University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.
In which Robin retrieves his reputation in the opinion of Dicky
Dare, and is restored to the friendship of that heroic adventurer.

“Oh, Dicky!” cried I, “do you mean to murder
me?”—a question for which there was good reason,
as my martial friend was in a towering passion, and
still brandished his cut-and-thrust about my ears, as
if half of a mind to carve me to pieces.

“Robin Day!” quoth he, in equal astonishment:—
“may I never smell gunpowder, by Julius Cæsar, if
I didn't think you were some flying jailbird of a
prisoner of war, or a rascal broke loose from a county
prison, or some such rabblement stuff—to run away
in such a cowardly style, when I only wanted to ask
about the road! But I say, by Julius Cæsar, what are
you doing here?”

It was some time before I could reply to the question,
so great was the ferment of joy into which I
was thrown by this happy encounter; for in the presence
of Dicky I saw a release from every affliction,
a protection from every danger.

“Oh, Dicky,” said I, “fate has sent you here to
help me out of the greatest difficulty—as great an
one perhaps as that you saved me from, when I was
taken prisoner by that caitiff, Duck, and accused of
high-treason. I shall never forget your kindness,
that time, in saving me from a court-martial.”

“Sir,” said Dicky, in a lofty way, “that was in
memory of our old friendship; but I beg you to
observe that I am not to be called upon to interpose
in your favour, under such circumstances, a second
time. Friendship, sir, is one thing; but honour,
sir, by Julius Cæsar, honour is another.”

“Yes,” said I, “Dicky, it is: but I hope you
don't regret saving me from being shot or hanged?
I'm sure I would have done as much for you.”

“Oh,” said Dicky, “as it turned out, I don't
think they would have altogether made it out so
bad a case for you at the court-martial; because that
rascal Duck that accused you, was a traitor himself.”

“Yes,” said I, “he was; he piloted the British
up and down the Bay, to all the towns.”

“Exactly so,” said Dicky; “the prisoners we
took informed against him; and in less than an hour
after you were gone, we had the dog arrested, to
stand his trial; and I believe they hanged him, or
intended to do so.”

“I hope so,” said I, devoutly. “And as for my
being a traitor, I think I can prove to your satisfaction
I was a very innocent one.”

“If you can, by Julius Cæsar,” said Dicky Dare,
with generous impetuosity, “I shall shake hands
with you, and be very good friends with you;
though, sir, I'll be hanged if I think as much of your
spunk as I used to do.”

“Oh,” said I, “I can explain that too.”

“Very well,” said Dicky; “you can explain
along the road, and no time lost, as we go to breakfast;
for I understand, there's a tavern only two or
three miles ahead, where we can eat; and, by Julius
Cæsar I'm hungry.”

I told him I was too tired, having been on foot
all the night, and must have a little rest.

And with that, I invited him to dismount and tie
his horse, and take a seat by me on a log; and, to
show him he need not concern himself about his
breakfast, I instantly produced a store of cold
chicken-legs and other dainties from my pocket,
which I invited him to share with me.

“A soldier,” quoth Dicky Dare, “can ask no better
breakfast, or place to eat it. I remember, dad
told me that General Marion used to dine off a log
in a swamp, and feed on parched corn and sweet
potatoes.”

And so saying, the young soldier dismounted,
unbitted his nag, who straightway fell to work upon
the young twigs and bushes around: while his master,
with equal appetite, addressed himself to the
nobler provender drawn from the larder of Mr.
Feverage.

During the meal, I acquainted him with all my
adventures from the time of our separation on the
highway, up to the moment of our second parting
on the field of battle; upon all which, as well as
upon my conduct in them, he commented in a very
free and characteristic way. He expressed great
contempt of my pusillanimity in allowing myself to
be seized by the wagoners, and contrasted with it
his own courageous and successful resistance of those
zealous thief-takers, of which I was now informed
for the first time. He highly commended the address
and spirit of Captain Brown in shuffling the
change of robbery upon my shoulders, and then riding
off with my horse; an act, he averred, I should,
and easily might have prevented by blowing his
brains out. My further adventures with Captain
Brown, he considered very extraordinary, as, indeed,
I did myself, both from the audacity of Captain
Brown and my own stupidity in allowing myself

