Part 3 (1/2)
Slowly the soldiers broke ranks, the dullest man among them touched and awed as though he had attended a new church and had consecrated himself to her service. For a moment Isaac Franks forgot his jeering comrade and his own threats; he walked to his quarters, head high in the air, eyes looking far away, as boy-like he dreamed of the days when a grateful commonwealth would ”reward his merit and advance him to the highest honors of a free country.” He walked on air, painting the future in the bright colors known only to seventeen, forgetful of the world about him, until he was recalled to earth by a mocking laugh and the question: ”Still want to fight, Jew soldier?”
Franks stiffened and turned to face his tormentor, his face hot with anger. ”Yes, I'll fight you this minute,” he answered so loudly that several soldiers pa.s.sing by overhead his words and stopped to see the fun. ”And thank you for reminding me, Durgan.”
He pulled off his coat with a deliberate calm he was far from feeling at that moment, for he knew only too well that his opponent was vastly superior to him in strength and perhaps in experience as well. But Isaac did not hesitate in spite of the goodnatured advice of big Bob MacDonald who stepped up at that moment: ”Let him alone, son--you can't whip him and it's no use to try.”
But Tim had already taken off his coat and stood leering down upon Isaac who felt that he could never retreat now; that he would always despise himself as a coward, a traitor to the heroes of his race.
Setting his teeth for the drubbing he felt certain he would receive, he struck out blindly. Then he felt a hand grip his arm so tightly that he winced with pain, and looking up, saw that General Was.h.i.+ngton stood beside him.
”Well, men?” the commander's voice was very stern. ”Have you nothing better to do than spend your time brawling like a couple of tavern roisterers? Give me a good and sufficient reason for such behaviour or I'll have you both tied up and flogged to teach you to act like gentlemen and soldiers of the American Army.”
His quiet eyes scanned the flushed, angry faces of the two lads. He turned sharply to Franks. ”I am waiting!” he said.
For a moment Isaac wavered. He had heard enough of Was.h.i.+ngton's sense of justice to realize that if the chief knew his reason for challenging Durgan he might escape with a slight reprimand, or even a word of praise for defending his race. But only for a moment. A gentleman and a soldier in the American Army, young Franks decided, did not tell tales. He shook his head.
”I am sorry, your excellency,” he answered, respectfully, ”but I cannot tell you the reason of our quarrel since it concerns only ourselves.”
Tim Durgan, who had waited for Isaac's accusation with a mocking smile about his mouth, gave an incredulous whistle. The despised ”Jew soldier” was a man after all, who would risk undeserved punishment rather than betray a comrade, no matter how much he hated him. In his sudden admiration for the boy he forgot his awe of General Was.h.i.+ngton and burst out before he was granted permission to speak.
”I'll tell you, Excellency,” he cried, warmly. ”I've been plaguing and tormenting the lad and for no fault of his own. I never saw a Jew in my whole life before I joined the army, but I'd heard tales of them; cowards and afraid of their own shadows. And I teased the boy, never knowing he'd mind, and when he did I just kept on to spite him. And when he threatened to fight me, I wanted to laugh, for you can see for yourself, Excellency, that I'm taller and broader than he and could toss him about if I'd a mind to. But he wasn't afraid and if you hadn't come up, he'd have tried to fight me all the same.” He paused for breath, smiling broadly, and held out his hand to Franks. ”It's all my fault, Your Excellency, and I'm willing to take what I ought to for it, but first let me shake hands with him and tell him such a game c.o.c.k ought to've been born an Irishman and no mistake.”
The general smiled as the two clasped hands. Then: ”I am sorry I was disorderly, Your Excellency,” apologized Franks. ”I would have tried to forget a personal insult but I could not stand by and allow my people to be slandered. But I know now that he did not understand.”
”It takes a long time for some of us to understand, my boy,” answered the general slowly, and, so thought Isaac, a little sadly, too. ”But some day, G.o.d grant it, we will all understand the words you both have heard today and America will know no distinction of race, creed or station--only the worth that makes a man.” He turned suddenly to Tim Durgan. ”You come of a fighting breed, my man,” he said warmly, ”and just now when you confessed your fault you showed true courage. I need fighters as strong as your Irish ancestors; learn to fight only for our country and forget your petty quarrels and prejudices.” He placed a kindly hand on Isaac's shoulder. ”And a boy who is as loyal a Jew as you, must be a loyal American. I hope you will always carry yourself as honorably as you did today. What is your name, my lad?”
”Isaac Franks, sir,” answered the boy, flus.h.i.+ng beneath his commander's praise.
”Isaac Franks of this city?”
”Yes, sir. I have always lived in New York and I enlisted here.”
”Then you must be the boy of whom Colonel Lescher spoke to me. He said that you were so eager to serve that you even bought your own uniform and field equipment. I expect to hear from you again.” He was about to pa.s.s on, then paused to add kindly: ”And since this is a holiday afternoon, why not spend it abroad instead of wrangling here. Now,”
with a slight smile, ”my Hebrew David and my Irish Jonathan, be off with you; and hereafter keep your blows for the British,” he added, half jestingly, as he walked off, leaving the two lads staring somewhat sheepishly at each other as they strolled a little apart from the others.
Tim was the first to speak. ”It was great of you not to tell when he asked you,” he said warmly. ”And if I can ever make up to you for what I said about Jews--” which proves that Tim Durgan never made a foe or a friend by halves.
”We'll forget all about that,” answered Franks lightly. ”But we've wasted a good part of the afternoon already. Let's take a long walk and drink to our friends.h.i.+p in some good brown ale. I know a tavern near Bowling Green where there's always jolly company and a full measure for a men in uniform.”
Chatting idly together, the two began their walk through the camp, pa.s.sing rapidly down the crowded streets. There was a great stir in the city, for the storm clouds of hate against the British ruler which had been gathering for so many months had suddenly burst at the news of the signing of the Declaration at Philadelphia, and the air was heavy with protests of loyalty to the new government, and threats against King George. So when Tim and Isaac reached Bowling Green it was an excited crowd that they found there, gathered about the leaden statue of King George III; men and half-grown boys, with here and there a soldier enjoying his half-holiday.
”One would think the British were already here,” Tim growled goodnaturedly. ”If these merchants would stop cackling together like the hens in my father's poultry yard at home, and shoulder a gun, we'd drive Master George's tin soldiers and the Hessians back across the water so quick they'd hardly know they'd been here at all.”
From the confused murmur of many voices came one rumbling cry which the boys caught and smiled to hear: ”Down with King George! We are free men. Down with King George!”
A thin little man in a black coat elbowed his way to the base of the statue from which vantage point he tried to address the crowd.
”Friends,” he quavered, as the uproar died, the idle mob ever ready for some new amus.e.m.e.nt, ”friends, don't be too rash. Look before you leap. We are only a handful of untrained farmers and merchants. The armies of King George----”
But before he could speak further, the crowd suddenly broke lose with: ”Another cursed Tory! He is in the King's hire!--Drag him down!--Hang him to a tree to teach other Tories and traitors to hold their tongues!”
The suggestion was like a fire brand to dry timber. Before the two soldiers on the outskirts of the crowd could fully realized what had happened, a stout apprentice lad in a leather ap.r.o.n had procured a rope which another brawny fellow flung around the Tory's neck. He tried to plead for mercy but his voice was silenced by the howling of the mob, so desperate in its rage against the king that they sought blind vengeance on their victim for daring to speak in his behalf.