“Well, sir,” said Dicky, stammering and hesitating, “I see a crowd o’ men carryin’ somebody off, and they was on horseback—gallopin’ along. The officer was tied to the saddle”—Dicky here remembered about the pistol. “They had a pistol to his head, and they took the main road through Tiverton, sir. The officer was on a white horse, sir. I seen that, though it was so dark.”
It was impossible not to believe this circumstantial account. The sergeant and his men doublequicked it back to the barracks to send mounted scouts out on the Tiverton road. And meanwhile the Americans had rowed with muffled oars across the bay and had landed their prisoner on the opposite shore.
Dicky went into the house, and his mother securely locked and barred the door and put out the light; and when safe in darkness and silence she caught Dicky in her arms and cried:—
“My brave lad! My sensible boy!”
Dicky never felt in all his life so proud and happy before. And at that moment, they heard Jack Bell, marching up and down the streets, and roaring out, at the top of his lungs,—
“Two bells, and Gineral Prescott is tooken!”
CHAPTER VIII.
DICKY’S NEW SONG.
The sensation in Newport for a day or two was tremendous. It was not lessened when a flag of truce from the American commander announced that General Prescott was in his hands, and he would be pleased to exchange the British officer upon parole for an American officer of equal rank, suggesting Major-General Henry Lee, of the Light Horse Brigade. In a short time the exchange was effected, and General Prescott returned to Newport as a paroled prisoner.
The British officers were deeply chagrined at the boldness and success of the attack. Much sympathy was felt for General Prescott. He was a brave and capable officer, although a stern martinet, and the ridiculous circumstances of the affair leaked out and were much laughed at on the sly.
No two souls were more delighted at the outcome than old Jack Bell and Dicky Stubbs. Dicky’s ambition to have a song about it did not seem likely to be gratified, so he and the old sailor conceived the daring design of composing the song themselves. This was done in the long winter evenings sitting before the kitchen fire and by the light of a single tallow dip.