CHAPTER XX.

  If your father will do me any honor, so;
  If not, let him kill the next Percy himself:
  I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you.
  Falstaff.

Manual cast sundry discontented and sullen looks from his captors to the remnant of his own command, while the process of pinioning the latter was conducted, with much discretion, under the directions of Sergeant Drill, when meeting, in one of his dissatisfied glances, with the pale and disturbed features of Griffith, he gave vent to his ill-humor, by saying:

“This results from neglecting the precautions of military discipline. Had the command been with men, who, I may say, without boasting, have been accustomed to the duties of the field, proper pickets would have been posted, and instead of being caught like so many rabbits in a burrow, to be smoked out with brimstone, we should have had an open field for the struggle; or we might have possessed ourselves of these walls, which I could have made good for two hours at least, against the best regiment that ever wore King George's facings.”

“Defend the outworks before retreating to the citadel!” cried Borroughcliffe; “'tis the game of war, and shows science: but had you kept closer to your burrow, the rabbits might now have all been frisking about in that pleasant abode. The eyes of a timid hind were greeted this morning, while journeying near this wood, with a passing sight of armed men in strange attire; and as he fled, with an intent of casting himself into the sea, as fear will sometimes urge one of his kind to do, he luckily encountered me on the cliffs, who humanely saved his life, by compelling him to conduct us hither. There is often wisdom in science, my worthy contemporary in arms; but there is sometimes safety in ignorance.”

“You have succeeded, sir, and have a right to be pleasant,” said Manual, seating himself gloomily on a fragment of the ruin, and fastening his looks on the melancholy spectacle of the lifeless bodies, as they were successively brought from the vault and placed at his feet; “but these men have been my own children, and you will excuse me if I cannot retort your pleasantries. Ah! Captain Borroughcliffe, you are a soldier, and know how to value merit. I took those very fellows, who sleep on these stones so quietly, from the hands of nature, and made them the pride of our art. They were no longer men, but brave lads, who ate and drank, wheeled and marched, loaded and fired, laughed or were sorrowful, spoke or were silent, only at my will. As for soul, there was but one among them all, and that was in my keeping! Groan, my children, groan freely now; there is no longer a reason to be silent. I have known a single musket-bullet cut the buttons from the coats of five of them in a row, without raising the skin of a man! I could ever calculate, with certainty, how many it would be necessary to expend in all regular service; but this accursed banditti business has robbed me of the choicest of my treasures. You stand at ease now, my children; groan, it will soften your anguish.”

Borroughcliffe appeared to participate, in some degree, in the feelings of his captive, and he made a few appropriate remarks in the way of condolence, while he watched the preparations that were making by his own men to move. At length his orderly announced that substitutes for barrows were provided to sustain the wounded, and inquired if it were his pleasure to return to their quarters.

“Who has seen the horse?” demanded the captain; “which way did they march? Have they gained any tidings of the discovery of this party of the enemy?”

“Not from us, your honor,” returned the sergeant; “they had ridden along the coast before we left the cliffs, and it was said their officer intended to scour the shore for several miles, and spread the alarm.”

“Let him; it is all such gay gallants are good for. Drill, honor is almost as scarce an article with our arms just now as promotion. We seem but the degenerate children of the heroes of Poictiers;—you understand me, sergeant?”

“Some battle fou't by his majesty's troops against the French, your honor,” returned the orderly, a little at a loss to comprehend the expression of his officer's eye.

“Fellow, you grow dull on victory,” exclaimed Borroughcliffe: “come hither, I would give you orders. Do you think, Mister Drill, there is more honor, or likely to be more profit, in this little morning's amusement than you and I can stand under?”

“I should not, your honor: we have both pretty broad shoulders——”

“That are not weakened by undue burdens of this nature,” Interrupted his captain, significantly: “if we let the news of this affair reach the ears of those hungry dragoons, they would charge upon us open-mouthed, like a pack of famished beagles, and claim at least half the credit, and certainly all the profit.”

