University of Virginia Library

34. CHAPTER XXXIV.
In which Robin Day stumbles upon another acquaintance and companion
in affliction.

The words of my friend—“I don't know
whether they shoot traitors or hang them, but hemp
or lead must finish the business”—remained jingling
in my ears for many hours after I lost sight of
him, and stimulated the violent exertions which I
made to escape the dangerous vicinity of the battle.

I ran through the woods and fields, until the lesser
sounds of conflict, the shouts and rattle of musketry,
no longer came to my ears; though I could long hear,
at intervals, the dying thunder of the cannon. But,
by and by, even this was no longer heard, and I had
therefore reason to fancy myself beyond the immediate
danger of pursuit, supposing that pursuit should
be attempted; which I thought not unlikely, considering
the malicious temper of my foe, Skipper
Duck. Nevertheless, I did not cease running at the
very top of my speed as long as my strength held,
being impelled by the urgency of my fears to make
the most of my time; and, even when quite worn
out by my exertions, and obliged to pause to take
breath, I allowed myself only a few moments of
rest, and immediately resumed my journey, which I
pursued as fast as I could walk, until late in the afternoon,

when, I felt satisfied I had left the field of
battle more than twenty miles behind me.

Whither I was going I did not greatly trouble
myself to take into consideration. My first object
was to get out of danger, and beyond the reach
of the patriotic militia-men, which it appeared to
me would be most easily effected by striking away
from the coast, where I supposed all the fighting-men
of Virginia were now concentrated, to repel the invader;
and I had some vague kind of notion, that,
once out of their reach, I would hunt up some other
field of glory, and there, by fighting very valiantly
on the side of my country, wipe out the sin of treason,
of which I had been guilty in act, though not
in intention.

My first object, then, was to make my way into
the interior; my next desire was to proceed with as
little risk of interruption as possible; for which
reason I avoided, at least during the greater portion
of the day, all public roads, confining myself to the
barren pine woods with which that country is covered,
and in which I had less fear of stumbling upon
suspicious persons—for, truly, that day, I thought
all persons were suspicious. With the same view,
I eschewed all human habitations, giving a wide
berth to every farm house and cottage it was my
fate to see, not knowing what dangers I might encounter,
by approaching them. And hence it happened,
as I had laid in no store of provender for my
journey, that I was in quite a state of famine towards
evening; at which period, weary and forlorn,
I sat down upon the bank of a small river, where a
by-road crossed it, to bewail my hard fate, and to
devise some means, if possible, of escaping a death
of starvation.

As for my hard fate, it was now undoubtedly

harder than ever; and I could not but wonder, while
I grieved, at the variety of perils, which a persecuting
fortune had, in so short a period, heaped upon
my back. First, I had brought myself under the
danger of the law for a murder—for, be it remembered,
I had no knowledge of the restoration to life
of the unfortunate M'Goggin, Mr. John Dabs's advices
to the contrary notwithstanding; secondly, I
lay under an accusation of highway robbery and
horse-stealing; thirdly, I had been drawn into the
commission of a burglary, and a most incredibly
audacious one, too; and, last and worst of all, I was
a traitor to my country, accused, convicted, condemned,
(at least by my friend Dicky Dare,) with
the most undeniable prospect of being hanged, or
shot, for my pains, the moment my country should
catch me. And all this had happened within the
few weeks in which I had been left to govern myself
by my own wisdom. “Alas!” I cried, beginning
to doubt whether my wisdom was so great as
I had supposed it to be—a doubt most distressing to
a sensible person—beginning to question even my
ability to take care of myself—a question still more
afflicting to a young person who has believed himself
for a while much cleverer than others of his
species.

My hunger was also an evil which sorely oppressed
me, and the more bitterly as I had still a
handsome sum of money about me, enough to buy
food for a regiment, but which I durst not apply to
relieving my wants; for I was afraid lest the attempt
should only lead to my being taken up for a
suspicious person.

When I reflected upon these things, and remembered
that I was a stranger in a strange land, flying
I knew not well whither, but, as I greatly feared,

only from one chapter of dangers to another, being
very hungry besides, the tears coursed down my
cheeks, and I gave myself up to despair. One while
I thought I would hang myself in the wood, in
which I must otherwise make my bed; and then I
thought I would try and catch a terrapin in the
creek for my supper. But the terrapin slided off
his log, the moment I began to look too hard at
him; and the thought of suspension passed from my
mind, as too disagreeable to be debated. Now, I
had some notion of going back to the militia, to
surrender myself to the court martial, trusting to
the influence of my friend Dicky Dare, whose regimentals
convinced me he had become a great
character, to come off in safety; and then I half
proposed even to return to New Jersey and take
my trial for the killing of M'Goggin. In the one
case, I should have the satisfaction of being near my
brother in arms; in the other, of being befriended
by my beneficent patron; but in either, I must run
a risk of “hemp or lead,” which I could not abide to
think of. But what was I to do? how was I to
escape the perils that followed me behind, and perhaps
environed me in front? and, also, how was I
to get my supper?

While I sat weeping, and asking myself these
questions in vain, entirely absorbed by the greatness
of my distresses, I was surprised by the sudden appearance
of a horseman; who rode up through the
soft sandy road, without my hearing him, or suspecting
his presence, until he made it known by an
abrupt question; “I say, brother, d—n my blood,”
he cried, “do you swim this river, or jump over it?”

The sound of a man's voice so near me, my
dangers considered, was sufficiently alarming; but
there was something in the speaker's tones that

doubled my dread; which was still further increased,
when looking in his face, I perceived to my
amazement the harsh features of the pseudo-Bloodmoney,
my fellow burglar, the redoubted Brown,
alias Captain Hellcat.

Nor was his memory a whit more backward than
my own: he recognized me in a moment, looked
astonished, and then burst into an immoderate fit of
laughter, demanding, with great emphasis, “What
cheer now, lieutenant?”