The Boy Spies of Philadelphia

by Joanna H. Mathews

  CHAPTER XII.

  IMPORTANT INFORMATION.

  The suggestion of the unknown speaker that it would be impossible forhim to make his way toward the American lines without detection was byno means comforting to Enoch.

  It was a situation, however, which he had anticipated, for heunderstood that the English would make every exertion to capturethe messenger who had carried information to General Lafayette, andthereby, perhaps, saved him from capture.

  In addition Enoch knew that the Tories would be most eager in theirpresent mood to make him prisoner, for now that it seemed certainthe city was to be evacuated, those who had been living a life ofease and comparative plenty because of their loyalty to the king feltparticularly irritated against the Americans, who it was believed wouldso soon change very decidedly this satisfactory condition of affairs.

  Enoch wondered not a little who the speakers were, and why they hadchanced to halt directly outside his hiding-place.

  From what he had heard he believed they were members of the army,and it seemed strange they should have strayed down to the riverbank, until the apparent mystery was solved when one of them saidimpatiently:

  "At what hour did you understand that Lord Howe would send the boat forus?"

  "Eight o'clock."

  "And this was the landing-place he appointed, was it not?"

  "The messenger said the boat would be put in near-by a sloop which washauled up on the shore, and unless I am mistaken this is the only craftof the kind in the vicinity."

  "I wish we might have been able to take to Lord Howe the informationthat the young rebel was apprehended, for I really believe he has notrecovered from the chagrin of having ordered the frigate to be madeready with all dispatch to carry the Marquis de Lafayette a prisoner toEngland when he had captured him."

  "He will have the pleasure of hearing such news before midnight, as tothat there can be no doubt. You said you had a copy of the order whichis to be issued on the sixteenth?"

  "Yes, I saw the rough draft on Sir Henry's desk, and asked permissionto make a copy for personal use. It may be the last order issued in therebel capital, and I thought might at some time prove a curiosity."

  "Can you give me the substance of it without violating any confidence?"

  "I think so. I was only enjoined to keep it a profound secret from thecivilians. It may be that it is yet sufficiently light for me to readit."

  Then ensued a brief silence, during which Enoch's heart beat atriumphant tattoo, for he realized that now, when a moment previousit had seemed as if all his opportunities for gaining information werelost, he was about to learn that which General Washington was so eagerto know.

  The fugitive crouched yet nearer the deck-planking as Lord Howe'sintended guest read slowly:

  HEADQUARTERS, PHILADELPHIA, June 16, 1778.

  "Lieutenant-General Knyphausen and Major-General Grant will cross the river to-morrow at four o'clock in the morning with the following regiments: Yagers, mounted and dismounted, Queen's Rangers, Hessian Grenadiers, Second Battalion New Jersey Volunteers,[C] Maryland Loyalists, Volunteers of Ireland, and the Caledonian Volunteers. All wagons and carts, with the wagons and bathorses[D] belonging to the general and staff officers, are to be embarked this afternoon at half-past three, at the upper coal wharf, and to-morrow at six all the saddle horses belonging to the general and staff officers are to be embarked at the same place, except two for the commander-in-chief, and one for each of the general officers. All the sick that are absolutely unable to march are to be at Primrose's Wharf to-morrow morning at five o'clock, where they will be received on board the Active."

  "I fancied we would go around by water," Enoch heard one of the men sayafter the order had been read; "but according to that it is evident weshall march across New Jersey."

  "I believe that was Sir Henry's first intention; but fearing head windsmight lengthen the passage, and that the rebel Washington would have anopportunity to capture New York, he has decided no such risks should betaken. For my part I am not unwilling to exchange this life of idlenessfor one of action, and hope we may see plenty of it."

  "It appears quite evident your wish will be granted, for it is reportedthe rebels are in good condition for the summer campaign, and from thefact that they have so insolently rejected his majesty's proffers ofpeace I argue they are much stronger in numbers than ever before."

  "However that may be, I care not; we shall soon whip out theoverweening confidence in their own abilities, and before this campaignis ended I predict Congress will be suing for that which it has sopromptly refused. Here comes a boat, and, if I mistake not, we shalllearn considerably more of Sir Henry's intentions this evening than wealready know."

  The sound of footsteps on the sand told that the officers were movingtoward the water's edge, and, shortly after, Enoch could distinguishthe click of oars in the rowlocks.

  Then came the short, quick orders of the coxswain in charge of thecraft, and five minutes later a profound silence reigned.

