“When they find out what we really are they’ll come again to-morrow and blow us to splinters,” said Whitestone.
“Yes, but we’ll be far away from here then,” said I, “and we may have held them back a day at least. Why, man, even an hour is worth much to our army up yonder!”
We were in a state of supreme satisfaction, also in a state of hurry. There was nothing more for us to do in the south, and it was our business to hasten northward with the news we had. I rejoiced greatly. I hoped that Clinton would continue to fiddle his time away below Albany, impressed by the risks he was taking, thanks to our brave battery.
We found our horses nearly dead from fright, but a few kicks restored life, and we rode northward in all haste. At Albany we changed horses, evaded questions, and resumed our ride. In the night we reached our own camp, and as soon as we had reported sought the rest we needed so badly, and, I think, deserved so well.
CHAPTER XIV. THE PURSUIT OF CHUDLEIGH.
Having returned, I expected to share in the pursuit of Burgoyne, and wondered to what particular duty I would be assigned. But a man never knows at seven o’clock what he will be doing at eight o’clock, and before eight o’clock had come I was called by the colonel of our regiment.
“Mr. Shelby,” he said, “you have already shown yourself intelligent and vigilant on important service.”
I listened, feeling sure that I was going to have something very disagreeable to do. You can depend upon it when your superior begins with formal flattery. I had just finished one important task, but the more you do the more people expect of you.