IMPORTANT INFORMATION.
The suggestion of the unknown speaker that it would be impossible for
him to make his way toward the American lines without detection was by
no means comforting to Enoch.
It was a situation, however, which he had anticipated, for he
understood that the English would make every exertion to capture
the messenger who had carried information to General Lafayette, and
thereby, perhaps, saved him from capture.
In addition Enoch knew that the Tories would be most eager in their
present mood to make him prisoner, for now that it seemed certain
the city was to be evacuated, those who had been living a life of
ease and comparative plenty because of their loyalty to the king felt
particularly irritated against the Americans, who it was believed would
so soon change very decidedly this satisfactory condition of affairs.
Enoch wondered not a little who the speakers were, and why they had
chanced to halt directly outside his hiding-place.
From what he had heard he believed they were members of the army,
and it seemed strange they should have strayed down to the river
bank, until the apparent mystery was solved when one of them said
impatiently:
"At what hour did you understand that Lord Howe would send the boat for
us?"
"Eight o'clock."
"And this was the landing-place he appointed, was it not?"
"The messenger said the boat would be put in near-by a sloop which was
hauled up on the shore, and unless I am mistaken this is the only craft
of the kind in the vicinity."
"I wish we might have been able to take to Lord Howe the information
that the young rebel was apprehended, for I really believe he has not
recovered from the chagrin of having ordered the frigate to be made
ready with all dispatch to carry the Marquis de Lafayette a prisoner to
England when he had captured him."
"He will have the pleasure of hearing such news before midnight, as to
that there can be no doubt. You said you had a copy of the order which
is to be issued on the sixteenth?"
"Yes, I saw the rough draft on Sir Henry's desk, and asked permission
to make a copy for personal use. It may be the last order issued in the
rebel capital, and I thought might at some time prove a curiosity."
"Can you give me the substance of it without violating any confidence?"
"I think so. I was only enjoined to keep it a profound secret from the
civilians. It may be that it is yet sufficiently light for me to read
it."
Then ensued a brief silence, during which Enoch's heart beat a
triumphant tattoo, for he realized that now, when a moment previous
it had seemed as if all his opportunities for gaining information were
lost, he was about to learn that which General Washington was so eager
to know.
The fugitive crouched yet nearer the deck-planking as Lord Howe's
intended guest read slowly:
HEADQUARTERS, PHILADELPHIA, June 16, 1778.
"Lieutenant-General Knyphausen and Major-General Grant will
cross the river to-morrow at four o'clock in the morning with
the following regiments: Yagers, mounted and dismounted,
Queen's Rangers, Hessian Grenadiers, Second Battalion New
Jersey Volunteers,[C] Maryland Loyalists, Volunteers of
Ireland, and the Caledonian Volunteers. All wagons and carts,
with the wagons and bathorses[D] belonging to the general
and staff officers, are to be embarked this afternoon at
half-past three, at the upper coal wharf, and to-morrow at
six all the saddle horses belonging to the general and staff
officers are to be embarked at the same place, except two
for the commander-in-chief, and one for each of the general
officers. All the sick that are absolutely unable to march
are to be at Primrose's Wharf to-morrow morning at five
o'clock, where they will be received on board the Active."
"I fancied we would go around by water," Enoch heard one of the men say
after the order had been read; "but according to that it is evident we
shall march across New Jersey."
"I believe that was Sir Henry's first intention; but fearing head winds
might lengthen the passage, and that the rebel Washington would have an
opportunity to capture New York, he has decided no such risks should be
taken. For my part I am not unwilling to exchange this life of idleness
for one of action, and hope we may see plenty of it."
"It appears quite evident your wish will be granted, for it is reported
the rebels are in good condition for the summer campaign, and from the
fact that they have so insolently rejected his majesty's proffers of
peace I argue they are much stronger in numbers than ever before."
"However that may be, I care not; we shall soon whip out the
overweening confidence in their own abilities, and before this campaign
is ended I predict Congress will be suing for that which it has so
promptly refused. Here comes a boat, and, if I mistake not, we shall
learn considerably more of Sir Henry's intentions this evening than we
already know."
The sound of footsteps on the sand told that the officers were moving
toward the water's edge, and, shortly after, Enoch could distinguish
the click of oars in the rowlocks.
Then came the short, quick orders of the coxswain in charge of the
craft, and five minutes later a profound silence reigned.
