Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire

by P. N. Elrod

  What if Nathan had been here instead, and I’d learned the truth, learned from his own lips, that he had been the shooter? My murderer. He wasn’t as likeable as Roddy, and certainly guilty. But though he’d killed me, I wasn’t dead.

  “Jonathan?” Roddy was giving me a strange look. “What are you laughin’ about? Nothin’ funny ’ere.”

  Eventually I hiccupped my fit of misplaced mirth to a halt and took stock. Before me were two dead men. Neither of them would return from the grave. One innocent of murder at least, the other carrying out what he thought to be his duty. How could I leave them to be hanged?

  That question spun through my mind, followed by the unavoidable answer that I couldn’t.

  “There’s been enough death. . .” I began, wiping my eyes.

  “Eh?”

  “Roddy, if I get you out of here, can you find a way off the island?”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “If you escape you’ll have to get as far from here as you can. That means not going home or even to Suffolk County, home will be the first place they’ll look.”

  “I don’t see as how it can be done, but Ezra here said as he knew where we could lay hands on a boat and row across to Connecticut to join up with his regiment. Nate was to do that if we got separated.”

  “Where’s this boat?”

  “Five miles, maybe less from here.”

  “Think you can make it there before light?”

  “Easy. But how can—”

  “Never mind how. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Wake up your friend and tell him to keep his mouth shut when I come.”

  I left the candle with them and, bending low, made my way back to the ladder. Nash had gone but the guard was still at his station as I emerged.

  “All is well?” he asked.

  “Ja. Are you sleepy?” I added in English. I couldn’t recall the right words in German.

  “Was?”

  “Sleepy?” I pantomimed a yawn, lay my head to one side with my eyes shut for a moment, then pointed questioningly at him. He grinned and shook his head.

  The idiot.

  “What is the German for. . . ?” I repeated my pantomime.

  Puzzled that I should want a language lesson, but flattered by my interest, he promptly supplied me with the weapon I sought.

  “Schlafen.”

  “Ja, schlafen, mein Freund. Schlafen. Schlafen. . . “

  I caught him as he dropped forward, not an easy task with only one arm. A dead weight and unwieldy, I managed to lay him out without making too much row. His long rifle and sword caused a little clatter, but there were stout doors between us and the rest of the inn. I had to hurry, for Nash might return or someone else could blunder in and disturb me while I clawed through the man’s pockets. Snuffbox, a few coins—where did the fool keep it?

  There. A ring heavy with keys. I grabbed it and dived down the ladder. Andrews was awake and looking belligerent.

  “What d’ye plan for us? That we should be shot while escaping? Is that what yer up to?”

  “Don’t be such a fool, Mr. Andrews—”

  “That’s Lieutenant to you, ye lyin’ Tory.”

  “Lieutenant fool, then.” I sorted through the keys, trying to find the right one to fit the locks on their chains. “Think what you like, but keep your mouth shut. If you get caught again, then we’re all for the gallows, and I’ve no wish to hang for the likes of you.”

  “He’s tryin’ to help us, Ezra,” put in Roddy. As if to confirm his statement the next key worked and his hand was free. I gave him the ring and told him to finish the job while I kept watch.

  The guard was as I’d left him, safe for us, but highly noticeable should anyone come in. My stomach turned over and over. If we were caught now—it still wasn’t too late to put things back—it was too much to hope to get Roddy and Andrews away . . . there were too many soldiers about.

  Turn and turn again.

  Roddy’s head appeared above the trap’s opening. He looked feverish with his sweat-smeared face and frightened, overly-bright eyes. He goggled at the sleeping soldier, but sensibly nodded when I put a finger to my lips. He crept out and made room for Andrews.

  “Keys?” I whispered.

  “I left ’em down there,” he said unhappily

  Oh, well, I’d have to go back for the candle, anyway. “Through there,” I said, pointing to a passage behind them. “It should take you outside and as you value your lives don’t make a sound and don’t be seen.”

