The Minute Boys of York Town - Part 28
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Part 28

"You shall live to repent those words, and die regretting them," he snarled.

"Why don't you cause me now, single-handed, to regret them?" Morgan asked threateningly, rising to his feet as he spoke as if expecting an attack, and Abel Hunt literally shrieked in his anger:

"Because there is no need why I should spend my strength on one who lays so near the gallows as do you. I count on turning you over to those officers of the king who will deal out such justice as you have earned, instead of spending my time flogging a traitor who deserves more the halter."

Now it was, when it seemed to me as if Master Morgan was trying to provoke a rough-and-tumble fight, that I began, thick-head though I was, to have an inkling that some plan, which had been concerted without the aid of words, was on foot, for as soon as Abel gave way to anger old 'Rasmus moved his chair yet further forward until it stood as a barricade in front of the door, while Pierre held in his hands by one leg a stool, handling it as if it were a weapon.

"If you have aught against me, and are not a coward, you will try it out now and here, instead of hiding yourself behind the skirts of the king's soldiers!" the Jerseyman cried as if he no longer held control over his temper, and at the same time he advanced a step toward Hunt as if to grapple with him.

The cowardly fellow fell back before Morgan; but dared not take his eyes from the Jerseyman because of fearing that a blow might be delivered.

Back, back, slowly, pace by pace he retreated, Morgan advancing with clenched fist, and then against Uncle 'Rasmus's chair the fellow came at full force, half toppling over.

Then it was that I understood all the scheme; understood why Uncle 'Rasmus had moved where he did, and why the Jerseyman strove to provoke Hunt to anger, for Pierre raised the stool which he had been swinging to and fro in his hands, and brought it down upon the scoundrel's head with such force that he was nigh knocked to the floor.

If little Frenchie had been able to get in a direct blow, I have no doubt it would have settled matters on the instant, for I could see even in the gloom that the lad was putting all his strength to the effort, and counted on taking human life if by so doing he could the better relieve us from the difficulty into which we had fallen.

As it was, unfortunately, Pierre's arm glanced across the back of Uncle 'Rasmus's chair, and the blow was robbed of half its force. It was sufficient, however, to partially daze Abel Hunt, and before he could recover either his senses or his footing Morgan was upon him like a wild-cat, clutching both hands around the fellow's throat to prevent any outcry, while the two came down upon the puncheon planks with a thud that shook the building.

On the instant, and without giving any heed to the struggling men, Uncle 'Rasmus sprang with the agility of a boy to the corner where Horry Sims stood as if ready to leap forward to Abel Hunt's aid, and there the old negro, with his cane upraised, held the Tory lad where he neither dared lift a hand or open his mouth.

At the same instant little Frenchie sprang toward the door, replacing and mending so far as possible the barriers which had been torn away, and otherwise doing what he might to put it in such shape that it would resist, at least for a short time, the efforts of any who might try to enter.

Meanwhile Saul and I stood as if dazed, looking down upon the floor where Master Morgan and Abel Hunt were struggling most desperately, rolling here and there with such swiftness of movement that had we been armed with the best of weapons it would have been impossible for us to have struck a blow in defence of the Jerseyman, save at great risk of hitting him instead of our enemy.

I did succeed, after mayhap a full minute had pa.s.sed, in gathering my wits sufficiently to seize upon a stick of firewood which was lying at one side of the fireplace, and then I went toward the combatants, watching the opportunity to strike a blow in Master Morgan's defence. So great was the rage within my heart, that I sincerely hoped I might bring the oaken stick down upon Abel Hunt's head with such force as to kill him on the instant.

At almost the precise moment when the Jerseyman leaped upon Abel Hunt, the British cannon were discharged, and from then on until long after the struggle had come to an end, was the firing kept up on both sides with such violence and volume of sound that however much of a disturbance we might have made in the cabin, or however near the Britishers had approached to the building, no token of our movements could have been heard. Otherwise certain it is to me that we would have brought the enemy down upon us, for the tumult inside old Mary's cabin was indeed great.

