was a composedness on the brow of
the former that likened him, even in death, to the living
man; while, about the good-humoured mouth of poor
Middlemore, played the same sort of self satisfied smile
that had always been observable there, when about to
deliver himself of a sally. Gerald, who had imposed upon
himself the painful duty of attending to their last
committal to earth, could not help fancying that Middlemore
must have breathed his last with an inaudible pun upon
his lips--an idea that inexpressibly affected him. Weighed
down with sorrow as was his own soul, he had yet a tear
for the occasion--not that his brave comrades were dead,
but that they had died with so much to attach them to
life--while he whose hope was in death alone had been
chained, as by a curse, to an existence compared with
which death was the first of human blessings.
On the following morning, after an early breakfast, he
and Captain Jackson quitted the fort--Colonel Forrester,
(who had appeared to remark that the brusque manner of
his Aid-de-Camp was not altogether understood by his
charge,) taking occasion at parting to assure the latter
that, with all his eccentricity he was a kind hearted
man, whom he had selected to be near him more for his
personal courage, zeal, and general liberality of feeling,
than for any qualifications of intellect he possessed.
The means provided for their transport into the interior
were well assimilated to the dreariness of the country
through which they passed. Two common pack horses, lean,
galled by the saddle, and callous from long acquaintance
with the admonitory influence both of whip and spur, had
been selected by Captain Jackson as the best within the
fort, and, as a first evidence of the liberality ascribed
to him by his Commander, the fastest of these (if a choice
there was) he selected for his own use. Neither were the
trappings out of keeping with the steeds they decked.
Moth eaten saddles, almost black with age, beneath which
were spread pieces of dirty blanket to prevent further
excoriation of the already bared and reeking back--bridles,
the original thickness of which had been doubled by the
incrustation of mould and dirt that pertinaciously adhered
to them--stirrups and bits, with their accompanying
buckles (the absence of curb chains being supplied by
pieces of rope) covered with the rust of half a century
--all afforded evidence of the wretchedness of resource
peculiar to a back settlement population. Over the hard
saddles, however, had been strapped the blankets which,
when the travellers were fortunate enough to meet with
a hut at the close of their day's ride, or, as was more
frequently the case, when compelled to bivouac in the
forest before the fire kindled by the industry of the
hardy Aid-de-Camp, served them as their only couch of
rest, while the small leather valise tied to the pummel
of the saddle, and containing their scanty wardrobe, was
made to do the duty of the absent pillow. The blanket
Gerald found to be the greatest advantage of his grotesque
equipment--so much so indeed, that when compelled, by
the heavy rains which took place shortly after their
departure, to make it serve after the fashion of a
backwoodsman as a covering for his loins and shoulders,
he was obliged to own that his miseries, great as they
were, were yet susceptible of increase.
Notwithstanding Captain Jackson had taken what, he
considered to be, the best of the two Rosinantes for
himself, Gerald had no reason to deny the character for
kind-heartedness given of him by Colonel Forrester.
Frequently, when winding through some dense forest, or
moving over some extensive plain where nothing beyond
themselves told of the existence of man, his companion
would endeavour to divert him from the abstraction and
melancholy in which he was usually plunged, and, ascribing
his despondency to an unreal cause, seek to arouse him
by the consolatory assurance that he was not the first
man who had been taken prisoner--adding, that there was
no use in snivelling, as "what was done couldn't be
undone, and no great harm neither, as there was some as
pretty gals in Kaintuck as could be picked out in a day's
ride; and that to a good looking young fellow like himself,
with nothing to do but to make love to them, THAT ought
to be no mean consideration, enabling him, as it would,
to while away the tedium of captivity." At other times
he would launch forth into some wild rhapsody, the
invention of the moment, or seek to entertain his companion
with startling anecdotes connected with his encounters
with the Indians on the Wabash, (where he had formerly
served,) in the course of which much of the marvellous,
to call it by the most indulgent term, was necessarily
mixed up--not perhaps that he was quite sensible of this
himself, but because he possessed a constitutional
proneness to exaggeration that rendered him even more
credulous of the good things he uttered than those to
whom he detailed them.
But Gerald heard without being amused, and, although he
felt thankful for the intention, was distressed that his
abstraction should be the subject of notice, and his
despondency the object of care. To avoid this he frequently
suffered Jackson to take the lead, and following some
distance in the rear with his arms folded and the reins
loose upon his horse's neck, often ran the risk of having
his own neck broken by the frequent stumbling of the
unsure-footed beast. But the Captain as often returned
to the charge, for, in addition to a sincere desire to
rally his companion, he began at length to find it
exceedingly irksome to travel with one who neither spoke
himself nor appeared to enjoy speech in another; and when
he had amused himself with whistling, singing, hallooing,
and cutting a thousand antics with his arms, until he
was heartily tired of each of these several diversions,
he would rein in his horse to suffer Gerald to come up,
and, after a conciliating offer of his rum flask,
accompanied by a slice of hung beef that lined the wallet
depending from his shoulder, (neither of which were often
refused,) enter upon some new and strange exploit, of
which he was as usual the hero. Efforced in a degree to
make some return for the bribe offered to his patience,
Gerald would lend--all he could--his ear to the tale;
but long before the completion he would give such evidence
of his distraction as utterly to disconcert the narrator,
and cause him finally to have recourse to one of the
interludes above described.
