CHAPTER IV.

THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.

“So, he is nothing but one of these cursed rebels, after all. If _that_ is the case, my chances are not so desperate as you seem to think. If Captain Morgan succeeded in doing his duty, he is doubtless in custody now, if not dead. Of course I speak of the young man; I have no fears of the old woman and her daughter.”

“Captain Morgan did his duty to the best of his ability; but I am sorry to say that John Vale is not only _not_ in custody, but that, on the contrary, it is Morgan and his command--that is, those of them that are still alive--who are the prisoners.”

“You can not mean to say that a troop of dragoons has been defeated by a squad of these half-mounted, half-armed rebels?”

“I mean to say just that; and I now order you to take your troop and proceed to the spot to bury our dead. No doubt the Americans will be in such haste to leave, after their victory, that they will have left the corpses still exposed.”

“And after that, what remains to be done?”

“You will leave the spot and return some miles. There are two whigs, whose houses are close together; their names are Phillips and Tappan. Take up your quarters with them until I send you further orders. It will be necessary to have a force in that vicinity, and your work will soon be ready for you.”

“Then I must hold myself ready to begin the extermination of the rebels. I go; but I have misgivings that it will be no child’s mission.”

“Good-morning, then.”

“_Au revoir!_” and, with a graceful wave of his hand, Reginald Preston departed.

Hastening to his quarters, he found that the news of the defeat of Captain Morgan had preceded him. On leaving the presence of Sir Henry, Turner had been active in spreading the story of the defeat. He found the men now anxious for a brush with the “rebel dogs,” as they styled the patriot brigade.

When the duty detailed was confided to the soldiers, they were enthusiastic enough, and set up a shout. In an hour from the time Preston bade adieu to General Clinton, he was on the road, having Turner with him as guide.

The arm of the tory was not, by any means, seriously injured; and the prospect of more gold made him ready to encounter danger again, although he had but lately so narrowly escaped death. They had not ridden far, when Preston expressed a wish to have some conversation with him, and the two rode on some distance ahead.

Whatever it was that Reginald wanted, it seemed as though he found some difficulty in getting at it. After some questions of no moment, he began to speak of the Vales. If he was desirous of knowing the history of the family, from the very moment when the head of it first put foot within the State, he could have found no more fitting person to inquire of. Turner had made them a study, it would seem; and the questioner soon learned a great deal more than it was pleasing for him to know. There was no doubt, now, in his mind, but that John Vale was his uncle’s grandson, and fully entitled to the possession of the property which he had fondly hoped was to become his own. Although the young man was a rebel to the crown, he was afraid that it would not invalidate his title to the estate. Although John Vale and the rest of the family might be attainted, yet he well knew that a large proportion of the money was in the hands of Americans, and probably they were whigs.

What thoughts passed through his brain in the course of that ride, it is hard to state; but, long ere the journey’s end was reached, his mind was settled as to the course to be pursued. The fortune he _would_ have, and Turner should be the tool through which he should reach it. Riding side by side the now deliberate villain and his tool occasionally spoke together, but Preston was too much engaged in perfecting his plans to ask more than an occasional question; while Turner, cunning, and quick of divination, had a partial clue to what was in the mind of the British partisan.

When the British reached the spot on which the conflict of the preceding night had taken place, they found all traces of the struggle removed. Four or five newly-made mounds testified that the rebels were too brave and generous to let the corpses of their foes remain festering in the sun. Here and there, among the short grass, deep red stains and pools of coagulated blood marked the spot where the men had fallen; a broken plume, a glove, or a torn epaulet--these were the only signs of the slaughter. Horses, men, arms--all had disappeared, and the Britons had the consolation of knowing that when they should meet this brigade of rebels, they would find them armed with tried weapons of Great Britain’s own furnishing. The men looked mournfully around; for soldiers have hearts, and are capable of warm attachments; and here many a comrade, with whom they had spent many happy hours, had bit the dust.

Preston marked the direction which Ernshaw had taken, for his trail was plainly visible; but, as his orders were to retire toward Charleston as soon as he had performed the last sad offices for the fallen, he dared not go in pursuit although his men were eager enough for a fray. Disappointment was plainly visible on more than one face, when the order came for a return, but no murmurs were raised. Slowly the procession emerged from the woods, and crossed Cedar Creek, taking the road which led toward the farm-houses, where Captain Preston was to take up his headquarters.

