But to return to the party at the Four Corners. When the veteran had got his men mounted and under arms, a restless desire to participate in the glory and dangers of the expedition came over the washerwoman. Whether she was impelled to the undertaking by a dread of remaining alone, or a wish to hasten in person to the relief of her favorite, we will not venture to assert but, as Hollister was giving the orders to wheel and march, the voice of Betty was heard, exclaiming,—
“Stop a bit, sargeant dear, till two of the boys get out the cart, and I’ll jist ride wid ye; ’tis like there’ll be wounded, and it will be mighty convanient to bring them home in.”
Although inwardly much pleased with any cause of delay to a service that he so little relished, Hollister affected some displeasure at the detention.
“Nothing but a cannon ball can take one of my lads from his charger,” he said; “and it’s not very likely that we shall have as fair fighting as cannon and musketry, in a business of the evil one’s inventing; so, Elizabeth, you may go if you will, but the cart will not be wanting.”
“Now, sargeant dear, you lie, anyway,” said Betty, who was somewhat unduly governed by her potations. “And wasn’t Captain Singleton shot off his horse but tin days gone by? Aye, and Captain Jack himself too; and didn’t he lie on the ground, face uppermost and back downwards, looking grim? And didn’t the boys t’ink him dead, and turn and l’ave the rig’lars the day?”
“You lie back again,” cried the sergeant, fiercely; “and so does anyone who says that we didn’t gain the day.”
“For a bit or so—only I mane for a bit or so,” said the washerwoman; “but Major Dunwoodie turned you, and so you licked the rig’lars. But the captain it was that fell, and I’m thinking that there’s no better rider going; so, sargeant, it’s the cart will be convanient. Here, two of you, jist hitch the mare to the tills, and it’s no whisky that ye’ll be wanting the morrow; and put the piece of Jenny’s hide under the pad; the baste is never the better for the rough ways of the county Westchester.” The consent of the sergeant being obtained, the equipage of Mrs. Flanagan was soon in readiness to receive its burden.
“As it is quite uncertain whether we shall be attacked in front, or in rear,” said Hollister, “five of you shall march in advance, and the remainder shall cover our retreat towards the barrack, should we be pressed. ’Tis an awful moment to a man of little learning, Elizabeth, to command in such a service; for my part, I wish devoutly that one of the officers were here; but my trust is in the Lord.”
“Pooh! man, away wid ye,” said the washerwoman, who had got herself comfortably seated. “The divil a bit of an inimy is there near. March on, hurry-skurry, and let the mare trot, or it’s but little that Captain Jack will thank ye for the help.”
“Although unlearned in matters of communicating with spirits, or laying the dead, Mrs. Flanagan,” said the veteran, “I have not served through the old war, and five years in this, not to know how to guard the baggage. Doesn’t Washington always cover the baggage? I am not to be told my duty by a camp follower. Fall in as you are ordered, and dress, men.”