But, notwithstanding this stillness, it was evident that the British slept on their arms, and that, at the slightest intimation of an attack, they would be up in a moment and ready for the foe. The dark forms of the sentries could be seen constantly going the rounds, and the warning cry of “all’s well” periodically passed around the bivouac.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE REPULSE
“Hear me, for I will speak;
Must I give way?” —Shakespeare.
“By his closed eye unheeded and unfelt,
While sets that sun, and dews of ev’ning melt.” —Byron.
The story-teller is like the weaver of an elaborate pattern in tapestry. To a spectator he seems continually to be dropping threads without necessity, and as often taking up new ones which are uncalled for; but it must be remembered that he has the completed picture before him, and that he knows best what is necessary to do.
Aylesford, whom we last saw parting with Kate, reached the lower part of the river in safety, about noon; and proceeded immediately to procure the assistants, necessary to carry out his plot against Kate. He was not able, indeed, to gain the British camp, and had therefore, to hire a boat’s crew at random. But there were men of idle habits and royalist sympathies to be found, all through the war of independence, in every district of New Jersey, but particularly in those bordering on the sea-coast, where many circumstances contributed to render patriotism at a discount and open the field for venal services to either side. Aylesford, by his course of life, had become cognizant of one of these persons, to whom he now applied. This man was acquainted with others; and so, after only a few hours’ delay, he was enabled to set out to meet Arrison.
But the best laid plans of villains, as Burns says of mice and men, “aft gang agee.” We have seen how Arrison’s scheme to deliver Kate, by collusion, into the hands of Aylesford, had miscarried: and this failure necessarily involved the disappointment of the plans of Aylesford also. The boat of the latter was actually in sight of the refugees, when Arrison turned and fled up the river, though no one of the outlaws, nor even Kate, saw it, all having their attention concentrated on the patriots on shore, and subsequently on the pursuing craft. But Aylesford, seeing his prey ravished from him almost in the moment of seizing it, became nearly beside himself with rage. He had, in fact, arrived at the bend of the river below the settlement, quite half an hour previous, when, observing to his surprise that the inhabitants were keeping watch, he had laid by, under the bank, intending to wait for Arrison. He did this, because the latter would have to pass the armed party on shore but once, whereas if he should keep on his way, the risk would be run in both going and returning. He never doubted, meantime, that Arrison would push on at any cost.
When, therefore, he saw the refugees face about, he lost, as we have said, all control of himself. Starting up, he exclaimed—
“Cast off, board, give way. I’ll double your reward if we catch them.”
The men obeyed, though not without some signs of reluctance, until they had gained a position nearly opposite to the settlement. This was a little later in point of time than when the patriots had put off in pursuit of the refugees. During the whole of this period, Aylesford, who officiated as coxswain, had not ceased to stimulate his men to row faster, alternating promises of reward and urgent appeals, with passionate ejaculations against the poltroonery and treachery of Arrison.