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Updated: June 26, 2025
You have to thank Lancey for anything I have done for you. There is, it seems, to be an exchange of prisoners soon, and I have managed that you and Lancey shall be among the number. You must be ready to take the road to-morrow." I thanked the Pasha heartily, but expressed surprise that one in so exalted a position should have found difficulty in the matter.
Colonel De Lancey was greatly chagrined at this decision, and on the 11th July he wrote to Winslow: "If what I am informed is true, we might better be all of us in New York. Could we have known this a little earlier it would have saved you the trouble of exploring the country for the benefit of a people you are not connected with. In short it is a subject too disagreeable to say more upon."
I want you to warn Miss Winslow yourself. You can't put it too strongly. Use your judgment about Mrs. de Lancey. I don't want to get you in wrong with her. But, remember, it's a matter of life or death or perhaps worse. Try to do it without unnecessarily alarming Miss Winslow, if you can. Just fix it up as quietly as possible. But be positive about it. No, I can't explain more over the wire now.
He was thirty-one years old, had lived at Cooperstown, studied at Yale, shipped as a sailor before the mast, made voyages to England and Spain, been appointed midshipman, and seen service on Lake Ontario and Lake Champlain, had resigned his commission, and had married Augusta de Lancey at Heathcote Hill Manor, Mamaroneck.
After translating it all, and listening to something in reply, the officer turned again to Lancey. "The captin," he said, with quiet gravity, "bids me tell to you that you is a liar." Lancey flushed deeply. "I would tell you," he said, with a frown, "to tell the captain that 'e's another, on'y that would show I was as bad-mannered as 'imself."
Lancey knew not his name, but in a voice of thunder he shouted "'Elp! 'elp! 'allo! Pasha! Redbeard! The executioner hastened his work, and stopped the outcry by tightening the rope. But "Redbeard" had heard the cry. He galloped towards the place of execution, recognised the supposed spy, and ordered him to be released, at the same time himself cutting the rope with a sweep of his sword.
He was on his way to the front, when the detachment with which he travelled met with a reverse which materially affected his fortunes for some time after. There were two Turkish soldiers with whom Lancey was thrown much in contact, and with whom he had become very intimate.
Ali Bobo turned in his shallow grave, scattered the sod, and, sitting up, looked round him with an expression of surprise. At that moment the moon came out as if expressly for the purpose of throwing light on the dusty, blood-stained, and cadaverous visage of the Turk. Jacob Lancey, although a brave man, was superstitious.
Lancey was about to do the same, being retarded by the broken stirrup-leather, when a tremendous shout caused his horse to swerve, break its bridle, and dash away. At the same moment a band of Don Cossacks came swooping down the gorge. Lancey flung himself flat beneath a mass of underwood. The Cossacks saw only one horseman, and went past the place with a wild yell.
He entered, flung himself on the straw, and fell sound asleep almost immediately. The sun was shining high in the heavens when he was awakened by a rude shake. He started up and found himself in the rough grasp of a Bulgarian peasant. Lancey, although mentally and morally a man of peace, was physically pugnacious.
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