"Did I understand you to ask where my prisoner was, Lieutenant Belfort?"
I asked.
Both he and Schwarzfelder nodded.
"Permit me to remark that this is very extraordinary," I said,
continuing my haughty manner, which suited my state of mind. "I am sent
on a secret errand of great importance by Sir William Howe, and before I
can report to him I am called to account concerning it in the streets of
Philadelphia by one of his Majesty's sub-lieutenants. Or perhaps I have
made a mistake, and General Howe has resigned in your favor. Do I have
the pleasure of addressing General Belfort, and not Lieutenant Belfort?"
I gave him an extremely polite bow as I added the last sentence, and my
tone grew most humble. But he did not seem to appreciate my homage. His
face turned red.
"Lieutenant Melville," he said, "I shall have satisfaction for this
insolence."
"Don't make a fuss about it," I said lightly. "I was merely speaking for
your good, because if I had reported to you earlier than to Sir William
he might have resented it. Still, I don't mind telling you, lieutenant,
that we did not find the man, although we searched the house most
thoroughly."
I was now happy, feeling my triumph somewhat, which may account for my
levity; but the mention of the prisoner again set Belfort on fire.
"Did you look everywhere?" he asked eagerly. "It is certain that he took
refuge there."
"Oh yes, sir!" interrupted Blathwayt, touching his cap, "we searched
every square inch of the house, and it was impossible for a man to be
hid there, and us not find him."
It was disrespectful of Blathwayt to interrupt when his superiors were
talking, but for obvious reasons I did not correct him.
"He must have been there! he must have been there!" repeated Belfort, in
disappointed tones. "Schwarzfelder says that he saw him dart among the
shrubbery around the house, and he did not come out of it again last
night."
So it was Schwarzfelder who had played the spy! But even so, he had not
seen me give Alloway the warning or he would have betrayed me at once. I
began to bear towards Schwarzfelder a feeling akin to that I felt for
Belfort.
"I think that Colonel Schwarzfelder must have been mistaken," I said.
"It is well known that our valiant Hessian officers often see double,
especially when it is so late at night. Forward, march, men!"
I gave the order in a loud, peremptory tone, and my soldiers marched at
once in their stiffest and most precise manner. Schwarzfelder was
standing in the middle of the pavement, and they would have walked into
him had he not skipped to one side in the most undignified way. I think
that they would have been glad to do it, as generally the English
soldiers hated the Hessians.
Schwarzfelder glowered at me, first because I had taunted him with his
German drunkenness and the memory of his ejection from Sir William's
headquarters, and secondly because in a metaphorical sense I had thrown
him off the sidewalk. But he said nothing. He was choking too badly over
his German wrath to enunciate words. I marched on with my men, leaving
him and Belfort to concoct whatever mischief they would.
The man Waters, whom in truth I dreaded more than either Belfort or
Schwarzfelder, had drawn somewhat nearer and was gazing steadily at me.
"Are you too looking for this American soldier, Waters?" I asked. "It
seems that the commander-in-chief is receiving a great deal of voluntary
assistance."
"Your pardon, sir," said Waters, with respect, or the assumption of it,
"but I could not help hearing what the search was about, and I was
merely wondering if that old rebel John Desmond was caught at last."
"Mr. Desmond may be a rebel," I replied angrily, "but it is not for you
to speak of him in such a manner."
"I beg your pardon, sir, if I was presumptuous," he said meekly,
dropping his eyes. Yet I was sure that he was deriding me, and I walked
off, feeling an unpleasant chill again. I reported duly to Sir William
that the search had brought forth nothing, and he expressed
disappointment.
"I cannot understand how the man escaped," he said thoughtfully. "It was
told to me that he was in the Desmond house, and I should have been glad
to find him there, because it would give me a power over this rebellious
old Quaker which I should be glad to use. I chose you for the task
because I felt sure of your loyalty and devotion to the king, and also I
know that you are a good friend of mine. There might have been promotion
in it for you."