  By now it had finally penetrated Andrews’s hard skull that I’d had either a change of heart or of loyalties. He grabbed Roddy’s arm and they were gone.

  Stomach still spinning, I made one more trip down the ladder, painfully jarring my arm when my footing slipped on the last rung. I bit back a grunt and kept moving, retrieving the keys and candle from where they lay on the earthen floor. When discovered, the abandoned chains would be a considerable mystery to Nash.

  A final clumsy climb up and I stuffed the keys back in the guard’s pocket with trembling fingers. Looking at his guilelessly peaceful face, I realized I couldn’t leave him like this. Any hint of irregularity and the first course of action would be to check on the prisoners. They needed time to get away, and I needed to put distance between myself and my crime.

  Good arm under his shoulders, I heaved the man to his feet, shaking him. The activity brought him awake and left him somewhat confused. Giving him what I hoped would seem a smile of friendly concern, I helped him pull himself together, dusting his clothes and hoping to confound him more with swift, incomprehensible speech.

  “Dear me, but I thought you might have hurt yourself, everything all right now? Bumped our heads together, don’t you know, when I’m came up, you went down, and bang! There you are, but accidents do happen. All’s well now, eh, what?”

  “Was?”

  “Ah . . . der Kopf. . . “ I tapped first my forehead, then his, and said “Ow!” while giving an indication that he’d fallen. For all my acting, I received a deservedly strange look from him, which I pretended not to notice. He picked up his firearm, straightened his sword and scabbard, and tried to resume a dignified attitude. I indicated that he should close the trap and shoot the bolt.

  “I’ll just be off to see Lieutenant Nash. Vielen Danke und gute Nacht.”

  The mention of Nash’s name reminded him that I had some kind of special status. I gave him a couple of pennies for his trouble and left. Now, if he’d just leave his charges undisturbed for a while. A pity I didn’t know much of the language or I could have arranged something more to my advantage. On the way back, I vowed to take some positive steps toward enlarging my German vocabulary before another week had passed.

  Nash welcomed me and asked if my interview had gone well.

  “Very well, indeed, sir. I am most grateful for your kindness. Just wanted to see the wretch one more time and to ask if you would be so good as to find a use for this.” I produced a small purse and lay it on the table between us.

  He pretended surprise. “But what is this, Mr. Barrett?”

  “Let’s just call it a contribution toward His Majesty’s victory. I’m sure that you can find some way to make life a bit easier for your soldiers.”

  Peering into it, Nash looked quite gratified. He must have been worried that the bribe I’d promised would be unduly delayed. It was my own and not Father’s money, though, a fraction of what I’d managed to bring back from England. He’d written that good coin was becoming rare and the paper money in circulation was hardly more than a grim joke. It seemed to me that a ready supply of silver and gold would be a handy thing to have around and so it was now proved.

  Nash gave warm thanks for my generosity and offered to stand me to the best the house could offer in the way of drink. He could well afford it, but I politely declined.

&
nbsp; “I must head home before it gets too late . . . ”

  Someone began pounding on the door. “Herr Oberleutnant!” Oh, good God.

  But the man who rushed in was not the guard I’d left; however, his news was just as calamitous. Some eagle-eyed sentry had spotted two men haring out of town, recognized them as the prisoners, and given the alarm.

  “How the devil did they escape? You don’t know? Then find out! Never a moment’s peace,” Nash complained. “I’d ask you to come, sir, as you might enjoy another hunt, but with your arm. . . .”

  Feeling that my face might crack under the strain of looking calm and brightly interested, I waved down his objections. “But I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Lieutenant. I would be singularly honored if you allowed me to render such limited service as I might be capable of offering.”

  “Well, you do know the land, and I was highly impressed with the sharpness of your vision the other night. One of the men said that you’d be like to find a black cat in a root cellar.”

  I laughed deprecatingly, wishing to high heaven that he’d not mentioned cellars.