  The one thought now in Enoch's mind was, that he had learned that whichit was of the utmost importance General Washington should know.

  For the moment he forgot that armed men were searching for him inevery direction, and that his capture was almost certain to be followedimmediately by an ignominious death.

  He had accomplished the mission with which he and Greene wereintrusted, and it only remained to carry the information toheadquarters.

  With this thought came once more the realization of his utterhelplessness and desperate situation.

  It was possible he might remain undiscovered in his hiding-place untilsunrise; but no longer, for then the laborers would resume work uponthe sloop, and must unquestionably soon discover there was more in thehold than they had left there the night previous.

  "It is more than my own life now that I am working for," the boy saidto himself. "By repeating what I have heard General Washington willhave a chance to strike a blow at the Britishers, and I shall indeedhave been of service to the cause. That order is to be issued on thesixteenth, and the enemy will begin to leave on the seventeenth. Thereis plenty of time in which to carry the news, if I can succeed infinding Greene."

  Fully alive to the importance of what he had learned, Enoch was nowprepared to take greater risks than when it was only a question ofsaving his own life.

  The personal danger appeared to have been lessened, and the one idea inhis mind was to make known without unnecessary delay that which he hadlearned.

  No sound broke the stillness of the night as the boy clambered up fromhis damp hiding-place until he could peer out through the hatchway.

  The darkness shrouded everything, and as if the elements were insympathy with his purpose, heavy clouds obscured even the light of thestars.

  "I couldn't have a better chance, and if I don't get past the guardswhich have been set it will be because I am stupid," Enoch thoughtas he drew himself up to the combing of the hatchway and droppednoiselessly down on the sand beneath.

  Here he stood motionless an instant to listen.

  In the distance could be heard the noises of the city, but close athand appeared to be no living thing save himself.

  Following up the bank of the river to the creek, and then into ThirdStreet, he went cautiously, ready at any moment to break into a run, orretreat as should be necessary.

  To venture upon the street did not seem prudent, therefore he swam theupper end of the creek, and made his way by a zigzag course, avoidingthe thoroughfares to traverse gardens and lawns, but all the whilecontinuing on in as nearly a direct course as was consistent withsafety toward the farmhouse where he believed Greene would be found.

  More than once he heard the tramp of the patrol, and at such timeshe doubled here and there, moving cautiously as an Indian, and on thealert for the first sounds which should proclaim he was discovered.

  An hour previous it had seemed impossible to him he could escapee
ven the ordinary number of guards; but now when he knew they hadbeen doubled, perhaps trebled, he instinctively--almost as if bychance--avoided them, until he was beyond the city and on the road overwhich Greene traveled when he brought his produce into the market.

  Even now he knew he was far from safe, for squads of soldiers oftenpatrolled the country roads at a distance of four or five miles fromthe town at a late hour in the night, and he fully believed that onthis occasion scouting parties would be sent in every direction.

  Had he heard the orders given, however, he would have known that theonly precaution taken to prevent his escape was to double the numberof guards around the town, and that those who were searching for himbelieved he was yet hidden in some building near the City Tavern.Consequently a rigorous search was being instituted in that quarter,while he was lessening each moment the distance between himself and theAmerican camp.

  Even when he was so far out in the country that the lights of the citycould no longer be seen, he was afraid to travel at his utmost speedlest he should inadvertently come upon the patrol; but stopped at shortintervals to listen.

  Two hours passed, and during all this time he had continued steadilyonward, without having heard anything to arouse his fears.

  "Who would have believed I could have given them the slip so readily,"he said to himself. "I thought when I jumped on board the sloop that Ishould only leave there as a prisoner, and perhaps if that order hadn'tbeen read where I could hear it, I'd still be crouching in the holdwaiting for the redcoats to pounce upon me. What a fool I was to so farforget myself as to brush up against that Quaker! Even if they hadn'tsuspected me of being a spy, I stood a chance of getting a flogging formy impudence. Yet suppose I hadn't been discovered? Then I shouldn'tknow the exact date set down for the evacuation of the city. Everythinghas happened in my favor, and----"

  He ceased speaking very suddenly, for in the distance he could hearthe sound of footsteps, and waiting only long enough to assure himselfthere had been no mistake, Enoch darted into the bushes that lined theroad on either side at this point.

  Then came the thought that it was nearly time for Greene to go intotown, and pressing as closely to the edge of the road as was possiblewithout showing himself, the boy waited until the pedestrian shouldappear.