I thanked him humbly for his consideration, and I began to feel that the
well-meant friendship of Sir William Howe would prove troublesome. Yet I
was able to preserve a thankful countenance. Then he excused me, saying,
as I departed, that I might look for further rewards at his hands, even
in the short time left to him. Again I gave him thanks, and went out
into the street, where I knew that I should find some of my new comrades
ogling the pretty Philadelphia maids. The first that I beheld were
Marcel and Vincent Moore, walking arm in arm. Marcel was in a splendid
new uniform that fairly glittered with gold lace,--where he got it he
has never told me, although I suppose that promptly after its arrival
from England he won it at cards from some brother officer, perhaps from
Harding, the new cousin, as they were about of a size and the uniform
fitted Marcel beautifully. Moore also had achieved his utmost splendor,
looking almost as fine as Marcel, and I saw clearly that the two were
out to "kill" whatever beauty came their way.
"And you did not find the man, Melville?" exclaimed Marcel, seizing me
by the arm; I was sure that he had heard the vain result of the search.
"If the bird was ever there, it had flown before our arrival," I
replied, putting as much regret into my tones as I could.
"Then let war go! Come with us and look for the smiles of beauty," said
Marcel, in his high flown manner. In truth, after inviting me, they gave
me no choice, for Marcel took me by one arm and Moore by the other, and
I could not escape swaggering on with them. I felt such relief from the
situation of the morning, and the sunshine was so brilliant and
inspiring, that I began to share their exultant views of life. We
presently met Miss Rankin and another girl whom we knew, and, turning in
our course, we walked beside them, exchanging the courtesies of the day,
pouring out extravagant compliments, and otherwise behaving in a manner
not unusual to masculine youth on such occasions.
Marcel, with incredible effrontery, began to tell some of the latest
news about people of fashion in London, speaking as if he knew them
intimately. I supposed that he had picked up the gossip, like the
uniform, from Harding. This lasted a full ten minutes, and then we met
Miss Desmond and her father, also walking in the sunshine. We gave them
most ornate salutations, but their reply was not in kind. Miss Desmond's
slight bow was accompanied by a look of surprise and disdain directed
towards me. I know that I reddened under the glance, for, in truth, I
became suddenly ashamed of myself, being fully aware that I had been
behaving like a Jack o' dandy with more youth than brains. But there was
no escape for me, and I walked on with my chattering companions,
suddenly become silent, although they did not notice it, since they were
making so much noise themselves. The ladies left us in another ten
minutes, and then I would have excused myself from Marcel and Moore, but
they would not hear of it.
"If we don't keep you, you will get into mischief," said Marcel, with a
significance that Moore did not see, and they retained hold of my arms.
Shortly after, our party was increased by Vivian and Catron, and we
filled the sidewalk from edge to edge, all talking in lively fashion
except myself, Marcel being in his element. In truth, there was no need
that I should talk, since Marcel and Moore were doing enough and to
spare for us all. They continued to twirl their mustaches and look for
the pretty maids, but our next acquaintances who approached us were men
not maids, being, in truth, Belfort, Schwarzfelder, and Graves, arm in
arm, with the German in the centre. They walked straight towards us, and
I saw that unless either they or we turned aside, a most unpleasant
collision would occur, as the sidewalk was narrow. I observed no
evidence of an intent on the part of either my comrades or Belfort and
his friends to change their course, and I was annoyed excessively at the
prospect of a collision and a quarrel. In fact, I have never felt any
desire to be a swaggerer, and I began to wonder how I could get out of
the difficulty. If the others insisted upon trouble for themselves, they
might have it.
I saw no solution of the difficulty; but, to my great amazement, my
friends suddenly stepped to one side when we were within a half-dozen
paces of our antagonists, forming a line at the edge of the sidewalk, as
if we were a guard of honor stationed there to give distinction to the
passage of Belfort and his companions; furthermore, they strengthened
the idea by taking off their caps and giving the others a bow of
astonishing sweep and depth, which Graves returned in kind, Belfort
slightly, and Schwarzfelder not at all. Not a word was said, the three
stalking solemnly past us, and then disappearing down the street, while
we returned to our natural place on the sidewalk, and walked on in the
way that we had been going.
"Gentlemen," I said gravely, when we had gone about twenty yards, "I did
not think this of you."
"And why not?" replied Marcel. "Could we have done otherwise after the
delicate attentions that you have received from Colonel Schwarzfelder.
We were the larger party, and therefore it was our duty, under the
circumstances, to give way to the smaller. Is that not so, Moore?"
"Certainly," replied Moore. "We did our duty."