  * * *

  “Lauder reports that he believes they are only just ahead of us, sir,” said Nash’s sergeant.

  “He believes?” Nash sneered. “Go back and inform him that I am not interested in what he believes but what he knows.” The sergeant whipped off.

  Nash had been optimistic when we’d started the expedition but as the night grew old and he and the men more tired, his high spirits had taken a sharp turn in the other direction. His faith in my ability to see well in the dark had also suffered a decided setback. At the first opportunity, I’d done what I could to lead them in the wrong direction, but it hadn’t been very successful, largely due to the tracking efforts of one Hessian corporal.

  The man must have been part hunting hound, and indeed, some few of the hapless serfs sold by their greedy princes into the service of King George were Jägers in their homelands. They went for double the price of regular soldiers because of their hunting and shooting skills. If his majesty’s generals here matched a few thousand such men to the new Ferguson rifles—while in England I’d seen one of the newest of those beauties demonstrated—they would make short work of the Congress’s rabble and possibly end this wretched rebellion before winter.

  For now, though, this specimen from Hessen-Kassel or Württemberg or wherever was a damned inconvenience to my objective. Each time I managed to take a misleading course, he invariably brought us back on the right trail again. I was forced to hold myself in check, lest Nash become suspicious.

  We moved after the sergeant, Nash on his horse, I on Belle, and a dozen soldiers at our backs doing their best to keep up over the uneven ground. Some carried lanterns like the two fellows trotting before us and the lot of them made enough noise to wake all this half of the island. Whenever we passed a house, the shutters would either open with curiosity or close in fear, depending on the boldness of its residents. If anyone deigned to call out a question, Nash’s answer was that we were on the king’s business and not to hinder us. No one did.

  I stood up in the stirrups to get a look at things. Half a mile ahead was Lauder and his party, which included the German corporal. The sergeant was almost to them, bearing Nash’s impatient message. Another half-mile beyond, I made out two struggling figures against the clean background of an empty field. Had it been full daylight, Lauder would have been upon them in short order.

  Couldn’t those fools move any faster? One of them seemed spry enough, but the other was having trouble of some sort, limping, perhaps. Damnation, at this rate they would be caught.

  “See anything?” Nash asked hopefully

  I started to say no and changed it at the last second. “I’m not sure. I think I shall ride ahead with the advance party.”

  “It could be dangerous, Mr. Barrett.

  “I doubt that; the prisoners are unarmed, after all.” Before he could oppose it, I put my heels into Belle’s sides, and she obediently shot forward at a fast canter. Oh, how that shook and tore at my arm. I clamped my jaw shut and concentrated on getting to my goal. We passed the sergeant without a word and I reined in Belle at the last second. A canter was bad enough, but the change in gait from it to a walk required some trotting in between and I wanted to keep that to a minimum and thus spare my arm.

  “Any luck, Sergeant Lauder?” I asked. I brought Belle to a full stop across their path, causing Lauder’s party to halt as well. Anything to give Roddy and Andrews a little more of a lead.

  “The tracks are very fresh,” he replied. His manner was polite, but cool, as he hadn’t forgotten our fight in front of The Oak earlier that week. I was relieved to note that he was walking normally again, though. His Jäger corporal, who had a lantern, pointed at the ground where some grass had been crushed and spoke in German. “We will soon have them,” Lauder translated.

  “You’re sure? It doesn’t look like much to me.”

  The corporal picked up on my disparaging tone and made a vigorous argument to the contrary.

  “He says that they are here.”

  I obstinately continued with my pose of disbelief. “Perhaps, though I don’t know how you can sort anything sensible out of that muddle.”

  Just as stubborn, Lauder repeated his previous statement and made indications that he would like to proceed. Just then, Nash’s sergeant caught up and delivered his caustic message. Lauder maintained a phlegmatic face, but we could tell he was hardly amused at this questioning of his efficiency. He vented it upon the corporal and ordered him to proceed as speedily as possible.