“But, your honor, there was not a man of them even——”

“No matter, Drill; I've known troops that have been engaged, and have suffered, cheated out of their share of victory by a well-worded despatch. You know, fellow, that in the smoke and confusion of a battle, a man can only see what passes near him, and common prudence requires that he only mention in his official letters what he knows can't be easily contradicted. Thus your Indians, and, indeed, all allies, are not entitled to the right of a general order, any more than to the right of a parade. Now, I dare say, you have heard of a certain battle of Blenheim?”

“Lord! your honor, 'tis the pride of the British army, that and the Culloden! 'Twas when the great Corporal John beat the French king, and all his lords and nobility, with half his nation in arms to back him.”

“Ay! there is a little of the barrack readings in the account, but it is substantially true; know you how many French were in the field that day, Mister Drill?”

“I have never seen the totals of their muster, sir, in print; but, judging by the difference betwixt the nations, I should suppose some hundreds of thousands.”

“And yet, to oppose this vast army, the duke had only ten or twelve thousand well-fed Englishmen! You look astounded, sergeant!”

“Why, your honor, that does seem rather an over-match for an old soldier to swallow; the random shot would sweep away so small a force.”

“And yet the battle was fought, and the victory won! but the Duke of Marlborough had a certain Mr. Eugene, with some fifty or sixty thousand High-Dutchers, to back him. You never heard of Mr. Eugene?”

“Not a syllable, your honor; I always thought that Corporal John——”

“Was a gallant and great general; you thought right, Mister Drill. So would a certain nameless gentleman be also, if his majesty would sign a commission to that effect. However, a majority is on the high road to a regiment, and with even a regiment a man is comfortable! In plain English, Mister Drill, we must get our prisoners into the abbey with as little noise as possible, in order that the horse may continue their gambols along the coast, without coming to devour our meal. All the fuss must be made at the war-office: for that trifle you may trust me; I think I know who holds a quill that is as good in its way as the sword he wears. Drill is a short name, and can easily be written within the folds of a letter.”

“Lord, your honor!” said the gratified halberdier, “I'm sure such an honor is more—but your honor can ever command me!”

“I do; and it is to be close, and to make your men keep close, until it shall be time to speak, when I pledge myself there shall be noise enough.” Borroughcliffe shook his head, with a grave air, as he continued: “It has been a devil of a bloody fight, sergeant! look at the dead and wounded; a wood on each flank—supported by a ruin in the centre. Oh! ink—ink can be spilt on the details with great effect. Go, fellow, and prepare to march.”

Thus enlightened on the subject of his commander's ulterior views, the non-commissioned agent of the captain's wishes proceeded to give suitable instructions to the rest of the party, and to make the more immediate preparations for a march. The arrangements were soon completed. The bodies of the slain were left unsheltered, the seclusion of the ruin being deemed a sufficient security against the danger of any discovery, until darkness should favor their removal, In conformity with Borroughcliffe's plan to monopolize the glory. The wounded were placed on rude litters composed of the muskets and blankets of the prisoners, when the conquerors and vanquished moved together in a compact body from the ruin, in such a manner as to make the former serve as a mask to conceal the latter from the curious gaze of any casual passenger. There was but little, indeed, to apprehend on this head, for the alarm and terror, consequent on the exaggerated reports that flew through the country, effectually prevented any intruders on the usually quiet and retired domains of St. Ruth.

The party was emerging from the wood, when the cracking of branches, and rustling of dried leaves, announced, however, that an interruption of some sort was about to occur.

“If it should be one of their rascally patrols!” exclaimed Borroughcliffe, with very obvious displeasure; “they trample like a regiment of cavalry! but, gentlemen, you will acknowledge yourselves, that we were retiring from the field of battle when we met the reinforcement, if it should prove to be such.”

“We are not disposed, sir, to deny you the glory of having achieved your victory single-handed,” said Griffith, glancing his eyes uneasily in the direction of the approaching sounds, expecting to see the Pilot issue from the thicket in which he seemed to be entangled, instead of any detachment of his enemies.

