The Minute Boys of York Town. Otis James

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now, or shall we turn back to the plantation, and say that our hearts failed us at the last moment?"

      I looked at Pierre, who rose to his feet as if in answer to the question he saw in my eyes, and straightway we set off toward the town of York, little Frenchie insisting that we walk leisurely, as if having nothing of moment on our minds, and arguing that if we pressed forward at a rapid pace we might come upon those who would suspect we had some other aim than that of feeding an old slave.

      I am free to confess that my heart beat much more rapidly than it should have done when we approached the guard stationed here and there at intervals along the entire line of entrenchments on which soldiers were working with pick and shovel.

      Until that moment I had not questioned whether we might be allowed to enter the town; but now it seemed certain that whoever accosted us could read our purpose on our faces and mentally nerved myself either for disappointment or for disaster.

      "Who shall do the talking?" Saul asked when we were come near to a battery in which the guns were already mounted although the entrenchments on either side were far from being completed, and I fancied the lad was eager to act as spokesman; but I dared not trust him because of his quick temper. Therefore it was I said, firmly believing I spoke the truth:

      "Pierre is the one of us three who can best perform the part. If his tongue fails us, then can we make certain, Saul, that either you or I would have brought disaster. The lad has a quicker wit, knows far more about military encampments, although he boasts not, and can hold his temper in check."

      I have an idea that my cousin was not well pleased at being thus put under the command, as you might say, of little Frenchie; but there was no time for him to have made protest even though he was so disposed, because we were come so near the outposts that all our conversation might have been heard by the red-coated soldier who paced to and fro with a bayonet on his musket, looking as if ready to spit or strike any of us rebels who dared approach him.

      I believe none of us, except little Frenchie, could have worked the trick. He advanced within four or five paces of the sentinel, touched his hat in regular military salute, and asked if it might be possible for him to speak with the officer of the day.

      This puzzled me not a little, for I had no idea whatsoever who the "officer of the day" might be, or what his duties; but it appeared that Pierre knew what he was about, for straightway the sentinel, seeming to understand that this little lad was familiar with military usages, called up the officer of the guard, and, without waiting to be questioned, Pierre addressed him, stating courteously but without too many words, that there was an old slave in the town whom we feared stood in need of food and care, therefore had we come to hunt him up.

      When the officer asked where we counted on finding this slave, I had wit enough to step forward quickly and make reply, for Pierre, who had but little knowledge of the town of York, and none whatsoever as to the location of old Mary's cabin, could not have given answer.

      The whole matter was far more simple than I had hoped for. Pierre's story was so straight, he was so exceeding courteous, and apparently so ready to tell everything about himself and us, that even the most suspicious person would have been disarmed, and within five minutes after requesting permission, we were allowed to pass the sentinel, with no limit set as to the time we might remain in the lines.

      Saul, who I verily believed was disgruntled because little Frenchie had been allowed to act the part of leader, now took upon himself the command of our company by marching in advance, for he knew as well as did I where old Mary's cabin was located.

      You may be certain we kept our ears and eyes wide open as we walked through the village toward the Pigeon Quarter, and I was greatly disappointed because our way did not lead us past where the horses of Simcoe's Rangers were stabled, although certain it is, it would have given me greatest pain to have seen Silver Heels roughly used.

      There were many visitors in York on this forenoon; people from roundabout who had Tory inclinations, or who were ready to sell to the enemies of their country such of vegetables or farm produce as might bring them in a few shillings. A number from Gloucester who had been allowed to come across the river, and I even saw two lads whom I knew lived on Mobjack bay, roaming around with mouths wide open in astonishment at this vast encampment wherein, to their uneducated eyes, were soldiers enough to over-run all our colonies.

      Squads of Britishers were marching here and there; officers lounged through the narrow streets, most like making their way to the entrenchments. From every direction could be heard sounds telling of pick and shovel, the shouts of teamsters as they hauled heavy guns into position, the beating of drums, the shrill cry of fifes, and, in fact, all that bustle, noise and confusion which I have since learned attends a military encampment.

      As a matter of course we did not dare linger here or there, although very much was going on which it would have pleased me to observe; but we took good care to continue without hesitation toward the Pigeon Quarter, contenting ourselves with seeing what we might as we walked at a reasonably rapid pace.

      Strange as it may seem, I had given no thought as to whether Uncle 'Rasmus had succeeded in entering the village during the night; but took it for granted that he must have done so, until we were come within a stone's throw of old Mary's cabin, and then it was as if my heart stood still, for there were many chances that the old negro might have been arrested while trying to pass the guard and we would find in the hovel a squad of red-coats waiting to make prisoners of those who presented themselves there.

      I had so worked up my fears as to feel certain the moment had arrived when we were come to grief, that it was with difficulty I could check a cry of mingled relief and triumph on seeing Uncle 'Rasmus's black face at the window.

      I had never thought there was anything of beauty in the old negro's features, and, as a matter of fact, wrinkled and black as it was, one might truly have said that at times it was almost repulsive, yet as I saw him then it was as if I had never looked upon anything more beautiful.

      I ran hurriedly, excitedly, into the cabin, throwing myself into the old fellow's arms much as though welcoming him from the grave.

      "Fo' de Lawd's sake, honey, wha's gettin' on to you so pow'ful bad?" the old man cried in surprise, for probably this was the first time in all my life when I had shown real affection for him. "Hab de Britishers bin cuttin' up 'roun' de plantation since I done lef'?"

      "No; everything was quiet there when Saul set out this morning; but, oh, Uncle 'Rasmus! I had come to fancy you might have been taken prisoner, and that we were all in danger of being arrested for conspiring against the king."

      "Ho, ho!" the old negro laughed. "Why, honey, you don' 'spects Uncle 'Rasmus is gwine ter git his brack head inter trubble arter all dese yere years, does yer?"

      "But we knew you were counting on slipping through the lines, and if you'd been caught in anything of the kind – "

      "Did you eber try fo' to ketch a 'possum, honey, when he kind'er had a inklin' you was arter him? I 'lows Uncle 'Rasmus is gettin' mighty ole; but he ain' so feeble yet but he kin hol' his own agin dese yere red-coated sogers. Why bress yer soul, honey, I des walked right in like I was comin' home, an' don' 'low one o' 'em knowed dat a wuffless ole nigger was anywhar nigh him."

      Little Frenchie had taken the precaution to close the door immediately after our entrance, and while Uncle 'Rasmus and I were talking with no little show of excitement, the lad moved here and there, pulling a ragged curtain in front of one window, or closing the shutter of another, so that we might not attract attention from any passers-by, although this cabin of old Mary's was in what might well be called the outskirts of the village, where was little danger many people would come our way.

      "Tell us how you got in here, Uncle

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