United States or Western Sahara ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


Surely Captain Grant told you as much." The Colonel's eyes wandered about the little group, and his doubt and bewilderment were clearly evident. "Do you know Eric's purpose in coming here? in presuming to act as an officer in Delavan's company?" "He did not inform me, sir." "You know this man?" She turned, and looked at me for the first time, a silent plea in her blue eyes.

"Why did you ask so many questions about Delavan's lieutenant?" he began sullenly. "What were you trying to find out?" What was the matter with the fellow? Could he have sent for me merely to ask that question, insisting on privacy? There must surely be some hidden purpose behind this. Yet if so, there was no betrayal in the man's face.

"Get your men back into saddle; we'll move on." "Think he went this way?" asked the blacksmith carelessly. "How the hell do I know!" savagely. "He must have started this way, but likely he took the north road. We'll get the chap before night, unless he runs into Delavan's fellows out yonder. See here, Farrell," holding in his horse, "we'll be back here about dark, and will want something to eat."

The two Hessians looked at each other stupidly, and I asked the question again before Grant saw fit to reply. His manner was excessively insolent. "That is more than I know. We joined after dark, and I did not meet Delavan's officers." "He vas vat you call maype a volunteer leftentant," added one of the Germans brokenly. "At Mount Holly we met, yah, and from there he joined."

"Not one of Delavan's men then?" "I dink not; he vas Light Dragoon. I haf the vagon guard the first vagons an' see him there. Mine Gott! he come pack vid his mens all right slash, shoot his horse rear up; that vas the last I see already." "The lad got away, with three others, sir," broke in a new voice at my back. "They wheeled and rode through us, across the water.

The advancing body was less than a hundred strong, Queen's Rangers and Hessians, from their uniforms, straggling along on foot, limping, dusty, and without arms. These must be the remnant of Delavan's command, released by their guard of partisans, and now wearily seeking refuge. But why were they coming here? Surely this was not the Philadelphia road?

I was in the fight over yonder near Mount Laurel night before last when we captured Delavan's forage train " "What!" burst in the dragoon officer. "Was Delavan defeated, then? Hadn't Grant joined him?" "Yes to both questions, sir. Delavan was killed, and Grant surrendered. He and his men were paroled, and started for Philadelphia last evening from here." "From here!" incredulously.

Camden militia! By all the gods, Farrell was there! It was the voice of the Irish minute man heard the night we captured Delavan's raiders. Then I closed my eyes, and forgot. I was unconscious, yet not for long. The first touch of water served to revive me, and I became aware that an arm supported my head, although everything was indistinct before my eyes.

He had reasons to believe me a spy, but there was not a paper on my body to confirm that suspicion, and my having been in apparent command of the minute men in their attack on Delavan's foragers was no license for hanging. That was an incident of war, and might have occurred in the direct performance of a soldier's duty.

He had turned the tables most neatly, and I glanced down over my rough garments, awakening suddenly to the knowledge that I was also in masquerade. To be sure I had one advantage I knew these men had been part of Delavan's foragers, and hence at heart must be loyalists. "That is not a question I intend answering to every ruffian who stops me on the highway," I returned shortly.