to be so easily imposed upon. But when I came to
inform him how I had mistaken the British sailors
for American militia-men, without perceiving the
error until charging with them against my own
countrymen, and how I had pretended to volunteer
in their service, only to secure an opportunity of
escape, his surprise was only exceeded by his indignation.
He swore by Julius Cæsar, seven times
over, I was the biggest ninny in warlike matters,
and, he believed, in all others, the world had ever
produced—a compliment which I took without offence;
for I was, in truth, so happy to fall in with
him, and so deeply persuaded of the superiority of
his genius, that I could have borne even much more
disparagement without repining. Besides, I was
more than half persuaded he charged nothing more
than was true.

Then followed my final adventure with Captain
Brown, the story of the disguise and the Magian
medicines; at which, for the first time (for Dicky
had put on the gravity of the soldier,) he indulged
in a violent fit of laughter, and swore, by Julius
Cæsar, that “Brown was a comical dog,” and that I,
in the part of a quack doctor, had hit upon a character
the best suited to my genius; “because,” said
he, “by Julius Cæsar, I'll be hanged if you'll ever
make a soldier.”

Last of all came that climax of wonder and
atrocity, my being sold to slavery; at which Dicky,
giving the reins to his mirth, laughed with such
furious energy, that the sorrel nag, who had strayed
away some little distance, browsing, came trotting
and whinnying back, as if to know what was the
matter. Nor was he less diverted at my escape, and
the incidents attending it, especially that of the
chocolate pot; though he immediately threw me into

a panic by asking, if it had not occurred to me,
that, in thus drugging it, I might possibly have murdered
some of my master's family? or, at the very
least, might bring myself under a charge of an intention
to murder them?

It was now Dicky's turn to relate his adventures,
in which there was nothing near so remarkable as
in mine. He had reached Philadelphia in safety,
where, having the good fortune to receive a letter
from his father, with a further supply of money, and
being no longer able to resist the inclination to put
on a soldier's coat along with the soldier's spirit, he
ordered a military suit; and when it was completed,
left the city, and (as Mr. John Dabs had truly informed
me,) left it only a day before myself. He
had spurred for the theatre of war, but in vain
sought an opportunity of measuring his sword with
the enemy, until his good fortune carried him to
Norfolk, in time to assist its brave defenders in repelling
the invaders from their shores. His company
consisted only of some score idlers and tatterdemalions,
supernumeraries and volunteers in that particular
battle, who, collecting in a hurry, and having
no commander of their own, had willingly accepted
the martial-looking Dicky for their leader. He had
received a wound, a scratch in the leg, of which he
was uncertain whether it was owing to a British
bullet, or to a tumble he had had over a stump, in
the fury of the charge; nevertheless, he prided himself
on it, as being the first hurt received in the wars.
This battle began and ended Dicky's campaigns in
Virginia; for, saving the horrible affair at Hampton,
three days after, at which he was not present,
nothing more was done by the enemy to afford him
an opportunity to display his valour; and, soon after,

the British fleet deserted the waters of the Chesapeake
entirely.

Dicky, I found, was now on his way to the southwest.
Troubles were brewing, he said, on the
Indian border; and wise men looked soon to see the
chief theatre of war transferred to the delta of the
Mississippi. In either case, he observed there
would be plenty of fighting; “and where there's
plenty of fighting,” said my heroic friend, gnawing
the last morsel from a chicken-bone, “there, sir, by
Julius Cæsar, there is the place for me.”

I told him at once, I would go along with him,
and fight the battles of my country at his side; upon
which there arose a controversy between us, he assuring
me he thought I was too big a coward for a
soldier, and I insisting, with heat, that I had as much
courage as he; for, he knew, I had as good as
trounced him a dozen times at school.

