Presently my uncle, casting a searching eye around on our men, about thirty in number, asked where our troops were.
I told him those were all the troops we had.
I thought the good old gentleman would have gone into fits. He rolled up his eyes to heaven; smacked his hands together, and bringing them by a sudden jerk to his breast, with a shrill whistle exclaimed, "Mad! — mad! — the young fellow is as mad as a March hare — Well, I'll tell you what, nephew of mine, you may go about on the river, chopping the planters' boats at this rate, but I would not be in your coat, my lad, for your jacket, though it was stiff with gold."
I asked him what he meant by that?
"Why, I mean," replied he, "that if you are not, all of you, knocked on the head in three hours, it will be a wonder."
"Aye! what makes you think so, uncle," said I.
He answered: "You know my old waiting man, Tom, don't you?"
"To be sure I do," said I; "I have known Tom ever since I was a boy, and should be confounded sorry to hear Tom prophesy any harm of me; for I have always taken him to be a very true man of his word."
"Yes, I'll warrant him," said my uncle; "for though Tom is a negro, and as black as old Nick, yet I would as soon take Tom's word as that of any white man in Carolina. Well, Tom, you know, has a wife at Mr. ——'s, as rank a tory as we have hereabouts. On coming home this morning, he shook his head and said he was mighty 'fraid you and Col. Marion were in a bad box; for, that he got it from one of the black waiters in the house, who overheard the talk, that there are THREE companies of tories now moulding their bullets, and making ready to cut you off."
I looked at Marion and saw battle in his face.