  After a short time he saw a single figure approaching with a burdenupon his back; but the night was so dark that Enoch was unable todetermine whether this was the man whom he hoped to meet or some enemy.

  He hesitated to make himself known until he realized that if the spyshould pass him he might have difficulty in carrying his news to ValleyForge, and, regardless of possible danger, cried softly:

  "Robert Greene!"

  The figure halted, looked around for a moment, and then was apparentlyabout to resume the journey when Enoch asked in a low tone:

  "Is that you, Mr. Greene?"

  "I know no one of that name, and if it was mine wouldn't be willing toown it to one who is afraid to show himself."

  Enoch recognized the voice, and springing forward with an exclamationof joy literally hugged the vegetable-laden spy.

  "Is it you, Enoch?" Greene asked in surprise. "What has happened? Haveyou been in danger?"

  "I was discovered by a Quaker at whose house General Lafayette lodgedat Barren Hill, and seized by him and a British officer in front of theCity Tavern."

  "But how did you escape?"

  "Come with me into the bushes, for I am afraid men will be sent out onthis road, since you told the patrol I was in your employ."

  When the two were screened from view of any who might chance to pass,Enoch told his story in all its details, interrupted only by lowchuckles of satisfaction now and then, and exclamations of pleasurablesurprise when the more important portions of his adventures wererelated.

  "You have done a good work this night, lad! A brave work, and yourseeming misfortunes were the luckiest that ever befell man or boy. Iwas not mistaken in you, lad."

  "But I haven't done anything, Mr. Greene. It was all an accident, andone that came very near costing my life."

  "Never mind how it came about. The work has been done, and we can carryto Valley Forge such news as has long been waited for--news that willchange the condition of affairs there very decidedly."

  As he spoke Greene sprang to his feet, and seizing Enoch by the armwent hurriedly into the road.

  "Are you going to leave your market-truck?" Enoch asked.

  "I would willingly leave everything on Rogers' farm to the mercy ofthe Britishers after such word had been brought, my boy. Now step outat your liveliest pace until we can get the horses, and then it is aquestion of a quick ride to headquarters to announce the fact that ourwork has been finished in the completest manner."

  "But isn't it dangerous to go ahead too boldly? There may be soldiersbetween here and the farm."

  "I will answer for it there are none, lad, for haven't I just traveledover this road? It is seldom they come out so far unless in goodlyforce."

  "I thought perhaps scouts might be sent in every direction, for the twomen whom I heard talking while I was in the sloop seemed very certainI'd be captured."

  "They are most likely looking for you in the city yet, and a raretime they'll have of it. I would have been willing to give a goodmany shillings if I could have seen the old Quaker's face when youbowled him over. So he must have been the one who warned Howe ofGeneral Lafayette's advance? We'll settle matters with him afterthe evacuation, and there are one or two other Quakers who should beattended to, particularly he who would have made prisoners of GeneralsReed and Cadwalader."

  "I have never heard of him."

  "Then I will tell you the story, and it isn't a bad one, seeingthat it didn't turn out to our disadvantage. The two generals werereconnoitering the country, and stopped at the house of a Quaker withwhom they were acquainted. I don't remember his name. After leavinghim, and it may be certain he protested that he dearly loved thecause, it began to rain, and Cadwalader and Reed, fearing lest theirblue cloaks should be injured by the water, turned them inside out.Now it so chanced that these same cloaks were lined with red, and asthey returned past the house they had just visited, in the gloom ofthe evening it was not unnatural that they should have been mistakenfor English officers. That is exactly the mistake the Quaker made,and he rushed out quickly, shouting: 'Gentlemen, gentlemen, if youwill only turn back, you will certainly catch General Reed and GeneralCadwalader, who have just gone down this road.' I'll lay guineasto pence that he could have bitten his tongue when the two officersmade themselves known. And what a wigging they gave him! General Reedpromised that when the proper time came he would square accounts withthat man of peace, and I reckon he won't forget his word. Neither shallI neglect the Quaker you tumbled over in front of the City Tavern. Thatwas a narrow escape for you, my boy."

  "I don't care to try anything of the kind again," Enoch replied grimly.

  "Not unless it could result as happily as this adventure has. You madea mistake in being too eager to overhear the conversation, and by thatvery mistake accomplished all we wanted to know."

  Greene did not cease commenting upon the events of the evening andcongratulating Enoch, until they had arrived at the farmhouse where hepretended to be employed.

  There horses were procured with the least possible delay, and thetwo set out toward Valley Forge at full speed, Enoch's heart beatingrapidly with joy and exultation, as he thought that at last he wouldhave an opportunity of speaking with General Washington, and would bea welcome visitor.

