The gunshot was close by, and the horses startled. Black reined his mount in hard to stop him from bolting. Before he could turn to see if anyone was to their rear—the shot sounded as if it had come from directly behind—Washington had managed to turn his horse and take off into the woods, in the apparent direction of the gunshot, yelling, “It’s General Washington! Give aid!”
Black gestured at the three men on horseback who had been surrounding Washington but had nonetheless let him escape. “Find the gunman. Take him alive if you can. Rufus and I will go after the General.”
As he said it, he plunged his horse into the woods, with Rufus close behind.
“Why didn’t you send the others after him?” Rufus asked.
“I don’t want him shot.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Follow the broken branches. He can’t have gone far. Or maybe he’ll shout out again.”
They continued to push through the trail of broken branches for many minutes, forcing them out of the way as they passed. Every few minutes they stopped to listen, but heard nothing. Then they heard more shots. Three of them. Almost at the same moment, they came upon Washington. He was still on his horse, but his coat was torn and his face was badly scratched. His progress had clearly been arrested by the steep bank of a stream that lay directly in front of him.
He turned and looked at them. “You have caught me, it appears.”
“Why did you try this?” Black asked. “You had little chance of success.”
“I am a soldier. It’s a soldier’s duty to try to escape, Colonel. My guards seemed distracted by the sudden gunshot. I thought it might have come from one of my own guard coming after me. I rode back from whence we came, towards where I thought they might be.”
“We’re going to ride back to the place we were,” Black said, “with one of us in front of you and one of us behind. If you flee again, I will find you again and shoot you.” Even as he said it, he realized that he probably wouldn’t, but he thought it worth saying.
“We should tie his hands,” Rufus said. “Or he will surely try again.”
“I don’t want to, for the same reasons as before. Maybe another way will work.” He turned to Washington. “Excellency, will you give me your word—as an officer and a gentleman—that you will not try to escape again? If you will do that, I will leave you untied and without a heavy boot on your leg.”
Washington thought a moment. “I will give you my word while we are here in America. If you manage to get me to London, I make no such pledge.”
“That will do for now.”
“I still don’t trust him,” Rufus said.
“It’s enough for me,” Black said.
They reversed their path through the branches, but heard no more gunshots. When they arrived at the clearing from which they’d started out, they helped Washington down from his horse. Just then the three men that Black had sent in pursuit of the gunman returned. There was a body slung sideways over one of the horses.
Black dismounted and walked over. It was Bear.
Two of the other men came over to the horse, hoisted Bear up and laid him on his back on the ground. Black could see that the man was close to finished. His breathing was laboured and raspy, and blood soaked his shirt. Black pulled Bear’s shirt from his belt, which revealed a gaping, bloody hole in his stomach.
“Why did you have to shoot him?” he asked. “We might have learned something from him about those who may be pursuing us.”
“There was no choice,” one of the men said. “It was him or one of us.”
Black said nothing in response. He had had enough experience of battle to know that if you weren’t there when it happened, you had no right to ask the details. Men did what they thought they had to do to live.
He bent down until he was almost in Bear’s face. “How long have you been following us?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. His voice was faint, almost impossible to hear.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I wasn’t.” His breath was coming harder.
“You should kill him,” Rufus said.
“Which way did the soldiers go to look for the General?”
“Most went towards New York.”
“What about the rest?”
Bear struggled to answer, but his body went suddenly limp, and only a rattle emerged. The first time Black had seen death take a man, he had been surprised that a rattle actually came out. Now he knew to expect it. He got up and said, “He’s gone.”
“There is something you should see,” one of the men said. He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out two leather helmets, each topped by a white feather plume, tipped in blue. On one of them, a small red feather had been stuck amidst the white ones. “These must have fallen from their heads, maybe taken off by overhanging branches, and were left behind in their haste to leave.”
“Where did you find them?” Black asked.
“Just off the trail, a few feet from where the dead man fell.”
“Where exactly?”
“Behind him, from the direction he’d come.”
“Did you see any footprints leading away?”
The man looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. We didn’t look.”
“Why does this matter?” Rufus asked.
“I’ve seen helmets like these before on the heads of men patrolling as part of the Commander-in-Chief Guard. One of them even had the small red feather. This means that Bear wasn’t alone. We need to worry where the men who were with him—or maybe they were following him—went.”
“If they’re part of the Guard, why did they let Bear shoot at Washington?” Rufus asked.
“Maybe Bear wasn’t the shooter, and maybe Washington wasn’t the target. Maybe it was me. Or you, Rufus.”
Washington, who had been sitting propped against a tree, spoke up. “I can tell you about the red feather. It’s given to men in my Guard in whom I place special trust. The fact that one of them is on our trail is good reason for you to let me go now—if you value your life.”
Black laughed. “I think not.”
“Laugh now, but when you’re caught and are about to swing from a gibbet, it will be no laughing matter.”
“We need to go,” Black said.
Rufus pointed at Bear’s body and said, “We owe him a burial before we go.”
“There’s no time, Rufus. Anyway, we owe him nothing.” He looked over at the men who had brought Bear’s body in. “Drag him into the woods as far as you can go and cover him up with wet leaves. On your way out, take branches and smooth over your tracks.” He paused. “But before you cover him over, put a bullet in his head. I want to be sure this time.”
