Chapter 26

AN INTERESTING EXPERIMENT.

Two days later Allen was not so fortunate.

He had been talking to the people and urging them to remain neutral, allowing the soldiers on each side to fight out the issue, when one of the people of the little town, near which was a small fort, left the house and ran to the fort.

"Ethan Allen, the rebel, is at my house," he cried, almost breathlessly, as he reached the outworks. Instantly there was commotion among the garrison. It was true Allen was dreaded by the British more than the men who were besieging Boston.

He was a freelance, and it was never known where he might strike.

His daring at Ticonderoga was not forgotten, and although no money reward was offered for his arrest, it was known that promotion would be the reward of those who captured him.

A small force was sent at once to the farmhouse and Allen called on to surrender.

The lieutenant who had been consigned to the lead was of a different nature to the sergeant of Sabrevous, for he would not listen to any speech.

"I am here to arrest you and your party, and save your breath, for you will need it at the court-martial. Surrender or we shall make you."

"We shall not surrender," answered Allen, calmly.

Allen, Baker and Old Buckskin had got into a corner of the room and dragged tables and a heavy dresser in front of them.

The English fired at the "rebels" and succeeded only in damaging the walls and furniture.

Old Buckskin raised his musket, an old friend that had brought down many a bear and wolf in the forests; he patted it affectionately and took aim.

Every movement was as calm as though the enemy was a defenseless animal destined to fall beneath the unerring aim of the hunter.

The soldiers had reloaded and awaited the order to fire.

The musket belched forth its leaden fury, and the lieutenant fell dead.

"No use tackling small fry when the big uns are there," explained the hunter, as he reloaded.

Allen and Baker had both fired their pistols and wounded two of the soldiers.

"Let us charge them," suggested Allen, and almost before the words were uttered the little band of patriots had emerged from behind their barricade and were pressing the English toward the door.

With their leader dead, and four more dead or wounded, the soldiers became demoralized, and throwing away their guns, ran just as fast as they would had a pack of hungry wolves been in pursuit.

"Shall we pursue?" asked Baker.

"No, we will return to the camp. I think we have done all we can this trip."

The return to the Isle-aux-Noix was accomplished without any adventure, and Allen was warmly welcomed by Gen. Montgomery.

The young Irish leader had just determined on the siege of St. John, and the information that Allen could give him proved very useful.

The whole plan of campaign was discussed and considerably modified after Allen had given his views on the subject.

The Green Mountain warrior suggested that the besiegers should be protected by what is termed circumvallation--that is, by a line or series of works surrounding the place, not to serve offensively against the place, but to defend the siege army from an attack from without.

His plan was adopted and the work was intrusted to him.

The English in St. John watched the preparations and laughed at the absurdity of the affair.

"Those rebels think they can fight," said the colonel in command. "Let them make all their preparations, and we will blow them all into smithereens in no time."

But as he watched the works proceed he was not quite so sanguine.

"Who is leading the rebels?" he asked.

"Gen. Richard Montgomery."

"Montgomery? Not the Irish general who was with the British at Martinique?"

"The same, Colonel."

"By Jove! by Jupiter! he knows what he is doing. Who is second in command?"

"Ethan Allen."

"By Jove! we have blundered. We ought never to have allowed them to come so near. I thought that they were an undisciplined lot of peasants, who knew nothing about war, and would flee as soon as we opened fire on them."

"Perhaps the rank and file will."

"They dare not."

"Why?"

"I was with Montgomery at Havana, and I know that he would turn his gun on his own men if they showed any signs of retreating. He is the very devil when fighting."

"What shall we do?'

"I must think."

The colonel had shown his anxiety more than he had intended, and he must have some time to recover his equilibrium.

In a few minutes he had taken his glass and scanned the enemy's works.

He saw the weak spots and gave orders that they should be charged.

A regiment sallied out and marched with band playing and banners flying.

Allen saw them approach, and at once communicated with Montgomery.

Orders were given to defend the weak places and to be content in holding the line.

The British had underestimated the courage of the Americans.

They had yet to learn that men fighting for a principle were stronger than those who fought to obey orders.

Allen knew that many of his men were raw, never having stood up before an enemy, and that when it came to fighting they might be frightened.

He called his officers together and addressed them.

"It is necessary that we reduce St. Johns, and as it is our first real battle you must each be responsible for your men. Don't let any falter. At the first sign of retreat, unless I order it, shoot the leader; that will prevent the others from running. It is harsh, but necessary. Now remember that our country depends on us for victory. We must prove ourselves worthy. Address your companies and inspire them with courage. Let each man do his duty."

There was a magnetism about Allen which won respect and obedience.

"Do you not think he blundered?" an officer once asked another about the great Napoleon.

"Blundered? Perhaps he did. But if he ordered me to cut off my hand I would do it. He owns me body and soul."

And it was just this kind of feeling which animated the men who followed Ethan Allen.

The British regiment charged the earthworks, and the Americans had all they could do to hold their position.

The slaughter was large in proportion to the number engaged, and Allen feared for the result.

But when the English began to retire he ordered his men to follow and challenge to another combat.

