Then Marched the Brave/Chapter IV

CHAPTER IV

THROUGH THE CAVE

That same night, as Andy lay sleeping, a strange sound startled him. In an instant he was out of bed, and limping toward the window. Again came the plaintive sound. It was some one mimicking a night-owl, and doing it very badly, as the boy's true ear detected at once.

Andy replied, in a much better imitation; then, from out the shrubbery beneath the window, the master stepped forth in the moonlight. He beckoned to the boy, and then moved back into the shadow of the trees.

Always, with Andy, there was the struggle between the quick, alert mind and will, and the weaker body. However, with trembling fingers, he dressed as rapidly as possible, gladly remembering that he could reach the ground by the vine, thus saving time, and making sure that his mother would not be disturbed.

In a few moments he was ready. He dropped his crutch cautiously from the window, and began to descend himself. The man among the shadows did not move, though his expectant eyes were on the watch. Andy, keeping well in the shelter of the shade, reached his friend.

"That fellow we met to-day was prowling about the house an hour ago," whispered the master; "he looked boldly into my window. I was awake and saw his features distinctly, though I fancy he thought me unconscious. I saw him leave by the stream path. He thinks me safe for to-night, but they are suspicious, those Britishers, and you and I must get through the passage to their lines to-night. I believe something is afoot, and they do not wish to run any chances. Lead on, Andy McNeal; before break of day I must know all, all that is possible, and be away."

"Follow!" said Andy, trembling with excitement, but losing no time. Down upon hands and knees they went, and no creatures of the wood and night could have been more silent.

"All's well!" came from a far-off sentry; and the man and boy breathed quicker. A moment of rest at the opening of the cave-like path where Andy and the master had first met, then into the narrow gloom toward the danger line.

"The way is narrow," whispered Andy, "but it leads out just behind the British tents."

"Ah! for Vulcan's hammer!" laughed the master softly; "I'd hew me a broader path, Andy. The width of me suffers sorely for the cause." Andy smiled in the darkness. The mirth in the master's voice gave courage.

"It is broader further on," encouraged the guide.

"God be praised for that!" groaned the man as he came in contact again with the rocks.

The crutch had been left at the entrance, well hidden. Hands and knees were all that were needed on that journey. Once a slimy creature crawled across the master's hand, and he uttered an exclamation.

"Don't do that again!" breathed Andy, in alarm.

The minutes seemed endless, and the progress very slow. The darkness was so intense that it was something of a shock to the master when he suddenly became aware that he could see the outline of his guide's body. There was a small opening ahead, and a gleam of moonlight shot in! Neither spoke. If the British sentry was beyond there was every need of stillness now.

"I hear steps!" said Andy in a breath; "listen!"

The duller ear of the master heard no sound for a moment, then slowly and alarmingly near, he did catch the sound of the measured tread of a soldier, and, from the opposite direction evidently, a second man. Near the opening the two met.

"Fine night, Martin; everything quiet?"

"Quiet? Lord, yes! If something does not happen soon, I swear I'll cut and run. It wouldn't take a great deal to make me quit. The pluck of the rebels rather tickles me. I've half a mind to toss my luck among them, and stand or fall with the colonies."

"Better change your mind," laughed the other; "something's going to happen and that pretty quick."

"Is that hearsay, Norton, or authentic? I've just come into camp. I've been having a picnic over on Long Island—raiding farms and doing a lot of dirty work that sickens me. Clean fighting is what I set out to do, and gad! this kind of thing turns a fellow's stomach. We've been fed on the talk that these rebels are cowards. Cowards, bah! And as for that big, silent general of theirs, he—he rather appeals to me!"

"Don't be white-livered, Martin!" sneered Norton. "You may get some cold steel from your own countrymen for uttering such sentiments. My information is all right, it comes from his lordship himself. Washington is too dangerous to leave longer alone; should he find out—what was that?"

The master, less a child of the woods than Andy, in his excitement had tried to creep closer, and the quick ear of the sentinel had noticed the sound.

"It is this accursed spot again!" muttered Norton; "twice lately I could have sworn I heard breathing among the bushes. I've beaten every inch of ground, and not a living creature have I found. I'm not squirmish, and a rebel now and then don't count, but—well, you know I brought that parson's cub down a bit further back. Lord! how the fellow strutted, and when I called to him he started like a stuck pig. I cannot forget the look on his face as—as I fired.

"I'm agreeing with you, Martin, clean fighting or nothing. I'm not up to this slaughtering of infants myself. I half expect to see that baby playing in the moonlight every time a leaf rustles at night." The man laughed uneasily. "Once I fancied I saw a face—a pale boy-face—shining in the bushes. Lord, it gave me a turn!"