  I looked past them toward Roddy and Andrews. They seemed to be going slower than ever. Their three days of confinement in the cellar must have taken the strength out of them. They’d never make it.

  “Sergeant Lauder, I shall run ahead and see if I can’t properly spot ’em. You go on with what you’re doing.”

  I gave Belle another kick and—quite stupidly from their point of view—charged over the tracks the corporal was trying so diligently to follow. About fifty yards on, I veered off to the left so I was riding parallel to the trail.

  Roddy was the one limping; Andrews supported him, but they hadn’t a hope of breaking away at this pace. I drew up even with them, but some twenty yards to their left, and gave a soft hail.

  “Roddy, it’s me. I’ve come to help.”

  “More like to lead ’em to us,” said the ever-mistrustful Andrews.

  “Please be so good as to keep your voice down, Lieutenant, or we’ll all be chained in the cellar.”

  “What do ye want, then?” he demanded in a gruff, but somewhat softer tone.

  “The Hessians are catching you up.”

  “Tell us something we don’t know. Of course they’re comin’.”

  “Good, then you know you’ll need to go faster.”

  “Aren’t we doin’ the best we can? The poor lad half twisted his ankle off gettin’ away.”

  “I’m ready to loan you my horse, but we’ll have to be careful—”

  “Then bring ’im over here an’ we’ll get the lad—”

  “Do that and a certain tracker back there will read the signs we leave like a book. There’s a stony patch not far ahead. You’ll have to make it that far first.”

  Andrews was for wasting time by asking more questions. I moved past and guided Belle down a slight slope to a wide place between the fields where the earth had been scraped away by an ancient and long departed glacier. That’s what Rapelji had taught us, anyway, when he’d led our class out here to study geological oddities. I never thought then that his science lesson would have ever proved to be of any practical use to me in life. Blessings to the man for his thoroughness in pounding such diverse knowledge into our heads.

  Roddy and Andrews finally caught up with me. I dismounted from Belle and took her over to th
em. They’d both need to ride her, but Andrews insisted he could do well enough on foot.

  “As long as the hoss is carryin’ ’im an’ not me, I’ll be quick enough.”

  “Yes, and leaving your tracks as well. When we go I want that man to find only mine and Belle’s, yours are to disappear completely.”

  The dawn finally broke for him. “Oh, I see what yer about. That’s good brain-work, young fella.”

  “If my brain were properly working, I wouldn’t be out here. Get Roddy into the saddle and shift yourself up behind him. I’ll lead the horse.”

  “Thank you, Jonathan,” Roddy gasped.

  “Later,” I said. “When we know you’re safe.”

  Both of them mounted. I took hold of the reins and led Belle away from the spot, resuming the path I’d been on earlier. Hopefully, the corporal would interpret things to mean that I was afoot for some reason other than the real one. If questioned later, I could always say that I’d wanted to give the horse a rest.

  The boat that Andrews had been making for was still a mile ahead. Roddy’s mere five-mile jaunt had been almost half again the distance because of the character of the land and their need to avoid the soldiers. They made better time now, but our speed was still limited to a walk. On the other hand, we knew where we were going and the Hessian tracker did not.

  Before long I heard the measured rush of sea waves carried on the fresh wind. Following Andrews’s directions, we slipped quietly by some farmhouses, rousing only a barking dog or two along the way. I didn’t care much for that row, but there were worse dangers waiting for us.

  Nash had boasted that you couldn’t toss a rock into a field without striking one of His Majesty’s soldiers, and now as we passed an old abandoned church I spied several of them walking over its grounds toward us. The church was occupied, after all, quartered with British troops. One of the men saw our figures moving against the general darkness, correctly assumed that we were up to no good, and gave a loud challenge.

  I flipped the reins over Belle’s head and pressed them into Roddy’s hands. “Ride like the devil. I’ll lead them off!”