“What are we to do to-day?” I asked him, for Whitestone usually knew everything.
“I haven’t heard of anything,” he replied. “Maybe we’ll rest. We deserve it, you and I.”
Whitestone has some egotism, though I do not undertake to criticise him for it.
It seemed that he was right, for we were like two men forgotten, which is a pleasant thing sometimes in the military life. Finding that we had nothing else to do, we walked toward the British camp, which, as a matter of course, was the great object of curiosity for all of us, and sat down just within the line of our sharpshooters. The zeal and activity of these gentlemen had relaxed in no particular, and the crackle of their rifles was a most familiar sound in our ears.
We had a good position and could note the distressed look of the British camp. The baggage wagons were drawn up with small reference to convenience and more to defense. The house, the cellar of which I knew to be inhabited by women, children, and severely wounded men, was so torn by cannon balls that the wind had a fair sweep through it in many places. Some of the soldiers walking about seemed to us at the distance to be drooping and dejected. Yet they made resistance, and their skirmishers were replying to ours, though but feebly.
While I was watching the house I saw three or four officers in very brilliant uniforms come out. After a few steps they stopped and stood talking together with what seemed to be great earnestness. These men were generals, I was sure; their uniforms indicated it, and I guessed they had been holding conference. It must be a matter of importance or they would not stop on their way from it to talk again. I directed Whitestone’s attention, but he was looking already.
“Something’s up,” I said. “Maybe they are planning an attack upon us.”
“Not likely,” he replied. “It may be something altogether different.”
I knew what was running through his mind, and I more than half agreed with him.
The generals passed into a large tent, which must have been that of Burgoyne himself; but in a minute or two an officer came and took his way toward our camp. He was a tall, fine fellow, rather young, and bore himself with much dignity. Of a certainty he had on his finest uniform, for he was dressed as if for the eye of woman. His epaulets and his buttons flashed back the sun’s rays, and his coat was a blaze of scarlet.