“How to send Clinton and his eight thousand men back below Albany, hold Burgoyne fast, and continue the campaign as it was begun.”
“That’s a pretty big job,” said Whitestone, “for one man, and that one, too, rather young and not overweighted with rank.”
“Maybe you think so,” I said with lofty indifference. “But I can do it, and, what is more, I will prove to you that I can. You can stay here while I go down to the council of generals and tell them what to do.”
Not giving Whitestone time to recover, I stalked off in a state of extreme dignity.
CHAPTER XX. NOT A DROP TO DRINK.
I pressed into the council of the generals with an energy that would not be denied, also with some strength of the knee, as an officious aid-de-camp can testify even at this late day. As a matter of course, my information was of such quality that everybody was delighted with me and praise became common. Again I felt as if I ought to be commander in chief. Again I had sufficient self-sacrifice to keep the thought to myself.
As I left the room they were talking about the disposition of the prisoner who had tried to trick us into precipitate flight and the abandonment of our prey. This put an idea into my head, and I told it to a colonel near the door, who in his turn told it to their high mightinesses, the generals, who were wise enough to approve of it, and, in truth, to indorse it most heartily.
I suggested that Albert be sent back to Burgoyne with the most gracious compliments of our commander in chief, who was pleased to hear the news of the speedy arrival of Clinton, which would greatly increase the number of prisoners we were about to take. I asked, as some small reward for my great services, that I be chosen to escort Albert into the British camp and deliver the message. That, too, was granted readily.