“I don't know any such thing,” said Dicky Dare;
“though I allow, you always fought me spunky.
But this fighting a school-fight, and this fighting the
battles of your country—by Julius Cæsar, they are
quite different matters. There are some fellows that
have great pluck for a war of fisticuffs, and will stand
hammering like old iron; but when you put them
before the muzzle of a musket, with a man's finger
at the trigger—or a park of artillery, with the matches
all smoking—or a squadron of horse drawn up
ready for charging—why then, by Julius Cæsar,
these fisticuff bulldogs are exactly the fellows to fall
all of a tremble, and run off like so many rats before
a bull-terrier. It's the seeing one's blood flow, and
feeling the pain of a wound, that tries what stuff one's
liver is made of. As for me, sir, by Julius Cæsar,
I have had an enemy's bullet through the leg, without
minding it!”

“Or you scratched it over a stump, as you admitted
of your own accord was probable,” said I. “And
if you come to that, I have had a severer wound
than you; for I was knocked on the head with the
butt of an Irishman's musket, which broke my head
open, and I was laid up six weeks by it in the doctor's
hands.”

“I allow,” said Dicky Dare, “you have had the
hardest knock: but how did you take it? there's the
question.”

“I took it I don't know how,” said I, “for it
knocked me out of my senses; but all the sailors said
I was as brave as a lion. And besides, if you come
to that, you have been in action but once; whereas
I have been three times in battle.”

“But how did you go into battle?” demanded
Dicky: “did you feel proud, and happy, and furious,
and all that?”

“No,” said I; “I felt uneasy.”

“To be sure you did!” said Dicky, with disdain;
“and that's not the way a brave man feels.”

“I have no doubt,” said I, “I should have felt
proud, and happy, and furious, and all that, had I
been on the right side; but, I fancy, if you had been,
like me, fighting against your country, you would
have felt uneasy too.”

“And so I should,” said the soldier, with generous
frankness; “I forgot you were fighting against your
country; which must make even a brave man a coward.
But, I say, Robin,” he added, “by Julius
Cæsar! you were so terribly frightened at all these
other matters—so frightened about roasting that old
tyrant, M'Goggin—frightened at Brown and the
wagoners—frightened at Mr. Bloodmoney—frightened
at John Dabs, the constable—frightened when
we took you prisoner—frightened when you were

sold a slave—and, by Julius Cæsar, you are so frightened
now that you have run away! I say, by Julius
Cæsar, I don't think a fellow that gets frightened so
often, can have the true grit in him, after all.”

“Oh,” said I, “Dicky, fear in such cases is not
cowardice. Every man is afraid of getting into the
hands of the law—of being put into prison, tried for
felony, and perhaps brought to the gallows. In all
these cases, you must see, I had the dangers of the
law behind me. With the wagoners and John Dabs,
I was in fear of being carried back to our town to be
hanged for murder; with Mr. Bloodmoney, of being
imprisoned for house breaking; and, to skip all
other matters, here I am now in fear of being pursued
as a runaway slave, or laid up by the heels for a
swindler.”

“By Julius Cæsar, that does alter the case,” said
my friend; “for I recollect, when I left our town,
I was afraid, myself, of having the constables after
me: though, I tell you what,” he added, with a grim
look of fortitude, “before they should have taken me,
there would have been a fight, and some body's
brains blown out, by Julius Cæsar.”

My ingenious defence, by which I was half convinced
myself, satisfied the valorous Dicky that I
was yet worthy of his friendship; whereupon he
gave me his hand, and said I should follow him to
the wars. He bade me discharge from my mind all
fear of Mr. Feverage and his emissaries; “for,” said he,
“if the worst comes, we can fight them off, by Julius
Cæsar.” He then asked “how I was off for money;”
and being assured I had, in all my troubles, held fast
to my pocket book, he expressed great satisfaction;
“for,” said he, “you can now buy a horse and arms,
and so travel onwards like a soldier.” And thereupon
he bade me for the future “cease calling him

Dicky, like a great schoolboy, and desired I would
address him as Captain Dare; “because why, by Julius
Cæsar, he had on a captain's uniform; and every
body was a captain in Virginia.”

Inspired by the presence of my martial friend,
and refreshed by the meal, I now professed myself
able to resume the march; Dicky very generously
offering me his horse, till more thoroughly rested,
which, however, I refused. He, therefore, mounted
the saddle himself; and I walking at his side, we left
the wood and returned to the highway.