As they walked across the field and left the house behind, the rain that Rufus had promised began. It brought with it a ground-hugging mist that blocked sight and muffled sound.
Washington walked just ahead of him, but Black could barely make out the General’s back. Three others walked immediately in front, with Rufus—just a shadow really—leading the way.
If ever the man were going to run for it, this was the time.
“Men,” Black said, “guard the prisoner close.”
Two of the three who’d been in front dropped back immediately, one on each side. It still did not seem adequate to him.
Shortly after they reached the woods, where the mist began to clear, they were joined by five more men—just as Rufus had promised—who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Each was wearing an American army uniform. They immediately reinforced the guard around Washington.
Black sighed in relief. His prisoner was not going to escape tonight, even though Black had chosen not to bind his hands, thinking that on the rough terrain, Washington might fall and would then have no way to catch himself. Bringing a dead or injured man back to London was not his plan. He also removed the gag, because the man seemed to be choking and gagging badly on it.
Rufus seemed to know a way back with fewer towns and led on without hesitation, despite the dark and the rain. As they walked, Washington said nothing, but slogged along with the rest of them. The trail was turning to mud, and their boots were soon covered with it, while their coats and hats dripped a steady stream of water. Washington had no coat, and Black could see that he had hunched his shoulders up against the cold.
Black stopped from time to time to try to listen, letting the others get a few yards ahead. He expected to hear pursuers—perhaps a shout or a shot—but all he heard was the rain. They marched for what seemed like hours, yet no one accosted them. Perhaps the ruse had worked.
They stopped a few times to eat and drink. The new men had brought hard tack, bread and beer. At one point, when they were sitting across from one another, Washington asked him, “Where are we really going?”
There was no reason now not to tell him. “To London.”
“To what end?”
“Your sovereign will have you tried for high treason.”
Washington paused a moment and said, “He is perhaps your sovereign, but he is no longer mine. He has forfeited the right. We made that clear in our declaration.”
Black had always been uncomfortable with political argument, and he didn’t wish to begin arguing now. He said only, “This is something you can argue in London, Excellency.”
“Assuming you get me there.”
“Yes, assuming that.”
He became aware that several of the men had clustered around them and had to have overheard the conversation. There was muttering and cursing amongst them. If they shared Bear’s views, there was nothing he would be able to do to stop them from killing the General and burying him in the woods. Or leaving him for the vultures.
Rufus had apparently much the same fear. He appeared out of the crowd and said, “We need to move on.”
They stopped that night at an abandoned barn, which had been stocked with food and drink, stacks of dry clothes and horses for all. Black admired the planning that had gone into the mission and wondered how many people were involved. The more there were, the more chance someone would sell them out.
Rufus approached him and said, “Despite the risk, I think we must build a fire, or we shall all die of consumption. Especially him.” He pointed at Washington, who had yet to remove his soaked clothes. “General,” he said, handing Washington some clothes, “these clothes are not wet.”
Washington stared at them and said, “I will not replace the uniform of my country with these civilian rags.”
“You may catch your death of cold, Excellency,” Rufus said.
“Then so be it. I am prepared to die for my country here and now. Such a death might well be preferable to being taken to London. Others will carry on the glorious struggle without me. My own fate matters not.”
“If we build a fire, will you at least agree to sit by it?” Black asked.
Washington didn’t answer even though he was shivering.
They built the fire, and in the end Washington sat by it and dried out. He also accepted an overcoat that had been left for them. Black assumed his choice not to fall ill and to accept the coat meant that he was still of a mind to escape if he could.
He pointed out to Rufus that a more regulation way to guard the prisoner would be to gird him about with an inner circle of men, and then position the others at some distance in an outer circle. That way, if he managed to break free of the inner circle, he could still be quickly caught. Shortly after, Black saw that Rufus had repositioned the men as he had suggested.
The next day went better. The rain abated to an occasional drizzle and the temperature warmed a little. That second night, they slept in another old barn that someone had again presupplied with food, water and fresh horses. Earlier in the day, they also acquired two outriders, who rode ahead of them and came back from time to time to warn them of people on the road, whereupon they would ride a ways into the woods so as to not be seen. And if they were seen, well, they were most of them in American army uniforms, including Black, who had changed back.
Washington no longer looked ill and no longer shivered. He still said little, and responded to questions only in monosyllables. Attempts to engage him in conversation failed.
Black kept a close eye on him. On several occasions, when Washington thought no one was paying attention, Black caught him looking around intently, especially as they passed through or near a town. But he made no effort to bolt.
Towards the end of the second day, Black rode up next to Rufus, who was mounted that day on a horse that was tethered to Washington’s horse, and said, “Too many people now know about this. The outriders, the people who have supplied the barns for us, these guards.” He waved towards the men girding their prisoner.
“Perhaps. But there was no way to get this done without support.”
“You’re confident in these people to keep quiet?”
“For now. Once we have him on the ship and away, they will probably brag to people about their role.”
“Which would be at their peril.”
“Yes, and mine.”
Washington spoke for the first time that day. “Both your army and mine are riddled with spies. And people who talk. None of this is likely secret even at this moment. You will not get me on whatever ship you have brought without a fierce fight.”
“I think we will, Excellency.”
“I have thought about what this is all about,” he said. “I assume you are taking me to London, not to hang me, but to force a negotiation.”
“About what?” Black asked.
“About the offer of settlement that was made last year by a commission you sent to Philadelphia. Which was rejected out of hand, with my blessing.”
Black thought quickly. There was no point in telling him what he knew about Lord North’s actual plans. “I am of too lowly a rank for their plans to be shared with me,” he said. “I am simply to get you to London, and I will.”
Washington went quiet and seemed lost in thought as they rode along. Black assumed he had finished what he had to say. Finally, though, he said, “If you release me, I will promise you on my honour as a soldier and a gentleman that I will try to persuade the Continental Congress to treat with any peace delegation your country sends.”
Rufus broke in. “You have not the power to make that happen.”
“I can be persuasive. And your having captured me and then let me go will be taken as a sign of good faith.”
“I hear the Continental Congress does not trust you,” Rufus said. “And that many there dislike you and think you power hungry.”
Washington glowered at him. “You hear wrong.” The words had practically exploded out of his mouth. Perhaps the General wasn’t used to hearing such direct criticism.
Shortly after, they stopped for a break. Black left Washington on the horse, guarded by one of the soldiers, and beckoned Rufus to a small grove of trees where they could talk without being overheard. “I am surprised he has made no move to escape,” Black said.
“He’s probably biding his time till he sees a good opportunity.”
“Perhaps we should secure him further, Rufus. A boot on his leg, as the one Mary put on me?”
“No. For if we must at some point make a quick getaway on foot, he will be too much hobbled, whereas a gun at his back will move him along quite nicely.”
“Unless he wishes to die,” Black said.
“A man who has come this far in life and done what he has done will have no wish to die, to my thinking.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the crack of a gun and the sound of a ball thudding into a tree nearby.