The one thought now in Enoch's mind was, that he had learned that which
it was of the utmost importance General Washington should know.
For the moment he forgot that armed men were searching for him in
every direction, and that his capture was almost certain to be followed
immediately by an ignominious death.
He had accomplished the mission with which he and Greene were
intrusted, and it only remained to carry the information to
headquarters.
With this thought came once more the realization of his utter
helplessness and desperate situation.
It was possible he might remain undiscovered in his hiding-place until
sunrise; but no longer, for then the laborers would resume work upon
the sloop, and must unquestionably soon discover there was more in the
hold than they had left there the night previous.
"It is more than my own life now that I am working for," the boy said
to himself. "By repeating what I have heard General Washington will
have a chance to strike a blow at the Britishers, and I shall indeed
have been of service to the cause. That order is to be issued on the
sixteenth, and the enemy will begin to leave on the seventeenth. There
is plenty of time in which to carry the news, if I can succeed in
finding Greene."
Fully alive to the importance of what he had learned, Enoch was now
prepared to take greater risks than when it was only a question of
saving his own life.
The personal danger appeared to have been lessened, and the one idea in
his mind was to make known without unnecessary delay that which he had
learned.
No sound broke the stillness of the night as the boy clambered up from
his damp hiding-place until he could peer out through the hatchway.
The darkness shrouded everything, and as if the elements were in
sympathy with his purpose, heavy clouds obscured even the light of the
stars.
"I couldn't have a better chance, and if I don't get past the guards
which have been set it will be because I am stupid," Enoch thought
as he drew himself up to the combing of the hatchway and dropped
noiselessly down on the sand beneath.
Here he stood motionless an instant to listen.
In the distance could be heard the noises of the city, but close at
hand appeared to be no living thing save himself.
Following up the bank of the river to the creek, and then into Third
Street, he went cautiously, ready at any moment to break into a run, or
retreat as should be necessary.
To venture upon the street did not seem prudent, therefore he swam the
upper end of the creek, and made his way by a zigzag course, avoiding
the thoroughfares to traverse gardens and lawns, but all the while
continuing on in as nearly a direct course as was consistent with
safety toward the farmhouse where he believed Greene would be found.
More than once he heard the tramp of the patrol, and at such times
he doubled here and there, moving cautiously as an Indian, and on the
alert for the first sounds which should proclaim he was discovered.
An hour previous it had seemed impossible to him he could escape
even the ordinary number of guards; but now when he knew they had
been doubled, perhaps trebled, he instinctively--almost as if by
chance--avoided them, until he was beyond the city and on the road over
which Greene traveled when he brought his produce into the market.
Even now he knew he was far from safe, for squads of soldiers often
patrolled the country roads at a distance of four or five miles from
the town at a late hour in the night, and he fully believed that on
this occasion scouting parties would be sent in every direction.
Had he heard the orders given, however, he would have known that the
only precaution taken to prevent his escape was to double the number
of guards around the town, and that those who were searching for him
believed he was yet hidden in some building near the City Tavern.
Consequently a rigorous search was being instituted in that quarter,
while he was lessening each moment the distance between himself and the
American camp.
Even when he was so far out in the country that the lights of the city
could no longer be seen, he was afraid to travel at his utmost speed
lest he should inadvertently come upon the patrol; but stopped at short
intervals to listen.
Two hours passed, and during all this time he had continued steadily
onward, without having heard anything to arouse his fears.
"Who would have believed I could have given them the slip so readily,"
he said to himself. "I thought when I jumped on board the sloop that I
should only leave there as a prisoner, and perhaps if that order hadn't
been read where I could hear it, I'd still be crouching in the hold
waiting for the redcoats to pounce upon me. What a fool I was to so far
forget myself as to brush up against that Quaker! Even if they hadn't
suspected me of being a spy, I stood a chance of getting a flogging for
my impudence. Yet suppose I hadn't been discovered? Then I shouldn't
know the exact date set down for the evacuation of the city. Everything
has happened in my favor, and----"
He ceased speaking very suddenly, for in the distance he could hear
the sound of footsteps, and waiting only long enough to assure himself
there had been no mistake, Enoch darted into the bushes that lined the
road on either side at this point.
Then came the thought that it was nearly time for Greene to go into
town, and pressing as closely to the edge of the road as was possible
without showing himself, the boy waited until the pedestrian should
appear.
After a short time he saw a single figure approaching with a burden
upon his back; but the night was so dark that Enoch was unable to
determine whether this was the man whom he hoped to meet or some enemy.
