Part 24 (2/2)

The effect of this, by the dim and peculiar light reflected from the snow across which they moved, was picturesque in the extreme, nor was the interest diminished by the utter silence that had pervaded every part of the little army, the measured tramp of whose march, mingled with the hollow and unavoidable rumbling of the light guns, being the only sounds to be heard amid that ma.s.s of living matter. The Indians, with the exception of a party of scouts, had been the last to quit their rude encampment, and as they now, in their eagerness to get to the front, glided stealthily by in the deep snows on either side of the more beaten track by which the troops advanced, and so utterly without sound in their foot-fall, that they might rather have been compared to spirits of the wilds, than to human beings.

The regiment having been told off into divisions, it so happened that Raymond and Henry Grantham, although belonging to different companies, now found themselves near each other. The latter had been most anxious to approach his really good hearted companion, with a view to soothe his wounded feelings, and to convey, in the fullest and most convincing terms, the utter disclaimer of his inconsiderate brother officers, to reflect seriously on his conduct in the recent retreat--or, indeed, to intend their observations for any thing beyond a mere pleasantry. As, however, the strictest order had been commanded to be observed in the march, and Raymond and he happened to be at opposite extremities of the division, this had been for some time impracticable. A temporary halt having occurred, just as the head of the column came, within sight of the enemy's fires, Grantham quitted his station on the flank, and hastened to the head of his division, where he found Raymond with his arms folded across his chest, and apparently absorbed in deep thought.

He tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and inquired in a tone of much kindness the subject of his musing.

Touched by the manner in which he was addressed, Raymond dropped his arms, and grasping the hand of the youth, observed in his usual voice; ”Ah, is it you Henry--Egad, my dear boy, I was just thinking of you--and how very kind you have always been; never quizzing me as those thoughtless fellows have done--and certainly never insinuating any thing against my courage--that was too bad Henry, too bad, I could have forgiven anything but that.”

”Nay, nay, Raymond,” answered his companion, soothingly; ”believe me, neither Molineux, nor Middlemore, nor St.

Clair, meant anything beyond a jest. I can a.s.sure you they did not, for when you quitted us they asked me to go in search of you, but the a.s.sembly then commencing to beat, I was compelled to hasten to my company, nor have I had an opportunity of seeing you until now.”

”Very well, Henry, I forgive them, for it is not in my nature to keep anger long; but tell them that they should not wantonly wound the feelings of an unoffending comrade.

As I told them, they may regret their unkindness to me before another sun has set. If so, I wish them no other punishment.”

”What mean you, my dear Raymond?”

”Egad! I scarcely know myself, but something tells me very forcibly my hour is come.”

”Nonsense, this is but the effect of the depression, produced by fatigue and over excitement, added to the recent annoyance of your feelings.”

”Whatever it proceed from, I had made up my mind to it before we set out. Henry, my kind good Henry, I have neither friend nor relative on earth--no one to inherit the little property I possess. In the event of my falling, you will find the key of my desk in the breast pocket of my coat. A paper in that desk appoints you my executor.

Will you accept the trust?”

”Most sacredly, Raymond, will I fulfil every instruction it contains; should I myself survive; but I cannot, will not, bring myself to antic.i.p.ate your fall.”

”Move on, move on,” pa.s.sed quickly in a whisper from front to rear of the column.”

”G.o.d bless you, Henry” exclaimed Raymond, again pressing the hand of the youth--”remember the key.”

”We shall talk of that to night,” was the light reply.

”Meanwhile, dear Raymond, G.o.d bless you,” and again Grantham fell back to his place in the rear of the division.

Five minutes later, and the troops were silently drawn up in front of the enemy. A long line of fires marked the extent of the encampment, from which, even then, the ”all's well” of the sentinels could be occasionally heard.

Except these, all profoundly slept, nor was there anything to indicate they had the slightest suspicion of an enemy being within twenty miles of them--not a picket had been thrown out, not an outpost established. It was evident the Americans were yet young in the art of self defence.

”What glorious bayonet work we shall have presently,”

whispered Villiers to Cranstoun, as they were brought together by their stations at the adjacent extremities of their respective division. ”Only mark how the fellows sleep.”

”The deevil a beet,” responded Cranstoun, ”a joost noo heerd Coolonel St Julian propoose and even enseest upoon it. But the Geeneral seems to theenk that coold steel and a coold froosty morning do not a.s.seemelate togeether.”

”What! does he not mean to attack them with the bayonet, when two minutes would suffice to bring us into the very heart of the encampment, and that before they could well have time to arm themselves?”

”Hoot mon” coolly pursued the Grenadier, with something very like satire in his expression. ”Would ye ha' the Geeneral so uncheevalrous as to poonce upoon a set of poor unarmed and unprepared creeturs. Depeend upon it he would na sleep coomfortably on his peelow, after having put coold steel into the geezzard of each of yon sleeping loons.”

”The devil take his consideration,” muttered Villiers; ”but you are right, for see, there go the guns to the front--hark there is a shot; the sentinels have discovered us at last; and now the sluggards are starting from before their fires, and hastening to s.n.a.t.c.h their arms.

”True enoof, Veelliers, and pleenty o' brooken heeds they will gi' us soon, in retoorn for sparing their goots.

There oopen too those stooped leetle three poonders. Tha might joost as weel be used for bra.s.s warming pons, to tak the cheel off the damp beeds some of us will be pressing preesently.”

Whist, whist, whist, flew three b.a.l.l.s successively between their heads. ”Ha, here they begin to talk to us in earnest, and now to our duty.”

<script>