Part 54 (1/2)

”I like not the warmth of what you call a scattering fire,” exclaimed the captain, moving about with uneasiness; ”it is more like the roll of a drum than skirmishers' shooting.”

”No, no; I said not skrimmagers,” returned the other, raising himself upon a knee, and ceasing to eat; ”so long as they stand, they are too good for the best troops in the royal army. Each man does his work as if fighting by the job; and then, they think while they fight, and don't send bullets to the clouds, that were meant to kill men on earth.”

”You talk and look, sir, as if you wished them success,” said Henry, sternly.

”I wish success to the good cause only, Captain Wharton. I thought you knew me too well, to be uncertain which party I favored.”

”Oh! you are reputed loyal, Mr. Birch. But the volleys have ceased!”

Both now listened intently for a little while, during which the irregular reports became less brisk, and suddenly heavy and repeated volleys followed.

”They've been at the bayonet,” said the peddler; ”the rig'lars have tried the bayonet, and the rebels are driven.”

”Aye, Mr. Birch, the bayonet is the thing for the British soldier, after all. They delight in the bayonet!”

”Well, to my notion,” said the peddler, ”there's but little delight to be taken in any such fearful weapon. I dare say the militia are of my mind, for half of them don't carry the ugly things. Lord! Lord! captain, I wish you'd go with me once into the rebel camp, and hear what lies the men will tell about Bunker Hill and Burg'yne; you'd think they loved the bayonet as much as they do their dinners.”

There was a chuckle, and an air of affected innocency about his companion, that rather annoyed Henry, and he did not deign to reply.

The firing now became desultory, occasionally intermingled with heavy volleys. Both of the fugitives were standing, listening with much anxiety, when a man, armed with a musket, was seen stealing towards them, under the shelter of the cedar bushes, that partially covered the hill. Henry first observed this suspicious-looking stranger, and instantly pointed him out to his companion. Birch started, and certainly made an indication of sudden flight; but recollecting himself, he stood, in sullen silence, until the stranger was within a few yards of them.

”'Tis friends,” said the fellow, clubbing his gun, but apparently afraid to venture nearer.

”You had better retire,” said Birch; ”here are rig'lars at hand. We are not near Dunwoodie's horse now, and you will not find me an easy prize to-day.”

”d.a.m.n Major Dunwoodie and his horse!” cried the leader of the Skinners (for it was he); ”G.o.d bless King George! and a speedy end to the rebellion, say I. If you would show me the safe way in to the refugees, Mr. Birch, I'll pay you well, and ever after stand your friend, in the bargain.”

”The road is as open to you as to me,” said Birch, turning from him in ill-concealed disgust. ”If you want to find the refugees, you know well where they lay.”

”Aye, but I'm a little doubtful of going in upon them by myself; now, you are well known to them all, and it will be no detriment to you just to let me go in with you.”

Henry here interfered, and after holding a short dialogue with the fellow, he entered into a compact with him, that, on condition of surrendering his arms, he might join the party. The man complied instantly, and Birch received his gun with eagerness; nor did he lay it upon his shoulder to renew their march, before he had carefully examined the priming, and ascertained, to his satisfaction, that it contained a good, dry, ball cartridge.

As soon as this engagement was completed, they commenced their journey anew. By following the bank of the river, Birch led the way free from observation, until they reached the point opposite to the frigate, when, by making a signal, a boat was induced to approach. Some time was spent, and much precaution used, before the seamen would trust themselves ash.o.r.e; but Henry having finally succeeded in making the officer who commanded the party credit his a.s.sertions, he was able to rejoin his companions in arms in safety. Before taking leave of Birch, the captain handed him his purse, which was tolerably well supplied for the times; the peddler received it, and, watching an opportunity, he conveyed it, unnoticed by the Skinner, to a part of his dress that was ingeniously contrived to hold such treasures.

The boat pulled from the sh.o.r.e, and Birch turned on his heel, drawing his breath, like one relieved, and shot up the hills with the strides for which he was famous. The Skinner followed, and each party pursued the common course, casting frequent and suspicious glances at the other, and both maintaining a most impenetrable silence.

Wagons were moving along the river road, and occasional parties of horse were seen escorting the fruits of the inroad towards the city. As the peddler had views of his own, he rather avoided falling in with any of these patrols, than sought their protection. But, after traveling a few miles on the immediate banks of the river, during which, notwithstanding the repeated efforts of the Skinner to establish something like sociability, he maintained a most determined silence, keeping a firm hold of the gun, and always maintaining a jealous watchfulness of his a.s.sociate, the peddler suddenly struck into the highway, with an intention of crossing the hills towards Harlem. At the moment he gained the path, a body of horse came over a little eminence, and was upon him before he perceived them. It was too late to retreat, and after taking a view of the materials that composed this party, Birch rejoiced in the rencounter, as a probable means of relieving him from his unwelcome companion. There were some eighteen or twenty men, mounted and equipped as dragoons, though neither their appearance nor manners denoted much discipline. At their head rode a heavy, middle-aged man, whose features expressed as much of animal courage, and as little of reason, as could be desired for such an occupation. He wore the dress of an officer, but there was none of that neatness in his attire, nor grace in his movements, that was usually found about the gentlemen who bore the royal commission. His limbs were firm, and not pliable, and he sat his horse with strength and confidence, but his bridle hand would have been ridiculed by the meanest rider amongst the Virginians. As he expected, this leader instantly hailed the peddler, in a voice by no means more conciliating than his appearance.

”Hey! my gentlemen, which way so fast?” he cried, ”Has Was.h.i.+ngton sent you down as spies?”

”I am an innocent peddler,” returned Harvey meekly, ”and am going below, to lay in a fresh stock of goods.”

”And how do you expect to get below, my innocent peddler? Do you think we hold the forts at King's Bridge to cover such peddling rascals as you, in your goings in and comings out?”

”I believe I hold a pa.s.s that will carry me through,” said the peddler, handing him a paper, with an air of indifference.

The officer, for such he was, read it, and cast a look of surprise and curiosity at Harvey, when he had done.

Then turning to one or two of his men, who had officiously stopped the way, he cried,-