He hesitated to make himself known until he realized that if the spy
should pass him he might have difficulty in carrying his news to Valley
Forge, and, regardless of possible danger, cried softly:
"Robert Greene!"
The figure halted, looked around for a moment, and then was apparently
about to resume the journey when Enoch asked in a low tone:
"Is that you, Mr. Greene?"
"I know no one of that name, and if it was mine wouldn't be willing to
own it to one who is afraid to show himself."
Enoch recognized the voice, and springing forward with an exclamation
of joy literally hugged the vegetable-laden spy.
"Is it you, Enoch?" Greene asked in surprise. "What has happened? Have
you been in danger?"
"I was discovered by a Quaker at whose house General Lafayette lodged
at Barren Hill, and seized by him and a British officer in front of the
City Tavern."
"But how did you escape?"
"Come with me into the bushes, for I am afraid men will be sent out on
this road, since you told the patrol I was in your employ."
When the two were screened from view of any who might chance to pass,
Enoch told his story in all its details, interrupted only by low
chuckles of satisfaction now and then, and exclamations of pleasurable
surprise when the more important portions of his adventures were
related.
"You have done a good work this night, lad! A brave work, and your
seeming misfortunes were the luckiest that ever befell man or boy. I
was not mistaken in you, lad."
"But I haven't done anything, Mr. Greene. It was all an accident, and
one that came very near costing my life."
"Never mind how it came about. The work has been done, and we can carry
to Valley Forge such news as has long been waited for--news that will
change the condition of affairs there very decidedly."
As he spoke Greene sprang to his feet, and seizing Enoch by the arm
went hurriedly into the road.
"Are you going to leave your market-truck?" Enoch asked.
"I would willingly leave everything on Rogers' farm to the mercy of
the Britishers after such word had been brought, my boy. Now step out
at your liveliest pace until we can get the horses, and then it is a
question of a quick ride to headquarters to announce the fact that our
work has been finished in the completest manner."
"But isn't it dangerous to go ahead too boldly? There may be soldiers
between here and the farm."
"I will answer for it there are none, lad, for haven't I just traveled
over this road? It is seldom they come out so far unless in goodly
force."
"I thought perhaps scouts might be sent in every direction, for the two
men whom I heard talking while I was in the sloop seemed very certain
I'd be captured."
"They are most likely looking for you in the city yet, and a rare
time they'll have of it. I would have been willing to give a good
many shillings if I could have seen the old Quaker's face when you
bowled him over. So he must have been the one who warned Howe of
General Lafayette's advance? We'll settle matters with him after
the evacuation, and there are one or two other Quakers who should be
attended to, particularly he who would have made prisoners of Generals
Reed and Cadwalader."
"I have never heard of him."
"Then I will tell you the story, and it isn't a bad one, seeing
that it didn't turn out to our disadvantage. The two generals were
reconnoitering the country, and stopped at the house of a Quaker with
whom they were acquainted. I don't remember his name. After leaving
him, and it may be certain he protested that he dearly loved the
cause, it began to rain, and Cadwalader and Reed, fearing lest their
blue cloaks should be injured by the water, turned them inside out.
Now it so chanced that these same cloaks were lined with red, and as
they returned past the house they had just visited, in the gloom of
the evening it was not unnatural that they should have been mistaken
for English officers. That is exactly the mistake the Quaker made,
and he rushed out quickly, shouting: 'Gentlemen, gentlemen, if you
will only turn back, you will certainly catch General Reed and General
Cadwalader, who have just gone down this road.' I'll lay guineas
to pence that he could have bitten his tongue when the two officers
made themselves known. And what a wigging they gave him! General Reed
promised that when the proper time came he would square accounts with
that man of peace, and I reckon he won't forget his word. Neither shall
I neglect the Quaker you tumbled over in front of the City Tavern. That
was a narrow escape for you, my boy."
"I don't care to try anything of the kind again," Enoch replied grimly.
"Not unless it could result as happily as this adventure has. You made
a mistake in being too eager to overhear the conversation, and by that
very mistake accomplished all we wanted to know."
Greene did not cease commenting upon the events of the evening and
congratulating Enoch, until they had arrived at the farmhouse where he
pretended to be employed.
There horses were procured with the least possible delay, and the
two set out toward Valley Forge at full speed, Enoch's heart beating
rapidly with joy and exultation, as he thought that at last he would
have an opportunity of speaking with General Washington, and would be
a welcome visitor.
