“We’re attacking Cornwallis’ entire force,” cried a staff-officer in dismay. “Shall we sound the retreat?”
Wayne threw his eagle eye over the field.
“No,” he shouted, hotly. “Sound the charge.”
The bugle rang out and the slender command charged with great impetuosity; then like a flash, before the astounded British could recover, Wayne ordered a retreat. If he had attempted the retreat in the first instance the chances are that he would have lost his entire command; as it was, Cornwallis was so astonished at the bold manœuvre that he could not take advantage of the American’s position until too late. Afterward he, apparently, suspected an ambuscade, for he sternly forbade any pursuit.
The country to the north was now somewhat clear of the enemy, and Tom asked General Lafayette’s permission to go on toward New York.
“It would be as well, perhaps,” said the French officer. “The way is as free of British as it will be for some time, and the dispatches are evidently important. But proceed by way of Baltimore; you have the best chance of getting through by that route.”
The ride to Baltimore was a long and difficult one, also attended by great danger. When he reached that city he, of course, at once proceeded to the home of his Uncle Ben. After greeting Laura, who was delighted to see him, he inquired after the brave old skipper of the Defence—Uncle Dick.
“The Defence is being used as a dispatch boat by the Count de Grasse,” answered Uncle Ben. “You know the French fleet is now in the Chesapeake.”
“Why,” said Tom, “you astonish me. I have heard nothing of that.”
“The news was slow in coming,” laughed Uncle Ben, his face shining with delight. “It must have been delayed somehow. And have you not heard of Cornwallis’ position?”