CHAPTER XXIII
AT THE FORK IN THE ROAD
"You 're to go with us," said the lieutenant to Robert. "Will you come along as you ought to, or shall I tie your hands?"
"You need n't tie my hands," replied Robert. "There are enough of you to look after me and I'm not armed, for they have n't left me anything to fight with except these," and as he spoke he held his hands up before him.
"You look as if you might be able to make good use of them if occasion required," replied the officer good-naturedly. "We 'll chance that, though. We must go on, for we can't do anything more here."
For a moment he paused and looked about him, and Robert almost unconsciously followed his example. The tavern had fallen, though from its ruins the flames were still rising, and a cloud of smoke was borne away by the light wind that was blowing. The rude little barn was a mass of blazing fire, and it was evident that nothing could be done to save it. Not far from where he was standing Robert perceived Jacob Gunning, who apparently had recovered somewhat from his brutal treatment by the gang of marauders, but there was nothing in his bearing to indicate that he was anything more than a disinterested spectator of the scene before him. His attitude was a source of some surprise to Robert, for he knew that if he himself had been the one to suffer such a loss ard endure such treatment as the landlord had been compelled to undergo at the hands of the ruffians, he would not meekly submit as Jacob was doing. His meditations were sharply interrupted by the word of the lieutenant, who said to Claudius Brown, "I want you to go with us."
"I have n't said I would n't," responded the man sulkily.
"I want all your men to go, too."
They 'll go all right."
"We 'll leave this fellow here," continued the officer, pointing at the disconsolate figure of Jacob Gunning. "He does n't look as if he'd do any damage anyway; and then, too, I don't want to have too many prisoners—just yet," he added, with a laugh, "One is enough."
Assured now that he was to be taken with the redcoats, Robert attempted to move nearer Jacob. He was eager to speak to him of his horse, which he had left in the woods in the rear of the barn, but the lieutenant, perceiving his action, said hastily,—
"No, I cannot permit that."
Robert stopped obediently, convinced that he would only increase the suspicions of his captors if he persisted, and, besides, he was confident that if Jacob was left undisturbed he would look to the safety of Nero. Accordingly he turned and quickly took his place in the midst of the band that now prepared to depart, and at the word of the officer the men started on their march.
Robert found himself in the centre, with a double line of men in advance of him and the remainder in his rear, where Claudius Brown and his followers took their places. Not a word was spoken now; the lieutenant, who was in front of the first line, was moving swiftly, and the men were compelled to exert themselves to maintain the rapid pace at which he was advancing.
The sombre shadows of the great trees were almost ghostlike as the force proceeded over the rough way that led through the woods. The very silence was of itself impressive, and in spite of the feeling of depression that now possessed him, Robert Dorlon soon found himself looking eagerly forward to the time when the other division should be met at the fork in the road. Of the purpose and destination of the band he had no question, for it had been said by the leader himself in his conversation with Claudius Brown that they were bound for Esopus, and Robert was convinced that there could be but one object in such an advance. At Esopus the few prisoners whom the Americans had secured were held; and doubtless the coming of the lieutenant with his redcoats had something to do with a project for their release by their friends. There flashed into his mind the recollection of the letter which he himself had taken from the man whom he had discovered in the bushes in the rear of Hannah Nott's house, and he was striving to think out the possible connection between that fact and the present advance of the band, in the midst of which he was marching. Days had elapsed since his discovery, and Jacob Gunning had sent his own daughter with the letter to parties in whose hands the information would not be permitted to be useless.
Still the men with him swung forward on their march, moving steadily, swiftly, silently, until they almost seemed to be like one body advancing in the night. An hour had elapsed since their departure from Jacob's ruined tavern, when at a low word from the lieutenant the entire band halted. There was a brief whispered conversation between the officer and Claudius Brown, and then the latter glided away and speedily disappeared.
The band meanwhile remained motionless in the road, but the men all apparently understood that Claudius Brown had been sent ahead to ascertain if possible whether or not their friends were waiting for their arrival. It was not difficult for Robert to conclude that they must be near the fork in the road where the expected meeting was to occur, and he was well-nigh as deeply interested as his companions. What the union of the two forces might mean he clearly understood, and he found himself waiting impatiently for the return of the cowboy.
Not many minutes had elapsed when he perceived Claudius Brown coming swiftly back along the road, and the lieutenant hastily advanced to meet him. A low conversation followed, only occasional bits of which could be heard by Robert, although he listened intently.
"Here?" he heard the lieutenant inquire in apparent surprise.
"No. There," replied Claudius Brown, but Robert could not hear any more.
The conversation was speedily ended and the officer turned back to his men. The word to advance was given, and the march was at once resumed. This time, however, the band proceeded more slowly, and soon Robert could see that they had withdrawn from the sheltering forest and were in an open space. Before him the fork in the road was to be clearly seen, and he looked eagerly for the presence of the men who were to join them. Not one, however, could he see.
On the side of the other road, near where it joined the one over which the band was marching, was a long dark stretch of forest whose borders came close up to the road itself, but of men near by nothing was to be seen. The officer, however, apparently was confident; and as soon as he had led the way to the fork, he turned sharply into the other road and advanced toward the woods, his men still following him obediently. Doubtless the man was about to lead his band into the adjacent woods and there await the coming of his allies, and Robert concluded that the other expected forces had not as yet arrived.
Almost mechanically he was moving with the men now, but the ever-present purpose to break away from them and strive to escape received a fresh impetus as he thought of the darkness among the great trees in the place to which they evidently were going.
