CHAPTER XIII. THE MIDNIGHT FIRE.
Confident that he had ample time to report Colonel St. Leger's flight tohis superior, and learn when and how that officer intended to engage theContinentals, before any of his enemies could disclose his identity,Ira, after parting with his lieutenants, walked rapidly on to thenearest picket-post of the British camp.
Here his first trouble began. In no way could he convince the sentinelthat he had a right to pass through the lines. The fellow was a Hessian,who could not read, and the scout's paper, written both in English andGerman, directing that he be allowed to go in or out of the camp at alltimes, was of no avail. Therefore the captain of the guard had to besummoned.
He knew Ira, and permitted him to pass the picket, but, to the surpriseof the lad, held him up at the guard tent until his arrival could bemade known to the commander of that division, General Fraser. At lengthan order came for him to be allowed to report to the commander-in-chief,and he went on, believing it was the nearness of the enemy that hadcaused this unusual caution on the part of the British officers.
When he finally reached General Burgoyne, that officer, instead ofgreeting him with his usual warmth, merely nodded towards a camp stool,saying:
"Sit down, Master Le Geyt, I will hear your report in a short time," andthen he left the tent, remaining away at least ten minutes.
On his return he gazed searchingly at the scout for an instant, andthen, with an apparent effort to control himself, said:
"I am ready to listen to anything you have to tell me, sir."
His manner convinced the lad that something was wrong; but he was thereand must speak, therefore, acting as if he suspected nothing amiss, hebegan:
"I believe, General Burgoyne, that you have heard of the battle ofOriskany through Captain Brant, therefore know of its outcome, and Ineed not dwell upon it."
The officer merely bowed assent.
"The ill-feeling created there," Ira continued, "soon showed itselfthroughout the Indian encampment, so that when I first visited it someof the warriors had departed, and before I came away a bare hundred ofthe original force remained."
"You are sure you said nothing to hasten their departure?" the generalinquired pointedly.
"I only told them that large reinforcements were on the way tostrengthen the fort, which was true, sir. I passed Colonel Arnold withtwelve hundred men as I went up country."
"It makes a difference sometimes how even the truth is told," thecommander said, and again he gave the scout a searching glance.
"Yes, sir," the lad admitted; "but to continue my report, Colonel St.Leger, finding himself deserted by his allies, and unable to standagainst the Continental reinforcements, decided to abandon the siege.Retreating to Oswego, he has sailed for Canada."
"What!" screamed General Burgoyne, and it was evident there was dismayin his tones. "St. Leger gone without any order from me? Without sendingto me for a force sufficient to meet the rebels? Are you certain, sir,that you are telling me the truth?"
Ira flushed a trifle; but answered gravely:
"It is as I have said."
For the third time the commander gazed fixedly at his visitor, and thenremarked:
"I have a few questions to ask you, Master Le Geyt."
With no little misgivings the lad replied simply: "Yes, sir."
"Did you not tell me that you conducted the courier, George Preston, toMaster James Graham's in safety?"
Instantly the question was asked the lad knew that in some way theofficer had obtained an inkling of his real character. There was nothingto do but brave it out, therefore he replied promptly: "No, sir."
"What then did you tell me?" thundered the enraged officer.
"I reported that I had made the journey, and left the courier in safehands."
"Read that," the general cried, pushing a letter towards him. It was ona single sheet, and the words were written plainly.
"General Burgoyne, Honored Sir: I write this to make known to you the real character of your scout called Ira Le Geyt. He is a rebel. He delivered me into the hands of the rebels, and I have been imprisoned by them for weeks. But they did not find the papers I carried, and when this reaches you I shall be on my way down the river to deliver them. I trust it may be in time to secure the aid you desire. The bearer of this will tell you more about the young man. For the King,
"George Preston."
"Pray tell me, are those statements true?" the general asked sternly.
"No man need incriminate himself," Ira replied with a pale but resoluteface.
"Captain Howell declares that he saw you on Sugar Loaf Mountain thenight the guns were spiked, and that he has reason to believe you guidedhim to the place where the dam was built, using information he gave youto accomplish that purpose. Have you any answer to make to thesecharges?" the general demanded.
