Part 15 (2/2)
”Not if their officer has an ounce of sense,” said Captain De Lancey, ”being without horses, as he is. He's scarce like to play the fool by coming down, as I did in charging up! Well, we've left some wounded to his care. Who is their commander? Ask your prisoner, Lieutenant Russell.”
I turned on my saddle and put the query, but my man vouchsafed merely a stupid, ”Hey?”
”Shake him back to his senses,” said De Lancey, stopping his horse, as I did mine, and Tom his.
But shaking did not suffice.
”This infernal darkness helps to cloud his wits,” suggested the captain. ”Flash a light before his eyes. Here, Tippet, your lantern, please.”
I continued shaking the prisoner, while the lantern was brought.
Suddenly the man gave a start, looked around into the black night, and inquired in a husky, small voice:
”Who are you? Where are we?”
”We are your captors,” said I, ”and upon the Hudson River road, bound for Kingsbridge. And now, sir, who are you?”
But the rays of the lantern, falling that instant upon his face, answered my question for me.
”Cornelius!” I cried.
”What, sir? Why--'tis Mr. Russell!”
”Ay, and here is Tom Faringfield,” said I.
”Well, bless my soul!” exclaimed the pedagogue, grasping the hand that Tom held to him out of the darkness.
”Mr. Cornelius, since that is your name,” put in De Lancey, to whom time was precious. ”Will you please tell us who commands yonder, where we got the reception our folly deserved, awhile ago?”
”Certainly, sir,” said Cornelius. ”'Tis no harm, I suppose--no violation of duty or custom?”
”Not in the least,” said I.
”Why then, sir,” says he, ”since yesterday, when we relieved the infantry there--we are dragoons, sir, though dismounted for this particular service--a new independent troop, sir--Winwood's Horse--”
”Winwood's!” cried I.
”Ay, Captain Winwood's--Mr. Philip, you know--'tis he commands our post yonder.”
”Oh, indeed!” said De Lancey, carelessly. ”A relation of mine by marriage.”
But for a time I had nothing to say, thinking how, after these years of separation, Philip and I had come so near meeting in the night, and known it not; and how, but for the turn of things, one of us might have given the other his death-blow unwittingly in the darkness.
CHAPTER IX.
_Philip's Adventures--Captain Falconer Comes to Town._
Upon the way back to our lines, we were entertained by Mr. Cornelius with an account of Philip's movements during the past three years. One piece of information interested Captain De Lancey: the recent attack upon Van Wrumb's Hessians, which it had been our purpose that night to revenge, was the work of Winwood's troop of horse. Our curiosity upon hearing of Philip as a captain of independent cavalry, who had left us as a lieutenant of New York foot, was satisfied in the course of the pedagogue's narrative. The tutor himself had received promotion upon two sides: first, to the Presbyterian ministry, his admission thereto having occurred while he was with the rebel army near Morristown, New Jersey, the last previous Winter but one; second, to the chaplaincy of Winwood's troop.
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