Rodney, the Ranger, with Daniel Morgan on Trail and Battlefield

by John V. Lane

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  NEW VENTURES WITH OLD ACQUAINTANCES

  What is more grateful to a weak, weary mortal on a hot morning than asnug seat under the shade of a tree, stirred by a gentle breeze fromthe river? Rodney Allison could think of nothing, and sank into theseat with a sigh of relief.

  This was his first attempt at walking abroad since his illness, duringwhich the British had left Philadelphia and returned to New York,pursued and harassed by the Americans. That morning Captain Enderwoodhad left him, and, when he had inquired for his bill, he was told thatit had been paid. He had been dimly conscious during his illness ofthe presence of a nurse other than Enderwood, but when he had askedabout it the captain had ignored the question and talked aboutsomething else. Surely he was indebted to some one for his life andlife was very sweet this July morning.

  "When d'ye leave yer grave?"

  "Hello, Zeb! I was thinking about you, and wondering if we'd ever meetagain."

  "An' I was thinkin' the same thing when I got sight o' you an'concluded we wouldn't."

  "Concluded we wouldn't?"

  "Ye see, I 'lowed 'twas only yer ghost I was lookin' at. Ye've eitherhad poor victuals or a poor appetite."

  Rodney had the first hearty laugh he enjoyed for months and replied,"I've been pretty sick and am lucky to have any sort of looks left.But what are you doing in Philadelphia?"

  "I'm hangin' around this town hopin' the schooner Betsy has escapedthe British and will bring my wife."

  "Your wife?"

  "All the result o' my furlough in Boston."

  "So Melicite, of whom Donald Lovell told me so much, consented. Zeb,you're a born conqueror. When you found you couldn't capture Canadayou won a wife."

  "More to my likin' than the whole o' Canada. Now I'm wonderin' how I'mgoin' to support her. A soldier's pay for a month won't buy more'n apinch o' salt, an' salt ain't very fillin' 'thout somethin' to goalong with it."

  "Well, I know where we can get a square meal, though it won't taste asgood as that roast pig down in Jersey. Will you go with me?"

  "Certain sure I'll go. I reckon thar be no good o' my hangin' roundany longer to-day."

  As they walked down Chestnut Street Rodney saw a familiar figureapproaching.

  "Zeb, there comes one of the greatest men in the country, ThomasJefferson. Wonder if he'll remember me."

  He was not left long in doubt. Mr. Jefferson's face was careworn andnoticeably older than when Rodney had last seen him, and the lad wasbut a shadow of his former self, yet the man recognized him the momentthey met.

  "How is my young friend this morning? You've had an illness."

  "I am just up from a fever. Mr. Jefferson, I want you to know myfriend, one of Morgan's Rangers, Mr. Campbell, or Zeb, as we call him.He's been to me almost as good a friend as you."

  "I'm always glad to meet your friends, Rodney. What are you doinghere?"

  "I'm waiting till I get strength enough to go back to Charlottesville.I was taken prisoner and am on parole and I think home is the bestplace for me."

  "Charlottesville is a good place at all times, especially now thatBurgoyne's troops are imprisoned there. I should think you might alsofind it profitable to return, for the prisoners kept there have putmoney in circulation and made work. By the way, I haven't seen yousince you sold your horse to my overseer. I felt badly about thatbecause I knew you didn't let him go without a sacrifice. I will giveyou a letter and when you get back you take it to Monticello and getthe colt. You can pay me at your convenience."

  This was unexpected good fortune, and Rodney felt very grateful. "Iwish I had Nat here. I would start to-morrow," he remarked to Zeb asthey walked on.

  "Thar seems to be no such thing as complete satisfaction in thisworld. Now, if I had a home fer Melicite an' me to go to, well, Ireckon I'd be a little easier in mind."

  "Come to Charlottesville with me. You heard what Mr. Jefferson saidabout business being brisk there. It's only a little village, butwe'll find some way to turn a dollar. You've got to come, unless youcan find something better."

  And so it happened that Rodney and his friend and Melicite, whoarrived in due time, all found their way to Charlottesville, and alsofound home and opportunity.