The scout remained silent.
"How far you are responsible for the defeat of Baum at Bennington, andthe flight of St. Leger, which you now report, I probably shall neverknow. But one thing is certain, sir. I have facts enough to hang you,"and the enraged officer looked at the scout as if it would be a pleasureto do it.
The lad returned the look without a token of fear; but made no answer.
"Possibly you think I do not know who you are," General Burgoynecontinued after a moment; "but wait," he stepped to the door of the tentand spoke to some one who was evidently standing there to be summoned.
The false Ira arose to find himself face to face with the real Ira LeGeyt. On one face there was a smile; on the other a frown. The look onegave said: "I will kill you"; the look the other bestowed, said: "Youcannot do it."
During a full minute the two stood there. Then the real Ira spoke.
"Give me that cross."
Without a word the young scout drew it from his bosom and, unfasteningits chain from his neck, handed it to the rightful owner. He pulled itapart, and taking a tiny paper from the hollow tube, passed it to thegeneral, who read:
"Fort Edward, June 1, 1777.
"To all officers of the Northern Army:
"This is to certify that the bearer of this paper is Lieutenant Philip Schuyler Jr., my son. He will personate the Tory, Ira Le Geyt, at the headquarters of General Burgoyne. You may rely upon all information he sends you.
"(Signed) Philip Schuyler, "General Commanding."
Before any other could speak, the young Tory, his eyes flashing, said:
"It is as I have already told you, general. This fellow, with a squad ofsoldiers, seized me while I was crossing the Hudson on my way to meetyou at Lake Champlain, and carried me to Fort Edward, where I wasimprisoned. They took not only papers, but my entire outfit, includingthe clothes I had on. I did not understand why then, but learned later.When your courier, Master Preston, was thrust into the dungeon with me,he told me how an Ira Le Geyt, who was serving as a scout for your army,had betrayed him into the rebels' hands. Then I saw through the Schuylerplan, and knew that as long as the son, using my name and wearing myclothes, was at your headquarters, nothing but disaster would befallyou. I tried desperately to escape. I offered bribes to the guards; Iattempted to tunnel out of the fort, but failed. When the new commander,Gates, came, I persuaded him I had been wrongfully confined for weeks,and he ordered my release. I hastened here, too late, I fear, to be ofany service. But in justice to myself, I demand that the man who hasdeprived me of my rights be properly punished."
"Don't fear about that, Master Le Geyt," the officer replied with acruel laugh. "Out of justice to you, and because of injustice to me,this fellow shall be hanged. I only wish I could string the father upbeside the son. In all my military career I never met with, or heard of,so infamous a scheme as they have conceived and carried out. I can see,as you h
ave suggested, that all the disasters have come through thisyoung rascal. I will put him under guard to-night. To-morrow he shall betried and sentenced. Before another twenty-four hours have passed, hewill be executed."
He called out, and a sergeant with four men entered and took theprisoner away.
Within the stout walls of a log hut, which had been turned into atemporary prison, Philip (for now he should be called by his right name)was left to himself. Naturally he could not avoid dwelling upon thehorrible fate that awaited him, for his conviction and execution wereforegone conclusions. Many a man had been sent to the gallows by farless evidence than could be brought against him. In the heart of theBritish camp as he was, he might not look for rescue. There was littlehope of escaping through his own efforts.
He recalled all that he had been able to do, through the place he hadheld in the British camp, for the Cause he loved. The stores atBennington on which Burgoyne depended for the sustenance of his army,had not been secured, and in the attempt to obtain them that officer hadlost a thousand men. The reinforcements he ardently expected from NewYork had not come, and they could not arrive now in time to save him.St. Leger had been frightened away, and with him had gone the last hopeof the British commander for any addition to his forces. With his armyweakened, on short rations, and unable to retreat, he had but onealternative, which was to face a foe that outnumbered him. From thehuman point of view there could be but one outcome, defeat, and withthat defeat all the plans of Lord Germain, the war secretary in London,would be shattered. Philip was satisfied. Remembering all he had helpedto accomplish, he could, if necessary, surrender up his life.
