"Yes, yes, that might be well," said one or two others, simultaneously. The most of them, however, said nothing. The general waited a moment, looking about him.
"Gentlemen, it is too late to retreat. I promised myself I would not return without a fight, and I intend to keep that promise. We will carry out the plan ourselves, as much of it at least as we can. I trust Putnam got Griffin off, and that his skirmishers may draw out Von Donop. But be that as it may, we will have a dash at Trenton, and try to bag the game, and get away before the enemy can fall upon us in force. General Greene, you, of course have sent out pickets?"
"Yes, sir, the first men who crossed over, a mile up the road, on the hill yonder."
"Good! Ha, what was that? Snow, as I live, and the moon 's gone, too! How dark it has grown! I think you might allow the men to light fires in those hollows, and let them move about a little; they will freeze to death standing still—I wonder they don't, anyway. How unfortunate is this snow!"
"Beg pardon, your excellency?" said the first of the two messengers.
"What is it, man? Speak out!"
"Can we stay here and take part in your attack, sir?"
"Certainly you may. Fall in with the men there. Where are your horses?"
"We left them on the other side, sir."
"Well, they will have to stay there for this time, and you 'll have to go on foot with the rest."