"Could there be a secret passage?" asked Martin in a low voice. "A fellow named Godkin told me an hour ago that he had his eye on a lame chap and a gawk of a schoolmaster who were always skulking around close to the ground. He says the boy lives hereabouts and knows the woods like a snake."

"No fool rebel could keep such a secret from me. Godkin likes to talk and swagger. He feels his oats. Come, just to pass the time, let's beat the bushes."

"Back out!" breathed Andy. There was no time to be lost. But the backward movement was most painfully slow. The men tramping in the bushes, feeling the thing but child-play, laughed and talked loudly.

"How many men has the old fox!" asked Martin, giving a cut to the bushes with his gun.

"Twelve thousand, though he gives out many more."

"He's got grit," rejoined Martin, "with my lord gripping his throat at close quarters with double that number at his heels, to stand still and calm as—as this rock! Gad, I nearly broke my gun! This land produces more rocks than anything else. I heard Washington is planning to get on Long Island again."

"He'll never get there. My Lord Howe—what in thunder!" Norton had slipped and fallen, and as he lay so, his face was on a level with the opening in the rocks!

"Come here!" he gasped. "Got a light! There's a hole here."

Martin struck a light and peered in. As he did so Andy's white, horrified face gleamed forth from the shadow. Without a word the head was withdrawn, and both Andy and the master knew that the man, or both men, would follow at once.

"They are big!" moaned Andy, "and they do not know the way as we do. Oh, hurry!"

The master feared that the sentinel would fire into the cave, but as the moment passed, and he did not, he took heart, and crept backward as fast as he could. Then came the sure sound of the chase. One or both had entered the passage! They had this advantage; they could come straight on, while the pursued were going backward, the master, being the bulkier and more uncertain, barring Andy's smaller body.

"For our lives!" almost sobbed the boy.

The oncoming foe once or twice struck a light, but the curving of the passage hid the prey. However, the sound ahead was enough to guide the Britishers. Then suddenly the master became wedged, and the leader of the pursuers came so near that Andy fancied he felt his breath.

"I don't hear the little scamp!" muttered Norton; "perhaps the passage divides. Wait until I strike a light." In that instant the master extricated himself, and with desperate haste the two backed along, while the light flickered, and then went out, much to the dismay of the foe.

"Hurry!" commanded Norton; "I hear him again; don't fool with the light!" The head man and Andy were not a yard apart now, and the narrowest of the passage was yet to come!

The master realized this, too. He knew if he were to get wedged again all would be over, and Andy was the one nearest the enemy! He paused and Andy came in violent contact with him. The leading Britisher was upon them! The form behind Andy darted forth an arm of steely muscle, and a terrific blow fell sure and sudden on the face of the British sentinel!

"My God!" screamed the fellow, and "The devil!" echoed from his companion.

"Now!" whispered the master, "this is our last fling!"

It was over at last. The entrance was gained. Taking no time to consider how spent Andy was, the master began to pile rocks at the opening. It took not overlong, for the mouth of the cave was small.

"So!" almost laughed the master in his relief, "before my British friend gets his senses back, the way is barred. Good! Here, Andy, lad, give me your hand. To the house, and to bed. Ere daybreak I must be well away from here. They are planning an attack at once, and I know where I can get the plans, methinks. That fellow saw you, and there is no further chance for me here."

"You—you are going?" Andy, leaning on the master and his crutch, was making good headway. "The man saw only me; surely you can stay in safety."

"Andy, do you think the fellow thought you dealt that blow?" The clear laugh was stifled. "No; we are marked men. But I am on the right course now. Washington shall soon have the papers he needs."

"Where do you go?" whispered Andy; "can I not be of use?"

"Not now, my friend, and if we never meet again, Andy McNeal, remember whom we have both served well, and that you have made brighter for me many a weary hour. I care not what the thoughtless may think of me, but I would have you know that what the future holds of seeming dishonor and shame, I assumed in truest loyalty.

"From what I am to do, others shrank. I saw but one way, though, God knows, my heart was wrung. I reserve nothing. Even what seems my honor I give to my country and Washington!"

The master and Andy stood still in the moonlight, and the two young faces gleamed white and troubled. "Good-night and farewell. Thank your mother." He was gone.

Andy painfully and slowly climbed the stairs and entered his bedroom.

His heart was very heavy. He had seemed on the verge of doing a great service, and behold, the chance had fled.