  Rodney was surprised on his first visit to the quarters of the"Convention troops," as they were called. On Colonel Harvey's estate,about five miles distant from the Court House at Charlottesville,barracks and camps had been erected for the prisoners, who wereconstructing a building to be used as a theatre. Many of them hadvegetable gardens, one officer, it was said, having spent nearly fivehundred dollars for seed to be planted by his men.

  When these prisoners had arrived there the previous winter, after amarch of over seven hundred miles from Massachusetts, the hillside,which now bloomed, was desolate and bleak. But few buildings had beenerected, and about the only provisions obtainable were corn meal andwater. All that had been changed as by magic, and many of the poorfellows had not known such comfort since leaving their homes inEngland, while most of the Hessians were faring better than they everhad done at home.

  It will be recalled that Gates had weakly consented to terms whichallowed Burgoyne's soldiers to be transported to England on conditionthey should not fight against America. He was so eager to secure asurrender, that he evidently did not stop to consider that thesesoldiers could be used in England to replace those stationed there,who in turn could be sent to America. Shrewder men were quick to seethe mistake and to take advantage of any circumstance to prevent it.Such a circumstance was afforded by Burgoyne himself, who, not likingthe quarters assigned to him in Massachusetts, had declared the termsof the surrender had been broken. Moreover, when the Americans wereready to let the troops go on their arrival in Massachusetts, theBritish would not provide transportation, and by the time they wereready the Americans had various pretexts for not complying with theterms of the surrender. The British declared their opponents acted inbad faith. Undoubtedly many Americans believed England would act inbad faith if she could get the troops back.

  Zeb's attitude on this question was that of many Americans. "I don'tcare to argue the matter," he said. "I can if necessary; the argymentsbeen't all on one side."

  Zeb would always be lame from his wound, in fact this had forced himto leave the army. "The Rangers aren't what they were," he toldRodney, "since Morgan was given another command. He was the king pin.He had a way o' seein' the Rangers got what belonged to 'em. They knewit, an' thar was nothin' they wouldn't do for him. I mind one day hewas ridin' past whar some o' the men were at work clearin' a road. Twoof 'em were tryin' to roll out a big rock an' a little squirt of asergeant was bossin'. 'Why don't ye help the men?' Morgan shouted athim. 'I'm an officer, sir,' says the sergeant. 'Oh yes,' says Morgan.'I didn't think o' that,' an' he jumped off his horse an' helped themen roll out the rock."

  Rodney's work that fall often required him to visit the prisoners'encampment. One day, as he was passing a cabin, he heard some one callin a faint voice for help. He rushed in and found a man lying on thefloor. He helped the man to his bed and as he did so saw that he wasnone other than his old acquaintance, the "Chevalier."

  While Allison did not feel so bitter against this man as formerly, forthe reason that his recent experiences had brought him knowledge ofbigger rascals than he had ever supposed this man to be, yet hisfeelings were far from being friendly. He nevertheless ran for thecamp doctor and waited until he had declared the man out of danger forthe present. Rodney heard his advice to the patient, that he keep veryquiet and free from excitement, as otherwise his next attack mightprove fatal.

  Rodney turned back into the cabin to ask if there were anything hemight do, and the look in the face of the "Chevalier" startled thelad. It quickly passed, however, and the man quietly said: "Why, thisis Rodney Allison, who saved my miserable existence out on theScioto."

  "Not much of an exploit to be remembered by. You'd have shot him if Ihadn't."

  "Why, you shot the redskin in the heel and, i
f I correctly recall mymythology, Paris required the assistance of the god, Apollo, before hewas able to hit Achilles in a like spot."

  "He only had a bow and arrow while I had one of the finest rifles inthe country."

  "Anyhow, it was an act worthy of a better return, as you no doubtconcluded later."

  This allusion to the gaming incident annoyed Rodney. He thought theleast the fellow might do was to make no mention of that rascallyaffair.

  "If I don't refer to that matter I see no reason for you to do so. Oflate I've been associated with men who think that, after you've rolleda man in the dirt, it isn't necessary to rub it in."

  The "Chevalier" whistled and then smilingly quoted:

  "'The duke, he drew out half his sword-- The guard drew out the rest.'"

