I doubted not that the news of the French alliance would incite Sir
William Howe to activity, for any fool could see that, with his splendid
army, splendidly equipped, he had allowed his chances to go to ruin.
There was increasing talk, and of a very definite nature too, about his
removal from the chief command. So far as the subalterns knew, his
successor might have been appointed already, and this would be an
additional inducement to Sir William to attempt some sudden blow which
would shed glory over the close of his career in America, and leave
about him the odor of success and not of failure.
My surmise was correct in all particulars, for both Marcel and I were
ordered to report for immediate duty, and though this cut off all chance
of escape for that day, we had no choice but to obey. We found an
unusually large detachment gathered under the command of a general
officer. Belfort, Barton, Moore, and others whom we knew were there;
but, inquire as we would, we could not ascertain the nature of the
service for which we were designed. In truth, no one seemed to know
except the general himself, and he was in no communicative mood. But
there was a great overhauling of arms and a very careful examination of
the ammunition supply. So I foresaw that the expedition was to be of
much importance.
"Perhaps it will be another such as the attempt to capture our
brother-in-arms Mr. Wildfoot," said Marcel.
"If we come out of this as well as we did out of that," I replied, "we
will have a right to think that Fortune has us in her especial keeping."
"Dame Fortune is kindest to those who woo her with assiduity," said
Marcel, "and she cannot complain of us on that point."
But I knew how fickle the lady is, even towards those who woo her
without ceasing, and I was uneasy.
The detachment had gathered in the suburbs, and we were subjected to a
long period of waiting there. I also learned that no one was to be
allowed to pass from the city during the day, and from this circumstance
I inferred that Sir William was building great hopes upon the matter
which he had in hand, and which he had placed under the direction of one
of his ablest generals. I would have given much to know what it was, but
I was as ignorant as the drummer-boy who stood near me. It was not until
dusk that we marched, and then we started forth, a fine body, four
thousand strong,--a thousand horse and three thousand foot.
"If there is a time for it to-night," I said to Marcel, when the
opportunity came for us to speak together in secrecy, "I shall leave
these people with whom we have no business, and return to those to whom
we belong."
"And I," said Marcel, with one of his provoking grins, "shall watch over
you with paternal care, come what may."
The night was half day. A full silver moon turned the earth--forests,
fields, and houses--into that peculiar shimmering gray color which makes
one feel as if one were dwelling in a ghost-world that may dissolve into
mist at any moment. Our long column was colored the same ghostly gray by
the moon. There were no sounds, save the steady tramp of the men and the
horses, and the occasional clank of the bayonets together.
I did not like this preternatural silence, this evidence of supreme
caution. It warned me of danger to my countrymen, and again I wished in
my soul that I knew what business we were about. But there was naught to
do save to keep my mouth shut and my eyes open.
We followed one of the main roads out of Philadelphia for some distance,
and then turned into a narrower path, along which the detachment had
much difficulty in preserving its formation. This part of the country
was strange to me, and I did not believe that we were proceeding in the
direction of the American encampment. Still, it was obvious that a heavy
blow against the Americans was intended.
As the hours passed, clouds came before the moon, and the light waned.
The long line of men ahead of me sank into the night so gradually that I
could not tell where life ended and darkness began, and still there was
no sound but the regular tread of man and beast and the clanking of
arms. My sense of foreboding increased. How heartily I wished that I had
never come into Philadelphia! I silently cursed Marcel for leading me
into the adventure. Then I cursed myself for attempting to throw all the
blame on Marcel.
The night was advancing, when we came to a long, narrow valley, thickly
wooded at one end. We halted there, and the general selected about three
hundred men and posted them in the woods at the head of the valley. I
was among the number, but I observed with regret that Marcel was not. A
colonel was placed in command. Then the main army followed a curving
road up the hill-side and went out of sight over the heights. I watched
them for some time before they disappeared, horse and foot, steadily
tramping on, blended into a long, continuous, swaying mass by the gray
moonlight; sometimes a moonbeam would tip the end of a bayonet with
silver and gleam for a moment like a falling star. At last the column
wound over the slope and left the night to us.
About one-third of our little force were cavalrymen; but, under the
instructions of our colonel, we dismounted and gave our horses into the
care of a few troopers; then all of us moved into the thick woods at the
head of the pass, and sat down there, with orders to keep as quiet as
possible.
I soon saw that the rising ground and the woods which crowned it merely
formed a break between the valley which we had entered at first and
another valley beyond it. The latter we were now facing. I had not been
a soldier for two years and more for nothing, and I guessed readily that
we were to keep this pass clear, while the main force was to perform the
more important operation, which I now doubted not was to be the
entrapping of some large body of Americans. Perhaps in this number was
to be included the general-in-chief himself, the heart and soul of our
cause. I shuddered at the thought, and again cursed the reckless spirit
that had placed me in such a position.
At first we had the second valley in view; but our colonel, fearing that
we might expose ourselves, drew us farther back into the woods, and then
we could see nothing but the trees and the dim forms of each other.
I looked up at the moon, and hoped to see the clouds gathering more
thickly before her face. I had confirmed my resolution. If the chance
came to me, I would steal away from the English and enter the valley
beyond. I doubted not that I would find my own people there. I would
warn them of the danger, and remain with them in the future, unless fate
should decree that I become a prisoner.
But Dame Fortune was in no such willing humor. The clouds did not gather
in quantities, and, besides, the English were numerous around me.
Belfort himself sat on the grass only a few feet from me, and, with more
friendliness than he had shown hitherto, undertook to talk to me in
whispers.
"Do you know what we are going to do to-night, Melville?" he asked.
"It seems," I said, "that we are to sit here in the woods until morning,
and then to be too hoarse with cold to talk."
Then I added, having the after-thought that I might secure some
information from him,--
"I suppose we are after important game to-night. The size of our force
and the care and secrecy of our movements indicate it, do they not?"
"There is no doubt of it," he replied, "and I hope we shall secure a
royal revenge upon the rebels for that Wildfoot affair."
Our conversation was interrupted here by an order from the colonel for
me to move farther towards the front, from which point I was to report
to him at once anything unusual that I might see or hear. The men near
me were common soldiers. They squatted against the trees with their
muskets between their knees, and waited in what seemed to me to be a
fair degree of content.
An hour, a very long hour, of such waiting passed, and the colonel
approached me, asking if all was quiet. I supplemented my affirmative
reply with some apparently innocent questions which I thought would draw
from him the nature of his expectations. But he said nothing that
satisfied me. As he was about to turn away, I thought I heard a movement
in the woods in front of us. It was faint, but it resembled a footfall.
"Colonel," I said, in a hurried whisper, "there is some movement out
there."
At the same moment one of the soldiers sprang to his feet and
exclaimed,--
"There is somebody coming down on us!"
"Be quiet, men," said the colonel. "Whoever it is, he stops here."
Scarce had he spoken the words when we heard the rush of many feet. The
woods leaped into flame; the bullets whistled like hailstones around our
ears. By the flash I saw the head of one of the soldiers who was still
sitting down fall over against a tree, and a red streak appear upon his
forehead. He uttered no cry, and I knew that he was dead.
For a few moments I stood quite still, as cold and stiff as if I had
turned to ice. There is nothing, as I have said before, that chills the
heart and stops its flow like a sudden surprise. That is why veterans
when fired upon in the dark will turn and run sometimes as if pursued by
ghosts.