“Clear the way, Caesar!” cried a voice at no great distance from them; “break through the accursed vines on my right, Pompey!—press forward, my fine fellows, or we may be too late to smell even the smoke of the fight.”

“Hum!” ejaculated the captain, with his philosophic indifference of manner entirely re-established, “this must be a Roman legion just awoke from a trance of some seventeen centuries, and that the voice of a centurion. We will halt, Mister Drill, and view the manner of an ancient march!”

While the captain was yet speaking, a violent effort disengaged the advancing party from the thicket of brambles in which they had been entangled, when two blacks, each bending under a load of firearms, preceded Colonel Howard, into the clear space where Borroughcliffe had halted his detachment. Some little time was necessary to enable the veteran to arrange his disordered dress, and to remove the perspiring effects of the unusual toil from his features, before he could observe the addition to the captain's numbers.

“We heard you fire,” cried the old soldier, making, at the same time, the most diligent application of his bandana, “and I determined to aid you with a sortie, which, when judiciously timed, has been the means of raising many a siege; though, had Montcalm rested quietly within his walls, the plains of Abr'am might never have drunk his blood.”

“Oh! his decision was soldierly, and according to all rules of war,” exclaimed Manual; “and had I followed his example, this day might have produced a different tale!”

“Why, who have we here!” cried the colonel, in astonishment; “who is it that pretends to criticise battles and sieges, dressed in such a garb?”

“Tis a dux incognitorum, my worthy host,” said Borroughcliffe; “which means, in our English language, a captain of marines in the service of the American Congress.”

“What! have you then met the enemy? ay! and by the fame of the immortal Wolfe, you have captured them!” cried the delighted veteran. “I was pressing on with a part of my garrison to your assistance, for I had seen that you were marching in this direction, and even the report of a few muskets was heard.”

“A few!” interrupted the conqueror; “I know not what you call a few, my gallant and ancient friend: you may possibly have shot at each other by the week in the days of Wolfe, and Abercrombie, and Braddock; but I too have seen smart firing, and can hazard an opinion in such matters There was as pretty a roll made by firearms at the battles on the Hudson as ever rattled from a drum; it is all over, and many live to talk of it, but this has been the most desperate affair, for the numbers, I ever was engaged in! I speak always with a reference to the numbers. The wood is pretty well sprinkled with dead; and we have contrived to bring off a few of the desperately wounded with us, as you may perceive.”

“Bless me!” exclaimed the surprised veteran, “that such an engagement should happen within musket-shot of the abbey, and I know so little of it! My faculties are on the wane, I fear, for the time has been when a single discharge would rouse me from the deepest sleep.”

“The bayonet is a silent weapon,” returned the composed captain, with a significant wave of his hand; “'tis the Englishman's pride, and every experienced officer knows that one thrust from it is worth the fire of a whole platoon.”

“What, did you come to the charge!” cried the colonel; “by the Lord, Borroughcliffe, my gallant young friend, I would have given twenty tierces of rice, and two able-bodied negroes, to have seen the fray!”

“It would have been a pleasant spectacle to witness, sans disputation,” returned the captain; “but victory is ours without the presence of Achilles, this time. I have them, all that survive the affair; at least, all that have put foot on English soil.”

“Ay! and the king's cutter has brought in the schooner!” added Colonel Howard. “Thus perish all rebellion for ever more! Where's Kit? my kinsman, Mr. Christopher Dillon; I would ask him what the laws of the realm next prescribe to loyal subjects. Here will be work for the jurors of Middlesex, Captain Borroughcliffe, if not for a secretary of state's warrant. Where is Kit, my kinsman; the ductile, the sagacious, the loyal Christopher?”

