80. CHAPTER LXXX.
THE MEETING AT DONCASTLE'S ORDINARY.
At the moment when Colonel Patrick Henry arrived
with his troop in front of Doncastle's Ordinary, the company
commanded by Captain John Hamilton made their
appearance, at full gallop, coming to meet them.
In a few moments the two troops had dismounted—a host
of negroes ran to bait their weary horses—and the men of
Colonel Henry and Captain Hamilton, respectively, proceeded
to fraternize and exchange congratulations.
Our friend Captain Waters and Colonel Henry seemed to
be old acquaintances. They exchanged a hearty greeting,
and the captain seemed in high spirits.
“The sight of you is really good for sore eyes, my dear
colonel,” he said; “morbleu! I think the cards at last
shuffled and dealt! What's the number of your men?”
“About two hundred only, captain,” said Colonel Henry,
drawing round him his inseparable old red cloak; “but five
thousand I'm told are marching to join us.”
“Five thousand! why, an army! a host! With that
many, my dear friend, we will blow his Excellency sky
high.”
“Yes, I think we could drive him away.”
“ `Could!' What do you mean, colonel?”
“ `Will,' then,—if—if—unfortunately”—
“If?” said the captain anxiously. “I'm afraid of that
little word `if,' friend.”
“So am I, captain.”
“What does it mean in your mouth, mon ami? speak!”
“Well, I meant to say that the result of our march
would probably be the rout of his Excellency and his
adherents—if he does not defeat us by paying for the
powder.”
And Colonel Henry's face assumed its old grim smile as
he spoke.
“Paying,” cried Captain Waters, “paying for the powder!”
“Yes, captain.”
“Why, that would be dishonest! it would be illegal, my
dear colonel!” cried his companion. “Here this fellow
Dunmore first robs us of our property and then has the audacity
to offer us the value of the stolen goods! You
can't think of accepting such an offer!”
“I fear I must.”
“Must! why?”
“The colony would not sustain me in refusing. I should
simply be deposed from my command, and the only result
would be that some one else's signature would be appended
to the receipt. I'm not a free agent, captain. Colonel
Carter Braxton left me, some hours since, for Williamsburg,
and I promised to wait a certain time for him to go and return;
you know, Colonel Corbin, the receiver, is his relative.
Now he'll come, I predict, and bring the money.”
The captain's head drooped.
“What you say, my friend,” he muttered, mournfully,
“has caused me the very keenest anguish. It seems to me
that the result will be the escape of the wolf, just when the
chase is in full burst!”
“Exactly, captain.”
The captain remained thoughtful for a moment and
sighed. He seemed really overcome.
“And so your parole is given to Colonel Braxton, is it?”
he said.
“Yes; but in less than an hour I shall be released.”
“Released?”
“The time fixed for his return will expire then, captain.
If he did not bring the money then, I told him, I should
march.”
“You would march?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“And in less than an hour.”
The colonel nodded.
“Morbleu!” cried the captain, “you delight me, my
dear colonel! Then I'll have my good bout with Foy
yet.”
“With Foy?”
“With Mr. Secretary Foy. You see, my dear friend,
't is a little arrangement between us that, at the first open
hostilities, our swords shall cross. I'm positively sick
for the encounter, and now, since you assure me that you
march in an hour, I think the chances are favorable for the
bout!”
Colonel Henry shook his head dubiously.
“I have a presentiment, captain,” he said, “that Colonel
Braxton will return in time. He said the money would be
paid, and he'd only to go for it, and you know he's a man
of his word.”
As these words were uttered in a melancholy tone, an
expression of deep disappointment came to the captain's
face.
“He'll return with the money.”
“I'm sure of it.”
“Then all's lost!” and the captain let his chin fall on his
breast. He remained motionless and frowning for some
moments; but suddenly his frown disappeared, his head
rose:
“My dear colonel,” he cried, “you made Colonel Braxton
a promise; will you make me one, too?”
“A promise? What is it?”
“Oh, 't is nothing unreasonable, my small request. Mor
blue! 't is most fair.”
“Speak, captain.”
“Do you wish valid payment for the powder if you are
compelled to receive payment?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Then promise me that you'll only receive gold or Bank
of England notes—no promises of payment of any description
from either his Excellency, or the receiver, or Colonel
Braxton.”
Colonel Henry reflected, and the captain watched the expression
of his countenance with the deepest anxiety.
“Well,” said the colonel, “I see no objection to promising
that, and I certainly shall refuse any promissory
notes.”
“Good!” cried the captain; “and now, my dear colonel,
I will not further intrude on you. I see my friends Hamilton
and Effingham yonder coming to talk with you.”
So speaking, the captain made the military salute, sauntered
easily away, and went out of the Ordinary.
He had no sooner reached the spot where his horse was
tied, however, than, leaping into the saddle, he set forward,
at full speed, on the road to Williamsburg.
