Chapter Fifteen—The Pursuit of Wildfoot
The general was so eager that Graves and I were several yards behind him when we emerged from the house into the midst of a great tumult, orderlies galloping from the door with despatches, and others returning for more, while lights were increasing rapidly in the city, and soldiers were gathering for duty. It was evident that Sir William was thoroughly aroused, and intended to capture Wildfoot if it were possible to do such a thing. My first feeling of anger against the ranger because of his treatment of me passed, as I reflected that he naturally took me for a British officer, and could not have done otherwise, even had he known the difference. Now I began to fear for him. I did not wish this bold man, so valuable to our cause, to be captured, possibly to be hanged upon some pretext or other. But Sir William did not give me much time to think.
"Be sure you follow me, Melville," he said.
He was already on horseback, and, mounting a horse that an orderly held for me, I galloped after him. He had gathered several other aides in his rapid pursuit, and we made quite a cavalcade, the hoofs of our horses thundering upon the hard street. The whole city was awake now; night-capped heads were thrust from windows, and trembling voices asked what was the matter. But we paid no heed, galloping on.
Catron was among the officers who had joined us, and pointing towards Germantown, he said:—
"They ran this way; I saw four men with pistols in their hands dash down the street. One was very large."
"That was Wildfoot! It was he! Sound the call!" Sir William shouted joyfully to a trumpeter.
The man put the instrument to his lips and blew the hunting call. Merrily rose the notes, and Sir William's spirits rose with them. He felt sure that already he held Wildfoot in the hollow of his hand.