Philip Schuyler was calm when, on the following day, he faced hisaccusers. He did not attempt to deny his identity, or make excuse for asingle act. He did not flinch when he was sentenced to be hangedtwenty-four hours later as a spy. When asked if he had anything to saywhy sentence should not be pronounced upon him, he replied:
"I knew I ran a great risk when I consented to do the work I have done.I am glad I was permitted to do so much. I only regret I could notlonger have escaped detection in order to accomplish more. I shall diehappy because I have surrendered my life for a Cause which I know, andwhich every one of you gentlemen knows, to be holy."
To his surprise he had a visitor during the afternoon. It was old DavidDaggett. After assisting Captain Brant to carry Hiram Le Geyt back tohis home, the old man had again turned his face toward the Hudson tolearn something of his grandson Ira.
Arriving in the camp shortly before noon, he had found the lad, andheard the story of his imprisonment, of the false Ira, and of thelatter's sentence. He rubbed his hands in glee.
"I want to see him!" he cried. "I want to tell the young devil just whatI think of him. I'll stay until to-morrow to see him die."
To humor him, General Burgoyne gave orders that the old man be allowedto visit the condemned lad.
There were other prisoners in the guard-house, and after his sentencethe young scout had been carried to a two-story house used as thebarracks for a company of soldiers. In one of the upper rooms of this hehad been placed in solitary confinement. There was a guard outside thedoor, a company of soldiers below, and sentinels around the building.Every avenue of escape was supposed to be closed, and the younglieutenant awaited the hour of his death.
Here David Daggett came. When allowed to enter the room, he stood for atime gazing at the prisoner, who arose to meet him, while a smile playedon his lips. Without being invited, he sat in the one chair the chambercontained, and still stared at the lad. Then he laughed long and loudly.
"It just tickles me to see you," he at length said.
"What is there about me that pleases you?" Philip asked.
"It makes me laugh to think how you will kick and squirm to-morrow, whenthe rope is put around your neck," was the cruel reply.
That the captive made no reply, seemed to anger him. "If I had my wayyou wouldn't hang!" he cried. "You'd burn! burn! burn! The Indians knowhow to torture their victims, when they kill them at the stake. I wishyou might be scorched to pay for that fellow you saved at Fort Stanwix.He ought to have died, and you ought to burn. Every rebel in the landshould be burned. I'll tell the general to burn you--" and ran from theroom.
But when he went to General Burgoyne with his request, he was told thatthe sentence of the prisoner could not be changed. He brooded over theanswer.
"I'll change it," he muttered, and with a cunning look in his eyes, hewent to the building in which the prisoner was confined, walking aroundit again and again.
The structure had been intended for a shop, with living-rooms above. Atthe rear was a small lean-to, once used as a stable. In this last alarge amount of rubbish had collected. The sharp eyes of the old mantook in all this, and his plan was formed. Late in the night he slippedout of the tent he occupied in company with his grandson, and made hisway to the rear of the barracks.
"The soldiers can get out," he muttered to himself; "but that youngrebel can't. I'll burn him, burn him up!"
Into the shanty, unobserved, he crawled. In the farther corner he pulledsome of the most inflammable material together, and then took out of hispocket his flint and steel. Into the rubbish the tiny sparks fell.Slowly the flame grew. He waited until it was under good headway, andthen slipped away to his tent.
Ten minutes passed, and then the alarm rang through the encampment."Fire! Fire! The barracks are on fire!" some one shouted, and otherstook up the cry.
Ira Le Geyt awoke and called to his grandfather, but the old manapparently slept soundly. Not until having been shaken vigorously did hearouse himself, and then, rubbing his eyes, he asked innocently:
"What is it?"
"Some building is on fire," his grandson explained and ran out.
David Daggett followed in the direction of the blaze his hands hadkindled. The lean-to was gone; one side of the house was a mass offlames, and with an exulting cry on his lips: "The rebel will burn! therebel will burn!" he hastened to join the crowd that had collectedaround the doomed building.