Only at such times as it was absolutely necessary did the travelers
slacken their pace, and the sun had not yet risen when they were halted
by the pickets of the encampment.
Greene was provided with a password which would admit him without
delay, whatever the parole or the countersign might be, and after a
brief pause the two spies galloped at full speed up to the rude hut
where General Washington had lived during the severe winter.
"Robert Greene to see the commander-in-chief on urgent business," was
the reply to the challenge of the sentries who guarded the building,
and so well was the spy's name known that no hesitation was made in
awakening the general.
The two were ushered into the sleeping apartment, and there, as he lay
in bed, his face lighted up in anticipation of welcome news, Enoch saw
the commander whom he revered.
After Greene had hurriedly given the information they had brought, the
boy was made more than happy when Washington took him by the hand and
said:
"You are a brave lad, Enoch Ball. You have rendered good service, and
I thank you."
To be thanked by General Washington was a greater reward, in Enoch's
eyes, than a commission would have been in Jacob's, and he felt that
whatever the future might have in store for him he had been fully
repaid for everything by these three words from such a man.
"Will it be advisable, do you think, sir, for the boy to return to
Philadelphia?" Greene asked.
"Not to the town itself, while the British are in possession; but he
might remain at your rendezvous to act as messenger between there and
the camp, although I question if you will have any further important
information to bring us, unless it should chance that the order was not
issued."
"It is my desire, sir, to enlist as a soldier," Enoch said timidly.
"It would seem as if you already were one, save for the ceremony of
signing your name. Remain with Greene until some decided move is made,
and then it shall be my care to see that your desire is granted. In
the meantime you may consider yourself as attached to my staff in order
that there shall be no question about rations. Mr. Greene, you will see
that the boy messes with my aids while he is in camp."
Enoch was so overwhelmed by the honor thus conferred upon him as to be
hardly aware of what he did during the next few moments.
When Greene touched him on the arm to signify that the interview was at
an end and they should depart, he followed like one in a dream wherever
the spy led him, until the latter said, laying his hand heavily upon
the boy's shoulder:
"Haven't you a word of comment, lad, upon the honor you have received?
Let me tell you there are few men in the Continental army who wouldn't
be bristling with pride in your place."
"It doesn't seem possible! I cannot realize that the general really
meant it! _I_ mess with his aids!"
"But it is not only messing, lad; you are attached to his
staff--perhaps not in a very important position; but when it is
known that because of personal services you have rendered, the
commander-in-chief allows you to consider yourself one of the 'members
of his family,' as the staff is termed, you will be treated with
greater respect than if Congress had given you a colonel's commission."
"I know the honor is great," Enoch said slowly; "but I am almost
afraid----"
"Of what?"
"That in such a position I shall do something wrong--make a fool of
myself, or so behave that the general will be sorry he praised me."
"Never you fear for that, lad. A boy who can have such fears won't
go far astray. Attached to the staff of General Washington, the
commander-in-chief of the Continental army! Well, if that isn't an
honor for a boy hardly more than sixteen years old I don't know what
is! And it all came through a Tory Quaker, and the bungling of a spy in
his work! Talk about chance!"
"That's just it," Enoch added hurriedly. "It was all a chance,
therefore I don't deserve it."
"But I allow you do, my boy, so we won't discuss the matter. We're
heading straight now for my regiment, and I intend that your friends
shall hear this wonderful piece of news, even if I am forced to awaken
them for the purpose of telling it."
"Why not wait until daylight?"
"Because I particularly want to see the expression on Master Ludwick's
face when he learns that you have earned more than a commission."
"I am afraid Jacob will feel sore."
"Afraid? I know he will, and that's why I propose telling the news at
once."
"But he is a good friend, and was never as disagreeable as since
the night we carried the news to General Lafayette. Then he allowed
himself to believe we were to be made officers at once, and it was
disappointment that prevented him from acting as he would have done the
day before."
"He could never really have had the good of the cause at heart,
otherwise his father's threats would not have been necessary in order
to force him to enlist. However, I will take your word for it that
he is a good comrade; but at the same time I am bound he and all the
members of my regiment shall know what General Washington has said to
you this evening."
Footnotes:
[C] This was a portion of the Tory force which had been
recruited in New Jersey.
[D]A horse used for carrying the cooking utensils and similar
camp equipage.