The enemy, seeing the move, turned and prepared to resist the charge of the Americans.

Then commenced a series of masterly feints which won renown for the Green Mountain hero.

His men fell back after the first volley, and the English pursued.

Again Allen rallied his men and charged the enemy, only to retreat as quickly as before.

Three times was this maneuver practiced, and each time the English were drawn nearer the strongest points of the line of circumvallation.

Montgomery saw, at first with surprise, the movements of his able coadjutor; then, when the object became apparent, he ordered his division to be in readiness, and after the third feint, with a loud shout the entire force of the Americans charged the English and pursued them into the town, slaughtering them like sheep.

Allen advised forcing an entrance into the town, but Montgomery knew that the enemy would have every advantage, and that success was very doubtful.

He preferred to wait, and by strengthening his position compel the garrison to surrender.

The afternoon saw the white flag floating over both fort and earthworks. The emblem of peace meant that both sides wished to care for the wounded and bury the dead.

It is a strange feature of civil war, and the war between the English and the Americans might be so called, that when the flag of truce is hoisted the men of both sides are ready to fraternize.

It was so in this instance before St. Johns.

Men who had been aiming at each other an hour previously now drank from the same canteen and helped to bury each other's dead.

Among the wounded was young Eben Pike.

He was not a soldier; that is, he had never been enrolled among the men, but, as it was afterward known, he had borrowed the uniform of a sick soldier and had answered the name when it was called.

Remember Baker was in command of the burying party, and when he saw Eben he could not help the tears falling on the white face of the boy.

"My poor fellow, are you badly hurt?" he asked, in a tremulous voice.

"I think I have received my call," answered Eben, bravely.

"I hope not. But is there anything I can do for you?"

"I would like to see the colonel."

Eben was placed on a stretcher and carried to the rear.

Very soon Allen was bending over him and asking him about his wounds.

"I do not know; I don't seem to bleed much, and yet I am so weak."

The surgeon came quickly at the request of Allen, and made a thorough examination of the boy.

He was very silent, and no one knew what his verdict would be.

"Am I going home?" asked Eben.

"Going home? Are you tired of fighting?" the surgeon queried.

"Oh, no, I would like to live and fight until my country is free."

The speech was too much for Eben, for he fainted, and the doctor, after leaving instructions, went out of the shed which served as hospital, and called Allen on one side.

"Well?"

"That boy is shocked. It is a peculiar case. Not once in a score of years do we find such a case. Every nerve is numb, every muscle relaxed, and whether he will live or die depends on arousing him from that numbness."

"Is he wounded?"

"Only slightly. A spent ball may have caused the shock. What can we do to rouse him?"

"That is for you to suggest. What do you think necessary?"

"A counter shock of some kind. Its effects would soon be apparent. If it succeeds he will be all right in a day; if it fails he will die."

"And without the counter shock?"

"His life is in a very precarious condition."

"I do not know--how would it be to make believe I am killed?"

"The very thing. I will arrange it."

The doctor laid his plans for the very interesting experiment with great care.

After giving instructions he returned to Eben's cot and felt his pulse. It was very feeble, and life was fast ebbing away. That was the best moment to shock him, and on the effect of that shock his life would depend.

The doctor gave the signal he had arranged, and almost instantly a pistol shot was heard.

Then a second followed.

Eben opened his eyes and looked round.

A cry pierced the walls of the miserable temporary hospital.

"Ethan Allen killed! Who could be his murderer?"

The words were shouted out as though some one was in great distress over the great tragedy.

"What did he say?" asked Eben.

"It sounded like 'Ethan Allen murdered,' but, perhaps, I am mistaken."

"Go and see. Stay, I will go, and if any one has killed the best man on earth I will find him and kill him!"

The blood was coursing faster through the boy's veins; the color had come back to his cheeks and he forgot his wound. His only thought was about Allen.

"You stay here; I will go and see about it."

"Let me go, please do, doctor?"

"No, you stay here. If the report is true you will need all your strength to avenge the death of the brave man."

"You are right. But, doctor, I feel right enough. I wonder what made me think I was going to die?"

"I will tell you all later. Now lie still. I will not be gone long."

"Don't be a minute, please, doctor, or I shall have to come after you."

The surgeon smiled to himself with great satisfaction as he sought the presence of Ethan Allen.

"Well, how did it go?" asked the mountaineer.

"Like magic. No sooner did he hear the cry than he wanted to get up and seek your murderer. He is as well as ever he was, though he will be weak for a day or so."

"Shall I go and see him?"

"Not yet. Wait until I summon you."

The doctor returned to Eben.

"Well, doctor, it is not true--say it is not true!"

"No, the alarm was a false one."

"Thank Heaven!"

"I am just as well pleased as you. Now try and get some sleep."

"Will you ask the colonel to call and see me?"

"Yes. Ah, here he is."

Eben caught Allen's hand and the hot tears flowed over it. He kissed the hard hand of the mountaineer and stroked it until nature came to the rescue and Eben fell back asleep.

"He is saved. The countershock did what nothing else could. It was an interesting experiment."