How long the struggle between the two men continued I had no means of knowing. My blood was, as one would say, so boiling in my veins that I saw nothing but red before me, and was conscious of but the one desire to kill the scoundrel who without reason had sought to hunt us down.

Therefore it was I could not have told whether I sprang here and there in the effort to strike a deadly blow, five minutes or half an hour, and something very like disappointment came over me when Master Morgan concluded the fight without aid from any of us.

His grip upon Abel Hunt's throat was so firm that the fellow's eyes were literally starting from their sockets when he had been choked into insensibility, and his tongue hung out of his mouth seemingly a finger's length.

The Jerseyman although victor, had not come out of the fight unharmed.

He was bleeding from a cut on the face. His shirt had been torn from his body until he was near naked, and so severe had been his exertions that when Hunt finally sank back upon the puncheons like one dead Master Morgan could only with difficulty move to his knees, panting, and with the perspiration running down his face in tiny streams.

How long Saul and I stood gaping open-mouthed at the apparently dead man and nearly exhausted spy I dare not venture to say. Neither of us thought we had any part to play now that the battle was at an end; but not so with Pierre Laurens. He, dear lad, ever on watch and ever ready to take advantage of the first opportunity, understood that Abel Hunt had only been choked into unconsciousness, and that it was necessary we set about so fettering him that the battle could not be continued when his senses returned.

Pierre seized upon the blanket which had fallen from Uncle 'Rasmus's knees when he set about making his way toward the door to offer his body as a living barricade, and tore it into strips until he had an apology for a rope sufficient to have tied two men, and began dextrously binding Hunt's feet and arms.

His action caused me to bestir myself, and I began to fashion a gag for the fellow's mouth, knowing full well that we could not frighten him into silence as we had frightened Horry Sims.

The Jerseyman recovered from his exertions before little Frenchie and I had finished our task, and then he took from my hand the stout billet of wood which I was wrapping with strips torn from the blanket, as he said:

"I am not minded to have the blood of this fellow on my head, yet perhaps it would be better for all concerned if we shut off his wind for so long a time that it could never be recovered again, for he is like to be a millstone around your neck, lad, and may yet succeed in working his purpose. Killing one in cold blood, even though it be for the Cause, is more than I am willing to undertake."

"But he must be gagged," I cried, thinking that Master Morgan was growing soft-hearted and might waste too much time in mourning over his victim.

"Let not your heart be troubled as to that, lad," the Jerseyman said grimly. "To thrust this gag into the fellow's mouth just now would be indeed the same as cutting his throat. We must wait until he is well nigh conscious of his surroundings, and then bind it in place so securely that he cannot work loose from it."

Then it was, while Morgan knelt by Abel Hunt's side awaiting the proper moment to deprive him of all power of speech, that I realized what we had done. I speedily understood that this victory of ours was the same as a disaster, for how could we, unable to procure food or water save at great risk, care for two prisoners, and at the same time the thought came into my mind like a red light of warning, that the companionship of Abel Hunt would embolden Horry Sims, and mayhap make of him something more than the coward he had thus far shown himself.

Even though we should be able to feed these prisoners, yet must we hold them here in the midst of the British camp where the least accident would bring the soldiers in upon us, and it did not at that moment seem to me possible we could keep the two fellows in the loft any length of time without in some way betraying the secret.

"What about the Tory lad?" Master Morgan asked while he yet awaited the proper time for thrusting the gag into Hunt's mouth.

"We are forced to hold him, as a matter of course. The question in my mind as you spoke was how we might care for two prisoners, while we ourselves are in much the same situation, save than we are at liberty to move about inside this cabin?"

"There are many things, lad, which seem impossible while they are yet in the future; but when the moment for action comes the way is made plain, and we succeed where failure appeared certain."

