Part 51 (2/2)

I have not seen her since, Mr. Renault.”

Would the din of that h.e.l.lish bell never cease its torture? Would sound never again give my aching brain a moment's respite? The tumult, men's sharp voices, the coughing of the sick woman, the dull, stupid blows of sound were driving me mad! And now more noises broke out--the measured crash of volleys; cheers from the militia on the parapet; an uproar swelling all around me. I heard some one shout, ”Willett has entered the town!” and the next instant the smas.h.i.+ng roll of drums broke out in the street, echoing back from facade and palisade, and I heard the fifes and hunting-horns playing ”Soldiers' Joy!” and the long double-shuffling of infantry on the run.

The icy current of desperation flowed back into every vein. My mind cleared; I pa.s.sed a steady hand over my eyes, looked around me, and, drawing the ranger's whistle from my belt, set it to my lips.

The clear, mellow call dominated the tumult. A man in deerskin dropped from the rifle-platform, another descended the ladder, others came running from the log bastions, all flocking around me like brown deer herding to the leader's call.

”Fall in!” I scarce knew my own voice.

The eager throng of riflemen fell away into a long rank, stringing out across the jail yard.

”Shoulder arms! Right dress! Right face! Call off!”

The quick responses ran along the ranks: ”Right! left! right!

left!----”

”Right double!” I called. Then, as order followed order, the left platoon stepped forward, halted, and dressed.

”Take care to form column by platoons right, right front. To the right--face! March!”

The gates were flung wide as we pa.s.sed through, and, wheeling, swung straight into the streets of Johnstown with a solid hurrah!

A battalion of Ma.s.sachusetts infantry was pa.s.sing St. John's Church, filling William Street with the racket of their drums. White cross-belts and rifles s.h.i.+ning, the black-gaitered column plodded past, mounted officers leading. Then a field-piece, harness and chains clanking, came by, breasting the hill at a gallop, amid a tempest of cheers from my riflemen. And now the Tryon County men were pa.s.sing in dusty ranks, and more riflemen came running up, falling in behind my company.

”There's Tim Murphy!” cried Elerson joyously. ”He has your horse, Captain!”

Down the hill from Burke's Inn came Murphy on a run, leading my horse; behind him sped the Weasel and a rifleman named Sammons, and Burke himself, flouris.h.i.+ng a rifle, all greeted l.u.s.tily by the brown ranks behind me, amid shouts of laughter as Jimmy Burke, in cap and fluttering forest-dress, fell in with the others.

”Captain Renault, sorr--” I turned. Murphy touched his racc.o.o.n cap.

”Sorr, I hov f'r to repoort thot ye're sweet lady, sorr, is wid Butler at Johnson Hall.”

”Safe?” My lips scarcely moved.

”Safe so far, sorr. She rides wid their Major, Ross, an' the shtaff-officers in gold an' green.”

I sprang to the saddle, raised my rifle and shook it, A shrill, wolfish yelling burst from the Rangers.

”Forward!” And ”Forward! forward!” echoed the sergeants, as we swung into a quick step.

The rifles on the hill by the Hall were speaking faster and faster now.

A white cloud hid the Hall and the trees, thickening and spreading as a volley of musketry sent its smoke gus.h.i.+ng into the bushes. Then, in the dun-colored fog, a red flame darted out, splitting the air with a deafening crash, and the thunder-clap of the cannon-shot shook the earth under our hurrying feet.

We were close to the Hall now. Behind a hedge fence running east our militia lay, firing very coolly into the wavering mists, through which twinkled the ruddy rifle-flames of the enemy. The roar of the firing was swelling, dominated by the tremendous concussions of the field-piece. I saw officers riding like mounted phantoms through the smoke; dead men in green, dead men in scarlet, and here and there a dead Mohawk lay in the hedge. A wounded officer of Ma.s.sachusetts infantry pa.s.sed us, borne away to the village by Schoharic militia.

As we started for the hedge on a double, suddenly, through the smoke, the other side of the hedge swarmed with men. They were everywhere, cras.h.i.+ng through the thicket, climbing the fence, pouring forward with shouts and hurrahs. Then the naked form of an Indian appeared; another, another; the militia, disconcerted and surprised, struck at them with their gunstocks, wavered, turned, and ran toward us.

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