  Only at such times as it was absolutely necessary did the travelersslacken their pace, and the sun had not yet risen when they were haltedby the pickets of the encampment.

  Greene was provided with a password which would admit him withoutdelay, whatever the parole or the countersign might be, and after abrief pause the two spies galloped at full speed up to the rude hutwhere General Washington had lived during the severe winter.

  "Robert Greene to see the commander-in-c
hief on urgent business," wasthe reply to the challenge of the sentries who guarded the building,and so well was the spy's name known that no hesitation was made inawakening the general.

  The two were ushered into the sleeping apartment, and there, as he layin bed, his face lighted up in anticipation of welcome news, Enoch sawthe commander whom he revered.

  After Greene had hurriedly given the information they had brought, theboy was made more than happy when Washington took him by the hand andsaid:

  "You are a brave lad, Enoch Ball. You have rendered good service, andI thank you."

  To be thanked by General Washington was a greater reward, in Enoch'seyes, than a commission would have been in Jacob's, and he felt thatwhatever the future might have in store for him he had been fullyrepaid for everything by these three words from such a man.

  "Will it be advisable, do you think, sir, for the boy to return toPhiladelphia?" Greene asked.

  "Not to the town itself, while the British are in possession; but hemight remain at your rendezvous to act as messenger between there andthe camp, although I question if you will have any further importantinformation to bring us, unless it should chance that the order was notissued."

  "It is my desire, sir, to enlist as a soldier," Enoch said timidly.

  "It would seem as if you already were one, save for the ceremony ofsigning your name. Remain with Greene until some decided move is made,and then it shall be my care to see that your desire is granted. Inthe meantime you may consider yourself as attached to my staff in orderthat there shall be no question about rations. Mr. Greene, you will seethat the boy messes with my aids while he is in camp."

  Enoch was so overwhelmed by the honor thus conferred upon him as to behardly aware of what he did during the next few moments.

  When Greene touched him on the arm to signify that the interview was atan end and they should depart, he followed like one in a dream whereverthe spy led him, until the latter said, laying his hand heavily uponthe boy's shoulder:

  "Haven't you a word of comment, lad, upon the honor you have received?Let me tell you there are few men in the Continental army who wouldn'tbe bristling with pride in your place."

  "It doesn't seem possible! I cannot realize that the general reallymeant it! _I_ mess with his aids!"

  "But it is not only messing, lad; you are attached to hisstaff--perhaps not in a very important position; but when it isknown that because of personal services you have rendered, thecommander-in-chief allows you to consider yourself one of the 'membersof his family,' as the staff is termed, you will be treated withgreater respect than if Congress had given you a colonel's commission."

  "I know the honor is great," Enoch said slowly; "but I am almostafraid----"

  "Of what?"

  "That in such a position I shall do something wrong--make a fool ofmyself, or so behave that the general will be sorry he praised me."

  "Never you fear for that, lad. A boy who can have such fears won'tgo far astray. Attached to the staff of General Washington, thecommander-in-chief of the Continental army! Well, if that isn't anhonor for a boy hardly more than sixteen years old I don't know whatis! And it all came through a Tory Quaker, and the bungling of a spy inhis work! Talk about chance!"

  "That's just it," Enoch added hurriedly. "It was all a chance,therefore I don't deserve it."

  "But I allow you do, my boy, so we won't discuss the matter. We'reheading straight now for my regiment, and I intend that your friendsshall hear this wonderful piece of news, even if I am forced to awakenthem for the purpose of telling it."

  "Why not wait until daylight?"

  "Because I particularly want to see the expression on Master Ludwick'sface when he learns that you have earned more than a commission."

  "I am afraid Jacob will feel sore."

  "Afraid? I know he will, and that's why I propose telling the news atonce."

  "But he is a good friend, and was never as disagreeable as sincethe night we carried the news to General Lafayette. Then he allowedhimself to believe we were to be made officers at once, and it wasdisappointment that prevented him from acting as he would have done theday before."

  "He could never really have had the good of the cause at heart,otherwise his father's threats would not have been necessary in orderto force him to enlist. However, I will take your word for it thathe is a good comrade; but at the same time I am bound he and all themembers of my regiment shall know what General Washington has said toyou this evening."

  Footnotes:

  [C] This was a portion of the Tory force which had beenrecruited in New Jersey.

  [D]A horse used for carrying the cooking utensils and similarcamp equipage.