  "Can I do any more for you, sir?" Rodney spoke impatiently.

  "You might tell me how are the mother and the little sister and aboutthe home you feared the miser would get. You see I have a good memoryfor some things."

  "They are well. They yet have the home, though I did my best tosacrifice it. If there's nothing I may do I will be going."

  "You are kind, and I wish you would call again. I expected you wouldbe in the army. As I remember, you were a lusty young rebel when Iknew you."

  "I served with Colonel Morgan's Rangers at the capture of Burgoyne."

  It must be admitted there was a touch of malice in these words and thetone in which the lad spoke them.

  "So I'm still further indebted to you. Well, as you are responsiblefor my being here, I hope you will feel under obligations to callagain when I am better able to entertain company. By the way, did youever know a man by the name of David Cameron? Why I ask is because youresemble a man by that name, whom I once knew."

  "That was my father's name," replied Rodney, and the next instant hecould have bitten his tongue. He quickly added: "My father, aftercoming to this country, had good reasons for taking the name of hismother's people, the Allisons, not that he had any occasion to beashamed of the name of Cameron. Now that he is dead we shall retainthe name of Allison."

  "As I remember your father, he had no occasion to be ashamed ofanything, except, possibly, some of his acquaintances. So David isdead."

  "My father was a man who kept good company to the day of his death."

  "He was a very kind-hearted man, and such cannot always keep what youterm 'good company.' May I ask you to send here some worthy lawyer ortrustworthy justice of the peace? I have some transactions which Iwish to discuss with such a person. You, being the son of your father,I know will do that for me."

  "Where and when did you know my father?"

  "More than twenty years ago in London. When did he die, Rodney?"

  "He was killed at the battle of Point Pleasant at the time we were outin the Ohio country."

  "Four years ago. Do you come often to the camp?"

  "Frequently."

  "Will it be asking too much for you to look in on me, as they say?"

  "I will do as you wish."

  As Rodney rode away he thought much upon the strange man he had left.Evidently he was one whom his father had befriended. And the rascalhad tried to rob his benefactor's son. Probably, what with the illnessand all, the fellow's conscience twinged a little. Anyhow, he shouldhave the lawyer though it were better he should have the clergyman,thought the lad.

  That night Rodney found it difficult to put thoughts of the sick manout of his mind and, when a few days later he again had occasion tovisit the camp, he took along with him some delicacies which hethought might tempt the patient's appetite.

  "So you didn't forget me. What's this? Something besides camp fare?Oh, yes, you are David Cameron's son, but you've got a life work aheadif you live up to his standard."

  "I believe you, sir."

  "Would you be willing to send this letter? I suppose it will reachPhiladelphia in a few days. By the way, did your father come toCharlottesville from London?"

  "No. He lived nearly eighteen years down in Prince William County. Hewas employed there much of the time by Squire Danesford."

  "Danesford! Did he have a daughter about your own age?"

  "Yes. Lisbeth. She was in Philadelphia the last I knew of her. I heardthe other day that the state had seized their estate. Danesford is abitter Tory, you know."

  "Danesford died a poor man in London last April. His daughter, Iunderstand, died about three months later. At least the person to whomthat letter is addressed wrote me she couldn't live."

  "Are--are you sure? I didn't even know she was sick."

  The man looked keenly at his caller. "I have no reason to doubt thereport. It was said she took her father's death very much to heart,and, what with not being well,--she had nursed a friend, I think,--shewas taken down with a fever. You must have known her?

  "Why, she was my playmate. I--I can't realize she's dead." Thenhurriedly saying good-bye he went away, seeing little and thinkingmuch, and the "Chevalier" lay looking at the blank wall.

  On arriving home Rodney went directly to his room. He shrank fromtelling the news to his mother. He must first think it over. The girlin the red cloak who had stamped her foot and called him a simpleton,ah, she was the one he missed, and not her who had laughed in his facethat winter night and wheedled him as she laughed.

  Mrs. Allison was greatly shocked. Rodney had been ashamed to tell hismother of the time Lisbeth had tricked him, and now it somehow seemeddisloyal to the girl to speak of it. Well, he would forget it, and soresolving he worked as never before. There was work to do, both forhimself and Zeb; moreover, it was profitable.

