The grip of his hand tightened on the saddle pommel, his eyes following the irregular line of exhausted men.
"Yes, when Washington gets up; you need never doubt that. We'd be at it now, but for Charles Lee. I'd like well to know what has come over that man of late—the old spirit seems to have left him. Aye! it's Dickinson and Morgan out yonder, wasting good powder and ball on a handful of Dragoons. Wayne has been ordered forward, and then back, until he is too mad to swear, and I am but little better. By the Eternal! you should have heard Lafayette, when he begged permission to send us in. 'Sir,' said Lee, 'you do not know British soldiers; we cannot stand against them; we shall certainly be driven back at first, and must be cautious.' Returned the Frenchman: 'It may be so, General; but British soldiers have been beaten, and may be again; at any rate I am disposed to make the trial.'"
"'T is not like General Lee," I broke in. "He has ever been a reckless fighter. Has the man lost his wits?"
Maxwell leaned over, so his words should not carry beyond my ear.
"'T is envy of Washington, to my mind," he said soberly. "He has opposed every plan in council, imagining, no doubt, a failure of campaign may make him the commander-in-chief. There comes a courier now."
The fellow was so streaked with dust as to be scarcely recognizable, and he wiped the perspiration from his eyes to stare into our faces.
"General Maxwell?"
"Yes; what is it?"
"Compliments of General Lee, sir, and you will retire your troops toward the Freehold Meeting House, forming connection there with General Scott."
"Retreat! Good God, man! we haven't fired a shot."