Suddenly the peaceful scene was dispelled, and from the road behind them, from the woods, as well as from the road before them, arose shouts and shots, and almost as if they had sprung from the ground itself men appeared. Despite the sharp call of the lieutenant, who at first bravely stood his ground, the advancing little force of redcoats was thrown into confusion. The men scattered and fled, and the surprise and consternation were complete. But in whichever direction they turned, apparently enemies were there to meet them, and they were turned back only to try to escape by fleeing in another direction. But the shouts and the numbers of the attacking party increased with every passing moment.
Left to himself for the time, Robert Dorlon instantly made use of the unexpected opportunity to escape that had presented itself. As the men broke and fled, for a moment he stood motionless and glanced eagerly all about him, but it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe in the dim light. The shouting was also confusing, and the men appeared to be coming from every side.
Instantly he cast himself upon the ground by the roadside, resolved to lie quiet till the first excitement had passed. That the attacking party consisted of friends he had no doubt, and as soon as the redcoats had fled and the others were masters of the field, he would arise and declare himself. A feeling of exultation possessed him. He had been able to retain the precious letter which had been intrusted to his keeping, and soon he would be able to return and secure his horse, and then could once more push swiftly forward on his way. The shouts and calls of the men sounded almost like music in his ears. The presence of friends at such a moment, of all times, was most welcome. He lifted his head from the ground and gazed about him. He could see the dim outlines of men in the distance, but pursuers and pursued were much alike in the dim light. A half dozen men were coming swiftly up the road toward the place where he was lying, and they were shouting wildly to those who were far in advance of them. Ignoring his own peril, he raised himself from the ground, and instantly was seen by the approaching men, two of whom stopped and seized him, as one of them shouted, "Here's one! He must have been hit!"
Seizing Robert roughly by the shoulder, he said, "Come along with me, my man! I 'll put you where you won't bother the redcoats and Tories at Esopus again!"
Forgetful of the fact that the others did not know him, or could be aware of his presence in the force, perceiving only that his welcome was decidedly lacking in the cordial feeling which he himself had had, Robert roughly flung the man from him as he exclaimed, "Don't put your hands on me!"
"Give up, or I 'll blow your brains out!" shouted the man angrily, as he rose from the ground and started again with his companion toward Robert.
The powerful young express seized one of the advancing men by the shoulders and flung him far back from the road, and then turned upon the other who was raising his gun to his shoulder. Leaping upon him, Robert bore him to the ground, seized the gun in his hands, wrenched it from the grasp of the prostrate man, and instantly turned to face the first man, who had recovered from his fall, and was again about to rush upon him.
"Stand back there! Stop where you are!" he shouted in his excitement. "What do you want to treat one of your own men in this fashion for?"
"You 're a Tory! You 're a redcoat!" shouted the man in reply. "I saw you! You 're one of 'em! Give yourself up or it 'll be the worse for you!"—"Come back here and help us!" he shouted, calling to his companions who had rushed forward. "Come back here! Here's one of 'em who won't give himself up!"
Robert did not wait to ascertain what the effect of the call was as he said hastily, "I'm no redcoat. You 've made a mistake. I'm as good an American as you are. Come on! I 'll go with you."
"Come on, then!" exclaimed the man, as he rushed forward and roughly grasped Robert by one arm. "Take him by the other arm, Joe!" he called to his companion.
As the second man advanced, Robert peered into his face and exclaimed, "Joe Nott! What are you doing here?"
The man, startled by the unexpected demand, in turn peered into the face of Robert, and said in astonishment, "Are you young Dorlon?"
"I am!"
"Do you know him, Joe? Is he all right?" demanded the other.
"Sound as a button. Of course he's all right. But"—
"Come along then! Don't stand here like a hen with her head cut off! We must help chase the redcoats. Come on! Better keep an eye on him," he added warningly, as all three began to run swiftly in the direction in which their recent companions had disappeared.
Whether it was due to the delay or to the speed at which the surprised men were fleeing Robert did not know, but they were unable to obtain even a glimpse of any of the men who had broken and fled at the sudden attack, and in the course of a half hour all three returned to the fork in the road where it had been agreed that all should assemble after the pursuit of the band of redcoats. Most of the band were already there when the three returned, and it was discovered that five men had been secured and were prisoners in their hands. Robert quickly passed from one to another, hoping to find Claudius Brown in the number, but the leader of the Thirteen was not to be seen, and evidently he had succeeded in escaping from his pursuers. Then Robert quickly sought out his friend Joseph and said to him,—
"I must go back to the place where I left my horse. Can you come with me?"
"You 're a fine looking object!" exclaimed Joseph, with a laugh. "Your clothes look like a lot of holes tied together."
"Yours would, too, if you had been through what I have," replied Robert grimly.
"What's that?"
"I 'll tell you all about it on our way back, and you can tell me how you happened to be here. It was mighty fortunate that you were, for me, anyway."
"All right. Come on, I 'll ask Captain Wood."
The two young men sought the leader of the force of fifty men, and though at first he appeared to be somewhat suspicious of Robert, he was soon convinced by Joseph's word that he was what he claimed to be. He refused permission for Joseph to return with his friend, however, explaining that his presence might be required at any moment, and also that, as there was but one horse, there would be a disadvantage in two men going to secure it. Somewhat disappointed, the boys turned away, and Robert prepared to return to Jacob's tavern, or rather to the place where his tavern had stood; but before he set forth he was surprised as well as pleased by a word which Joseph gave him.