That forenoon Pierre and I had gone to the commissary's quarters when the rations were dealt out, and stood in line to receive our share, for during the past few days there had been no question as to giving us a certain amount of food. We were most likely looked upon as village lads, and by this time my Lord Cornwallis had been forced to feed the citizens of York from the army stores, he having seized from those who had an abundance everything that might serve to satisfy hunger.
Even I, thick-headed and dull of vision as I am, understood on this morning that some change was near at hand. The red-coats were moving here and there hurriedly, like bees whose hive has been disturbed. There was a great gathering of horses nearby the river bank, and among them, to my grief and anxiety, was my own colt Silver Heels; baggage wagons were being drawn down to the shore, and officers rode to and fro in hot haste, seemingly giving little heed as to what might be going on in the fortifications.
Half the buildings in the town had been taken possession of that they might be used as hospitals for the poor wretches who had been wounded, and as we passed them on our way to the commissary's quarters I noted that the surgeons were going from one to another as if having but little time to spend. The British fire had slackened although the Americans continued to pour shot and bombs into the town in a half-hearted way, and one might almost have supposed they were getting short of ammunition.
"Something of importance is going on here," I said decidedly when Pierre and I, having received what was supposed to be our proper amount of rations, had set off as if to return to the cabin. "Do you note that baggage is being carried to the river, and the horses are tethered there? Have you seen how hurriedly the surgeons were moving about, giving but scant heed to those who need their services most?"
"All that I have seen," Pierre replied gravely, "and it would seem to me that the riddle may easily be read, even by you who claim to have no knowledge of military matters."
"What do you mean?" I cried sharply. "What is it you read in this movement, except, perhaps, that Cornwallis is making ready for another sortie?"
"Would he make ready for a sortie by moving his baggage to the river? By gathering the horses there?" Pierre cried, speaking incautiously loud, and then lowering his voice to a whisper as he realized that the words might carry far even despite the roaring of the American guns. "If it was in his mind to strike a blow at our people would he be overhauling his baggage? Would not the horses be taken near to the front where they might be used?"
"What is it you mean?" I cried impatiently, not in the mood to wait until Pierre had gotten ready to repeat after his own fashion that which was in his mind.
"Do you remember that the Jerseyman said my Lord Cornwallis was making ready to run away?"
Like a flash it came upon me. I remembered all that Morgan had said, and as it came to my mind everything unusual around me had its meaning as plain as the sun at noon-time.