Not understanding fully the meaning of what the Jerseyman said, I did not extract much of comfort from his words; but stood looking down upon Abel Hunt who was now beginning to breathe heavily like one who snores in his sleep, until Pierre aroused me by saying:

"We shall be forced to put both prisoners into the loft, as a matter of course, and may as well get Horry Sims there now, for stowing Abel Hunt away will be considerable of a task."

Despite the roar of great guns from the outside the Tory lad heard what little Frenchie said, and straightway set about begging us not to put a gag in his mouth, vowing by this and by that which he held most sacred, that he would make no outcry.

At first it seemed to me absolutely necessary for our own safety that we deprive him of the power to raise an alarm; but Pierre, who had already thought over all the possibilities of the situation, said:

"We will put Abel Hunt one side of the scuttle, and Horry Sims the other. Whoever is on guard must sit by the side of the Tory lad, and if so be he gives any token of crying out, then shall the gag go in and remain there."

"Do you count on making the same bargain with Abel Hunt?" I asked scornfully, for my blood was yet so heated that I could have no feeling of tenderness or of mercy toward those two who had forced us to encounter such peril.

"He must take his dose," little Frenchie said from between his clenched teeth, and I was really pleased, even while standing there facing death, to see that the French lad's anger could be aroused.

Without loss of time we drove Horry Sims up the ladder, and when he was in the loft Pierre and I fettered him securely with strips of blanket, threatening him with the gag if he moved a hand's breadth in either direction.

Then we went to the floor below, ready to do our share in hoisting into his attic-prison the scoundrel who would have denounced us as spies.

The Jerseyman had already put the gag in Hunt's mouth, and when we came down he was telling the fellow what he might expect if any resistance was offered.

"Here is a pistol with mayhap a dozen charges of powder and ball,"

Master Morgan said as he drew from his ragged trousers a weapon and a small package which I knew contained ammunition. "Whichever of you lads stands guard over the prisoner, and close watch must be kept night and day if you would preserve your lives, will have by him every moment this pistol ready loaded and primed. At the first sign of an attempt to escape, or to give an alarm, which you see Abel Hunt display, put the weapon to his head and blow his brains out regardless of everything, even though there might be a squad of soldiers standing beneath the scuttle, for his life must be as of no value if you would hope to come out from this British nest with whole skins."

Then looking at Hunt, who perforce lay there motionless and silent, the Jerseyman repeated to him very much the same as he had said to us, a.s.suring the fellow over and over again that if the Britishers should come to his aid, or if it was discovered either through his exertions or by accident that he lay there a prisoner, we lads were bound to kill him because of what he could tell to our disadvantage.

I have seen a wild-cat held helpless in a trap, and there was much of his look about Abel Hunt's face as he glared at Pierre and me, unable to stir even a finger, while Master Morgan was threatening.

It seemed as though the fellow must have realized that we would have no compunction about taking his life in cold blood if so be he stood between us and liberty, yet was he like the wild-cat, ready and willing to struggle to the very last even though the odds were so heavy against him, and when we strove to carry him into the loft he did his best to prevent it, although both hands and feet were bound securely.

It was not until we had made a rope of the second blanket, thus depriving ourselves of even the apology for a bed, and tied it around his body, hoisting him as we would a bale of cotton, that it was possible to get the fellow through the scuttle.

With two of us pulling from above and the others shoving him up from below, we finally succeeded in landing him on the puncheon planks, rolling the fellow over until he was at such a distance from the opening in the floor that he could not well spy upon those who were below.

All the while, fortunately for us, the cannonading continued, therefore we were at liberty to work as we would regardless of making a noise, and well it was, for had we stood in danger from eavesdroppers, then must all of us have been in the guard-house within five minutes after the fight between Master Morgan and Abel Hunt began.

It was with a sense of greatest relief that I stood near the edge of the scuttle wiping the perspiration from my face when finally we had got the scoundrelly cur where we wanted him, and then the satisfaction which should have been mine because of having thus far succeeded in holding our own, was entirely wiped out by thoughts of the future. Strive as I might, I could not prevent my mind from going ahead of time and picturing what must finally be our fate.