By instinct, rather than deliberation, Darius led us southward, close on the heels of several hundred men, all of whom were quite as eager as we to keep out of the enemy's clutches.
To the best of my knowledge the British did not pursue; they had won a victory, but in so doing received quite as much of a drubbing as was needed, and officers as well as privates were willing to remain on the hard-earned field.
I believe it was a full hour before Darius would allow us to slacken the pace, and then we were well among the foremost of the fugitives.
By this time we were so nearly winded that it was impossible to continue the flight without a breathing spell, and the old man allowed us to halt when we were close upon the city.
We could see that our people were bearing to the west, in order to give Washington a wide berth, and, when it was possible to speak because of my heavy breathing, I asked Darius where he proposed to go.
"That's what I haven't rightly made up my mind on," the old man said thoughtfully. "It stands to reason that the enemy will, sooner or later, try to make as many prisoners as possible, an' I'm allowin' that those fellows ahead are bound to have a hot time of it before they're many hours older. If we could only get down the river!"
"But we can't, an' that much is certain," Jerry said petulantly.
"Perhaps you've got another scheme in your head, since the oyster business turned out so well," and it is possible that I spoke sharply, realizing with bitterness just then that but for my partner's proposition to sell fish to the fleet I might never have discovered I owed my country a duty, and, consequently, would not at that moment be hunted down, or in danger of it.
"Perhaps I have," Jerry replied quietly, giving no heed to my disagreeable manner of speaking.
"What is it, lad?" Darius asked curiously. "I take it that at such a time as this a bit of advice, no matter from whom it comes, is well worth listenin' to."