“The Cacique 'non est,' as more than one bailiff has said of sundry clever fellows in our regiment, when there has been a pressing occasion for their appearance,” said the soldier; “but the cornet of horse has given me reason to believe that his provincial lordship, who repaired on board the cutter to give intelligence of the position of the enemy, continued there to share the dangers and honors of naval combat.”

“Ay, 'tis like him!” cried the colonel, rubbing his hands with glee; “'tis like him! he has forgotten the law and his peaceful occupations, at the sounds of military preparation, and has carried the head of a statesman into the fight, with the ardor and thoughtlessness of a boy.”

“The Cacique is a man of discretion,” observed the captain, with all his usual dryness of manner, “and will, doubtless, recollect his obligations to posterity and himself, though he be found entangled in the mazes of a combat. But I marvel that he does not return, for some time has now elapsed since the schooner struck her flag, as my own eyes have witnessed.”

“You will pardon me, gentlemen,” said Griffith, advancing towards them with uncontrollable interest; “but I have unavoidably heard part of your discourse, and cannot think you will find it necessary to withhold the whole truth from a disarmed captive: say you that a schooner has been captured this morning?”

“It is assuredly true,” said Borroughcliffe, with a display of nature and delicacy in his manner that did his heart infinite credit; “but I forbore to tell you, because I thought your own misfortunes would be enough for one time. Mr. Griffith, this gentleman is Colonel Howard, to whose hospitality you will be indebted for some favors before we separate.”

“Griffith!” echoed the colonel, in quick reply, “Griffith! what a sight for my old eyes to witness!—the child of worthy, gallant, loyal Hugh Griffith a captive, and taken in arms against his prince! Young man, young man, what would thy honest father, what would his bosom friend, my own poor brother Harry, have said, had it pleased God that they had survived to witness this burning shame and lasting stigma on thy respectable name?”

“Had my father lived, he would now have been upholding the independence of his native land,” said the young man, proudly. “I wish to respect even the prejudices of Colonel Howard, and beg he will forbear urging a subject on which I fear we never shall agree.”

“Never, while thou art to be found in the ranks of rebellion!” cried the colonel. “Oh! boy! boy! how I could have loved and cherished thee, if the skill and knowledge obtained in the service of thy prince were now devoted to the maintenance of his unalienable rights! I loved thy father, worthy Hugh, even as I loved my own brother Harry.”

“And his son should still be dear to you,” interrupted Griffith, taking the reluctant hand of the colonel into both his own.

“Ah, Edward, Edward!” continued the softened veteran, “how many of my day-dreams have been destroyed by thy perversity! nay, I know not that Kit, discreet and loyal as he is, could have found such a favor in my eyes as thyself; there is a cast of thy father in that face and smile, Ned, that might have won me to anything short of treason—and then Cicely, provoking, tender, mutinous, kind affectionate, good Cicely, would have been a link to unite us forever.”

The youth cast a hasty glance at the deliberate Borroughcliffe, who, if he had obeyed the impatient expression of his eye, would have followed the party that was slowly bearing the wounded towards the abbey, before he yielded to his feelings, and answered:

“Nay, sir; let this then be the termination of our misunderstanding—your lovely niece shall be that link, and you shall be to me as your friend Hugh would have been had he lived, and to Cecilia twice a parent.”

“Boy, boy,” said the veteran, averting his face to conceal the working of his muscles, “you talk idly; my word is now plighted to my kinsman Kit, and thy scheme is impracticable.”

“Nothing is impracticable, sir, to youth and enterprise, when aided by age and experience like yours,” returned Griffith; “this war must soon terminate.”

“This war!” echoed the colonel, shaking loose the grasp which Griffith held on his arm; “ay! what of this war, young man? Is it not an accursed attempt to deny the rights of our gracious sovereign, and to place tyrants, reared in kennels, on the throne of princes! a scheme to elevate the wicked at the expense of the good! a project to aid unrighteous ambition, under the mask of sacred liberty and the popular cry of equality! as if there could be liberty without order! or equality of rights, where the privileges of the sovereign are not as sacred as those of the people!”

