“I trust not,” replied the aide, drily.
When dinner was announced Brereton drew Grayson aside for a moment and whispered: “’T is a matter of life and death to me that these fellows be made too drunk to ride, Will, yet to keep sober myself. You’ve got the head and stomach of a ditcher; wilt make a sacrifice of yourself for my sake?”
“And but deem it sport,” replied Grayson, with a laugh; and as he took his place at the table he remarked: “Gentlemen, we have tested British valour, we have tested British. courtesy, and found them not wanting, but we understand that, though you turn not your backs to either our soldiery or our ladies, there is one thing which can make you tremble, and that is our good corn whiskey.”
“Odds life!” cried O’Hara, “who has so libelled us? Man, we’d start three glasses ahead of you, and then drink you under the table, on a challenge, but for this ball that we are due at.”
“A pretty brag,” scoffed Brereton, “since you have an excuse to avoid its test. But come, we have three good hours; but drink Grayson even in that time, and I will warrant you’ll not be able to sit your horses. Come, fill up your glasses from decanter and kettle, and I will give you a toast to begin, to which you must drink bumpers. Here ’s to the soldier who fights and loves, and may he never lack for either.”
Four hours later, when Brereton rose from the table, Stevens and O’Hara were lying on the floor, Boudinot was fallen forward, his head resting among the dishes on the table, fast asleep, and Mobray and Grayson, clasped in each other’s arms, were reeling forth different ditties under the impression that they were singing the same song. Tiptoeing from the room, the aide went to the kitchen door and said to the publican, “Order one of the dragoons to make ready Captain Mobray’s horse, as he wishes to ride back to Philadelphia.” In the passageway he took from the hook the hat, cloak, and sword of the young officer, and, removing his own sash and sabre, donned the three. Stealing back to the scene of the revel, he found Mobray and Grayson now lying on the floor as well, unconscious, though still affectionately holding each other. Kneeling gently, he searched the pockets of the unconscious man until the passport was lighted upon. Thrusting it into his belt, he stole from the room.
“What are the orders for us, sir?” asked the dragoon who held Mobray’s horse, as the aide mounted.
With an almost perfect imitation of the baronet’s voice, Brereton answered, “Colonel O'Hara will issue directions later,” and then as he cantered down the road he added gleefully: “Considerably later. What luck that it should be Fred, whose voice I know so well that I can do it to the life whenever I choose!” Then he laughed with a note of deviltry. “I am popping my head into a noose,” he said; “but whether ’t is that of hangman or matrimony, time only will show.”
XLV
IN THE JAWS OF THE LION
The ball had been in full progress for an hour when a masker, who from his entrance had stood leaning against the wall, suddenly left his isolated position and walked up to one of the ladies.