He turned to Washington. “Excellency, as we reach more populated areas, we may come upon more people and some may recognize you. If you call out to them for help, and they respond, we’re going to shoot them.”
“To harm them would be a violation of the laws of war.”
“Perhaps so. But many hereabouts are involved in traitorous acts, and they are within the sovereignty jurisdiction of His Majesty, King George III. How he chooses to deal with them is not covered by the laws of war. This is an unlawful rebellion, not a war.”
Washington stared at him for a moment then said, “This is a just Revolution that will sound down the ages. In the moment, though, if you harm a hair on the heads of the people we may come upon, I will see you hanged.”
“Their safety is in your hands, General.”
Washington nodded, but didn’t otherwise respond, and continued to hold Black in his gaze.
Black broke the stare off first and looked away, then turned to two of the men in uniform, who, along with everyone else in their entourage, had been frozen in place, watching the confrontation.
“You two,” he said, “take the helmets with the feathers and wear them for the duration. If anyone asks, you’re part of the Commander-in-Chief’s Life Guard.”
Fifteen minutes later—Bear’s body disposed of in the woods as ordered—they mounted and left. As they rode out, Black could not help but look back over his shoulder. He had the sense they were being followed, but couldn’t say exactly why, other than to dwell on the apparent escape of the men who had somehow lost their helmets.
* * *
Overall, the ride to the beach, which had required still one more night’s stay in a barn, turned out to be surprisingly free of new problems. Black had even begun to relax about being followed—partly because he had twice sent riders back to check the trail behind them. They returned each time saying that they had seen nothing of note and no one of interest. Partly he felt more at ease simply because, since Bear’s death, no additional trouble had come. The latter reason was foolish, of course. Trouble, when it came, oft came unheralded.
Black had worried that some interaction between Washington and residents of the area would lead to trouble. As it turned out, though, they met relatively few people along the way, partly because they were frequently able to make progress after dark and thus avoid much travel at the height of the day. Too, the steady rain seemed to have kept many people off the road. On the few occasions when they did come upon someone, people seemed to shrink back. Black assumed that at least some of them did recognize Washington, both by his height and his uniform, but wanted to stay as far as possible from the soldiers with the special helmets. The Life Guards’ fierce reputation apparently preceded them.
Nor, to Black’s relief, did Washington himself take the opportunity to shout out who he was. Perhaps the General had taken to heart Black’s threat to harm civilians. Or maybe Washington feared dying in the melee that would surely erupt if someone tried to intervene? Black dismissed the thought out of hand. Whatever Washington was, he had surely demonstrated himself to be no coward. Most likely, Washington just assumed there would be a better opportunity to escape later. Black had never quite believed his pledge not to try.
Black understood, though, that they had also been the beneficiaries of simple good fortune. Now the question was whether their luck would continue once they reached the beach, which they came upon towards nightfall on the fourth day. They recognized it at a distance by spying the more or less straight line of trees that bordered it. Once they saw them, Black and Rufus rode forward, leaving Washington behind, closely guarded, and Black was quickly able to spot the sand through the bare branches of the trees. “Rufus, are you certain we’ve come back to the right beach?” he asked.
“Yes. I can make out the two huge rocks that mark it.”
“Ah, yes. I see them now.”
“Colonel, by my count, this is the eighth night, is it not?”
“Yes. Assuming the ship is still out there.”
“So you’ve made it.”
Rufus looked out to sea. “A very large storm is brewing. Look at the size of the breakers and the swell of the sea. I wonder if a rowboat can land at all.”
Black peered out towards the ocean. “Well, if they cannot get in tonight, perhaps they will come back for me tomorrow night, the ninth night but what would be only the eighth attempt.”
“That would mean staying here another night.”
“Yes.”
“When the boat arrives, Colonel, do you intend to take men with you other than Washington?”
“No. The rowers are young and strong and can supply all the help I will need to control Washington.” He paused. “Wait. Do you want to come with me, Rufus? You can if you wish.”
“Ah, no. This is my country. There would be nothing for me in England. Win or lose, here I stay.”
Black suddenly stiffened. “Rufus, there are men walking from the tree line out onto the beach.”
“They are ours, I am quite sure.”
“How do you know?”
“I sent a messenger ahead, that first night we spent in the barn after taking the General, and asked that they come here at dusk each night for a week. There are many towns around here that are Loyalist through and through.”
“Do these people know what we are about?”
“No, of course not.”
“How can you be sure that’s who these men are? That there are not rebels mixed in amongst them?”
Rufus sighed. “To put your mind at ease, I will go and check.” He moved off down the beach.
He came back a few minutes later. “All ours, Colonel.”
“I continue to have the feeling we are being followed.”
“I saw no one except those I know, and they will not bother us or the boat when it comes in.”
Just then, a very large wave smashed onto the beach with a roar. Black felt its spray on his face, even though it broke at least a hundred feet away.
Rufus looked out to sea again. “The wind is still rising and the rain is starting to come down in buckets. This is going to be a gale. Even if they do get a boat in, I fear it will capsize or be swamped on the way back to the ship.”
“Let us hope not. But assuming the boat arrives, I have no choice but to get in.” He looked out again at the boiling sea. “If they come at all.”
“Can you swim, Colonel?”
“Not very well.”
“Can Washington?”
He shook his head back and forth. “I have no idea.”