“You judge us harshly, Colonel Howard,” said Griffith.

“I judge you!” interrupted the old soldier, who, by this time, thought the youth resembled any one rather than his friend Hugh; “it is not my province to judge you at all; if it were!—but the time will come, the time will come. I am a patient man, and can wait the course of things; yes, yes, age cools the blood, and we learn to suppress the passions and impatience of youth: but if the ministry would issue a commission of justice for the colonies, and put the name of old George Howard in it, I am a dog, if there should be a rebel alive in twelve months. Sir,” turning sternly to Borroughcliffe, “in such a case, I could prove a Roman, and hang—hang—yes, I do think, sir, I could hang my kinsman, Mr. Christopher Dillon!”

“Spare the Cacique such unnatural elevation before his time,” returned the captain with a grave wave of the hand: “behold,” pointing towards the wood, “there is a more befitting subject for the gallows! Mr. Griffith, yonder man calls himself your comrade?”

The eyes of Colonel Howard and Griffith followed the direction of his finger, and the latter instantly recognized the Pilot, standing in the skirts of the wood, with his arms folded, apparently surveying the condition of his friends.

“That man,” said Griffith, in confusion, and hesitating to utter even the equivocal truth that suggested itself, “that man does not belong to our ship's company.”

“And yet he has been seen in your company,” returned the incredulous Borroughcliffe; “he was the spokesman in last night's examination, Colonel Howard, and, doubtless, commands the rear-guard of the rebels.”

“You say true,” cried the veteran; “Pompey! Caesar! present! fire!”

The blacks started at the sudden orders of their master, of whom they stood in the deepest awe; and, presenting their muskets, they averted their faces, and, shutting their eyes, obeyed the bloody mandate.

“Charge!” shouted the colonel, flourishing the ancient sword with which he had armed himself, and pressing forward with all the activity that a recent fit of the gout would allow, “charge, and exterminate the dogs with the bayonet! push on, Pompey—dress, boys, dress.”

“If your friend stands this charge,” said Borroughcliffe to Griffith, with unmoved composure, “his nerves are made of iron; such a charge would break the Coldstreams; with Pompey in the ranks!”

“I trust in God,” cried Griffith, “he will have forbearance enough to respect the weakness of Colonel Howard!—he presents a pistol!”

“But he will not fire; the Romans deem it prudent to halt; nay, by heaven, they countermarch to the rear. Holla! Colonel Howard, my worthy host, fall back on your reinforcements; the wood is full of armed men; they cannot escape us; I only wait for the horse to cut off the retreat.”

The veteran, who had advanced within a short distance of the single man who thus deliberately awaited the attack, halted at this summons; and by a glance of his eye, ascertained that he stood alone. Believing the words of Borroughcliffe to be true, he slowly retired, keeping his face manfully towards his enemy, until he gained the support of the captain.

“Recall the troops, Borroughcliffe!” he cried, “and let us charge into the wood; they will fly before his majesty's arms like guilty scoundrels, as they are. As for the negroes, I'll teach the black rascals to desert their master at such a moment. They say Fear is pale, but, damme, Borroughcliffe, if I don't believe his skin is black.”

“I have seen him of all colors; blue, white, black, and particolored,” said the captain. “I must take the command of matters on myself, however, my excellent host; let us retire into the abbey, and trust me to cut off the remainder of the rebels.”

In this arrangement the colonel reluctantly acquiesced, and the three followed the soldier to the dwelling, at a pace that was adapted to the infirmities of its master. The excitement of the onset, and the current of his ideas, had united, however, to banish every amicable thought from the breast of the colonel, and he entered the abbey with a resolute determination of seeing justice dealt to Griffith and his companions, even though it should push them to the foot of the gallows.

As the gentlemen disappeared from his view, among the shrubbery of the grounds, the Pilot replaced the weapon that was hanging from his hand, in his bosom, and, turning with a saddened and thoughtful brow, he slowly re-entered the wood.