The man grinned. A bit of color had come back into his face now, and the dark stain was no longer spreading on the shoulder of his coat.
“Why, you load and prime your piece and blast away, hoping the shot will tell. The Yankees sight and aim. I saw the man who hit me. Stood up behind a stone wall, looked me over, head to toe, and marked me down. We fire line to line, and they fire man to man. We shoot in the direction of the enemy. They pick a target. That’s why they’ve got us running away.”
You mean they shoot like poachers, thought Gerry. Like poachers after pheasants in the squire’s bit o’ woodland. But he did not say it out loud. Every man’s past was his own, but to keep it so, he had to be wary.
They had crossed the Neck by this time, and the road veered away to the right, circling the foot of Bunker Hill and heading for Charlestown village.
“Don’t hear them firing after us any more,” said Gerry, peering back the way they had come. Some of the sunset red was still left in the sky, and enough daylight for him to see that the road behind them was choked with carts and stragglers, but the whole pace of the retreat seemed to have slowed.
“No, and you won’t hear them again tonight. They won’t dare follow us into Charlestown. Could you hold me up, lad? I do not breathe as easily as I am wont to do.”
Gerry knelt down, got his hands under the limp elbows of the fallen officer, and hoisted him into a sitting position against the side of the cart. The man drew a few painful breaths and then spoke again.
“Thank you for your trouble. I am Captain Blakeslee of the King’s Own.”
“’Twas no trouble, sir,” muttered Gerry uneasily. “I be Private Malory of the Twenty-third.”
The captain’s face relaxed in a smile. “A fine regiment—the Welsh Fusileers. I was a guest when they made merry on last St. David’s day. Ah—it comes to me now. I knew I had seen your face before. Were you not the lad who led forth the goat with the gilded horns? He ran wild, I remember, leaped on the table, and up-ended our wine glasses just as we were going to drink to the Prince of Wales! A ludicrous scene!”