  When he next had occasion to visit the encampment he called on the"Chevalier" as soon as he arrived. All the way to the camp thequestion had been in his mind: How did it happen that the man knew theDanesfords, spoke of them as persons with whom he was quite familiar?He met Angus, who said, "Ridin' back along soon?" and, on being told,replied, "I reckon I'll wait fer ye."

  Rodney found the "Chevalier" unusually bright and nimble of wit. "Isuppose, Allison, you think the war is over with the surrender ofBurgoyne? Most of your people lose no opportunity to express thatopinion. I notice, however, that the British army marches about thecountry pretty much as it pleases. Why, my lad, the war is justbegun."

  "Certainly it's a good beginning," was the lad's rather dry response.

  The "Chevalier" appreciated it. There was a twinkle in his eyes. Itwas evident he liked to draw Rodney out. He said: "What would youpeople do if by some accident, for you can never hope to win unlesssome other powerful nation helps you, what would you do if you shouldwin? All the colonies would be by the ears in less than a year."

  "Perhaps you never heard what 'Sam' Adams told the Quakers who saidthey wished to obey such government as the Lord placed over them."

  "What did he say?"

  "He told them the Lord was providing a government."

  "Don't you think this so-called government, where Congress may onlyhumbly ask the several colonies, each to do its part, a pretty poorsort of government to lay at the Lord's door? Why, once these coloniesget clear of England, they'll fight among themselves. But, even ifthey didn't, the country would have a patchwork of little pettygovernments and nothing in common to make them strong."

  "Do you remember what Gadsden said at New York at the meeting held inprotest against the Stamp Act?"

  "No; what was it?"

  "He said: 'There ought to be no New England man, no New Yorker knownon the continent; but all of us, Americans.' I well remember fatherspeaking of that. There was a queer codger who joined the Rangers. Themen, because of his long legs, named him 'Lopin' Luther,' and he oncesaid: 'We're fightin' fer free Englishmen as well as Americans, onlythe darn fools don't know it.'"

  "You mean, or rather he meant, the principle involved. But, from whatI have learned, the more of what the people term freedom they have,the more they want."

  "And why not? Whoever called you the 'Cavalier,' evidently knew w
hy hedid so."

  The man's face became grave. He said: "I am not worthy of the name. Ihave great respect for those who were known as Cavaliers. Some of yourbest blood in the Old Dominion descended from them. I believe it isn'tso much what people have as the way they use it. I've seen those whowere getting along finely until something more was added to them, thenmake a failure of it. Take your hero, Morgan; what did he have but hisown courage and brains and powerful body? He's made the most of whathe had. Had he been born a duke he might not have done so well."

  "Could he have done what he has in your country, where your dukes areborn with the privilege of lording it over the Morgans?"

  "Rodney, you argue well. Where did you learn? I forget your father.You are indeed his son. Must you go? Well, here is a packet, of whichI wish you to take charge. When you learn that I am dead, and thedoctor tells me my heart is about worn out, you are to open the packetand I am sure will do right with what you find there."

  Rodney hesitated, and the man, noticing his hesitation, said, "Youwill not regret it. You believe me, don't you?"

  Looking into the face of the man, Rodney had it not in his heart tosay no. Somehow, and he was almost ashamed to admit it to himself, hedid believe. This man, who, under the guise of friendliness, once hadrobbed him, this gambler, literally compelled his liking.

  When Allison had finished the business for which he had come, and wasabout to leave, he noticed the camp doctor hurrying to the Chevalier'scabin. With fear in his heart he followed. The fear was realized. Theman who had been known to him as the "Chevalier" was dead. Rodneyhelped prepare the body. He had performed similar services for friendswho had died in camp. It was not a duty from which he would flinch.Yet he started back, his face was pale. The doctor noticed theagitation and sought the cause. Young Allison was staring at tattoomarks on the right arm of the body. These represented a closed handgripping a sword. Rodney had seen the exact counterpart of that on theright arm of little Louis, who had told him, "Papa put it there!"