In this manner they had journeyed some days, when the
rains suddenly commenced with a violence, and continued
with a pertinacity, that might have worn out the
cheerfulness of much less impatient spirits than those
of our travellers, who, without any other protection than
what was afforded by the blanket tightly girt round the
loins, and fastened over the shoulder, in front of the
chest, presented an appearance quite as wild as the waste
they traversed. It was in vain, that in order to promote
a more rapid circulation, they essayed to urge their
jaded beasts out of the jog-trot in which they had set
out. Accustomed to this from the time when they first
emerged from colthood into horsehood, the aged steeds,
like many aged senators of their day, were determined
enemies to any thing like innovation on the long established
customs of their caste; and although, unlike the said
senators, they were made to bear all the burdens of the
state, still did they not suffer themselves to be driven
out of the sluggish habits in which sluggish animals, of
every description, seem to feel themselves privileged to
indulge. Whip and spur therefore were alike applied in
vain, as to any accelerated motion in themselves; but
with this advantage at least to their riders, that, while
the latter toiled vigorously for an increase of vital
warmth, through the instrumentality of their con-complying
hacks, they found it where they least seemed to look for
it--in the mingled anger and activity which kept them
at the fruitless task.
It was at the close of one of those long days of wearying
travel throughout a vast and unsheltered plain, (where
only here and there rose an occasional cluster of trees,
like oases in the desert,) that, drenched to the skin
with the steady rain which, commencing with the dawn,
had continued without a moment's intermission, they
arrived at a small log-hut, situate on the skirt of a
forest forming one of the boundaries of the vast savannah
they had traversed. Such was the unpromising appearance
of this apology for a human dwelling that, under any
other circumstances, even the "not very d----d particular"
Jackson, as the Aid-de-Camp often termed himself, would
have passed it by without stopping; but after a long
day's ride, and suffering from the greatest evils to
which a traveller can well be subjected--cold, wet, and
hunger--even so wretched a resting-place as this was not
to be despised; and accordingly a determination was formed
to stop there for the night. On riding up to the door,
it was opened to their knock, when a tall man--apparently
its only occupant, came forth--and, after surveying the
travellers a moment with a suspicious eye, inquired "what
the stranngers wanted?"
"Why, I guess," said Jackson, "it doesn't need much
conjuration to tell that. Food and lodging for ourselves,
to be sure; and a wisp of hay and tether for our horses.
--Hospitality in short; and that's what no true Tennessee
man, bred and born, ever refused yet. No, not even to an
enemy, such a night as this."
"Then you must go further in search of it," replied the
woodsman, surlily, "I don't keep no tavern, and ha'nt
got no accommodation; and what's more, I reckon, I'm no
Tennessee man."
"But any accommodation will do, friend. If you hav'nt
got beds, we'll sit up all night, and warm our toes at
the fire, and spin long yarns, as they tell in the Eastern
sea-ports. Anything but turn a fellow out such a night
as this."
"But I say, strannger," returned the man, fiercely and
determinedly, "I a'nt got no room any how, and you shan't
bide here."
"Oh, ho! my old cock, that's the ticket, is it? but you'll
see whether an old stager, like me, is to be turned out
of any man's house such a night as this. I hav'nt served
two campaigns against the Ingins and the British for
nothing; and here I rest for the night."
So saying, the determined Jackson coolly dismounted from
his horse, and unbuckling the girth, proceeded to deposit
the saddle, with the valise attached to it, within the
hut the door of which still stood open.
The woodsman, perceiving his object, made a movement, as
if to bar the passage; but Jackson, with great activity,
seized him by the wrist of the left hand, and, all powerful
as the ruffian was, sent him dancing some few yards in
front of the threshold before he was aware of his intention,
or could resist the peculiar knack with which it was
accomplished. The Aid-de-Camp, meanwhile, had deposited
his saddle in a corner near the fire, and on his return
to the door, met the inhospitable woodsman advancing as
if to court a personal encounter.
"Now, I'll tell you what it is, friend," he said calmly,
throwing hack at the same time the blanket that concealed
his uniform, and--what was more imposing--a brace of
large pistols stuck in his belt. "you'd better have no
nonsense with me, I promise you, or--" and he tapped with
the fore finger of his right hand upon the butt of one
of them, with an expression that could not be misunderstood.
The woodsman seemed little awed by this demonstration.
He was evidently one on whom it might have been dangerous
for one man, however well armed, to have forced his
presence, so far away from every other human habitation;
and it is probable that his forbearance then arose from
the feet of their being two opposed to him, for he glanced
rapidly from one to the other, nor was it until he seemed
to have mentally decided that the odds of two to one were
somewhat unequal, that he at length withdrew himself out
of the door-way, as if in passive assent to the stay he
could not well prevent.
"Just so, my old cock," continued Jackson, finding that
he had gained his point, "and when you speak of this
again, don't forget to say it was a true Tennessee man,
bred and born, that gave you a lesson in what no American
ever wanted--hospitality to a stranger. Suppose you begin
and make yourself useful, by tethering and foddering old
spare bones."
"I reckon as how you've hands as well as me," rejoined
the surly woodsman, "and every man knows the ways of his
own beast best. As for fodder, they'll find it on the
skirt of the wood, and where natur' planted it."
Gerald meanwhile, finding victory declare itself in favor
of his companion, had followed his example and entered
the hut with his saddle. As he again quitted it, a sudden
flash of light from the fire, which Jackson was then in
the act of stirring, fell upon the countenance of the
woodsman who stood without, his arms folded and his brow
scowling, as if planning some revenge for the humiliation
to which he had been subjected. In the indistinct dusk
of the evening Grantham had not been able to remark more
than the outline of the figure; but the voice struck him
as one not unknown to him, although somewhat harsher in
its tones than that which his faint recollection of the
past supplied. The glance he had now obtained, momentary
as it was, put every doubt to rest. What his feelings
were in recognizing in the woodsman the traitor settler
of the Canadas, Jeremiah Desborough, we leave to our
readers to infer.