Mrs. Vale had, long ere this, heard the result of the conflict, for her son had returned at early dawn. It was to stay but for a moment, however, for he knew that now home would be no place for him. A company would be sent to revenge the defeat of Captain Morgan as soon as intelligence would be received by the commander at Charleston; and, as his house lay on the road, it would be dangerous to be near it.

When the troop had arrived opposite the door, Reginald gave the command to halt, and ordered half-a-dozen of his men to dismount, and search the house. Though it was improbable, it still was not impossible that some of the rebels might be found within it. Catherine and her mother were sitting sewing, when the door was rudely flung open, disclosing the red-coated soldiers who stood at the threshold.

With calmness Mrs. Vale arose, and advanced a step toward them, saying, as she did, “What do you want, sirs?”

The men replied by entering the room first; then, one of them said: “To search the house to see if there be any rebels laid away within it.”

“One of you will be sufficient, then; you will find nothing within its walls which it is not right that an honest woman should have.”

“And your son--is he within?”

“He is _not_; but if he were, it perhaps were as well for you to defer the search, for he is not one who willingly permits liberties to be taken with himself or his house.”

The answer that was given to this rather fiery speech of the good woman, was a fierce scowl, and then the men spread themselves over the house. It was soon evident that those whom they sought were not within, and they passed out. Reaching the yard, a large-sized dog was standing in the pathway, regarding them with a look which might well pass for one of intense astonishment. The foremost soldier, not liking the looks of the animal, and having a deep hatred for any thing American, drew his sabre and made a stroke at the unflinching dog as he neared him. The sudden attack, and the pain of a slight wound, caused the dog to bound aside with a sharp cry; but, almost immediately he turned, and, with lips drawn back over his teeth, was about to spring upon the offender.

Catherine, who had hitherto remained seated, hearing the cry rushed to the door. In a moment she detected the true condition of affairs. At the sound of her call Lion forgot his purpose, and, with a quick bound, leaping by his would-be slayer, stood by the side of Miss Vale.

Captain Preston saw what had transpired, and called to the man to relinquish his purpose--for he had turned as if to follow the creature. With a surly obedience the fellow obeyed. With a low bow to the fair young girl, who still stood in the doorway, the captain struck spurs into his charger’s sides, and galloped away, his men following at the same rate of speed. Catherine and her mother gazed after them, and, as the maiden caressed the shaggy head of Lion, she gave vent to her feelings, by saying to her mother in a low, half musing tone: “Notwithstanding all the cruel deeds that have been committed by these foreign soldiers, there seems to be a little good in some of them. So they would kill you, my brave Lion, for trying to defend your home? You must be more careful next time, or you may get yourself into an unpleasant difficulty, from which you can not come with a whole skin.”

The dog shook his head gravely, and looked up into the face of his mistress, as though he understood the advice given him, but was rather uncertain, whether or no he should take it. He gave a low bark and wagging his tail threw himself on the floor, while Catherine resumed her sewing.

* * * * *

Great was the consternation of the good old whigs, Phillips and Tappan, when a troop of British cavalry came dashing along the road, and drew up in front of the dwelling of the former. In answer to a heavy knock, the old man himself came to the door. Reginald Preston related to him the orders of General Clinton. Where he could find accommodations for thirty or thirty-five men, was a question that puzzled the good old man for a time, but he consoled himself with the thought that he would be no worse off than his neighbor Mr. Tappan--toward whose house the remainder of the troops were being led by their captain.

As there was no possible good to be gained by demurring, Mr. Tappan, like Mr. Phillips, obeyed the order of his uninvited guests with seeming alacrity, and did his best to ingratiate himself with those who had the power to resent any fancied ill-treatment.

Captain Reginald had a room set apart for his use in Mr. Tappan’s house, but, as the two whigs were near neighbors, he was not separated from the rest of his command, by more than two hundred yards.

As he retired for the night, he murmured to himself: “I must really find some way of becoming more intimate with that pretty cousin of mine, for, though not beautiful, she pleases my fancy most mightily. I have half an idea that it would _pay_ to _marry_ her, and settle down in this cursed country! With her share of the fortune, I could become quite a respectable farmer. How it would look! The honorable Reginald Preston driving a couple of plough horses.”