Commodore Barney's Young Spies: A Boy's Story of the Burning of the City of Washington — John Shaqi
Commodore Barney's Young Spies: A Boy's Story of the Burning of the City of WashingtonOtis, James
History
Commodore Barney's Young Spies: A Boy's Story of the Burning of the City of Washington
Otis, James
Washington (D.C.) -- History -- Capture by the British, 1814 -- Juvenile fiction
"Keep close at my heels," he whispered, and then he plunged into the
darkness, we obeying his command to the letter, for a mis-step might
throw us into the mill-race, which we could hear rippling close at
hand.
One would have said that the old man had always lived in this place,
so directly and swiftly did he go to the desired point, which was a
portion of the flooring where was a trap-door, evidently used to dump
the refuse, for suddenly we found ourselves climbing up a heap of what
appeared to be husks and cobs of corn.
It was a simple task to gain entrance to the building in this manner,
for Darius had only to force the trap-door up with his shoulder, and
in a twinkling we were standing on the lower floor, near-by what I
took to be the hopper.
Touching each of us in turn that we might be warned to follow closely,
Darius led the way to the easterly end of the building, where he
halted at the foot of a flight of stairs.
Now he marshaled his force according to the weapons. Jerry was behind
him; I came next, determined to use my musket as a club so long as it
could be done, rather than take the risk of killing a man, and in the
rear of me was Josiah Coburn, one of Jim Freeman's party.
Now it must be understood that we could see nothing; the darkness was
so intense that one could almost feel it, and yet we proposed to
blunder in upon enemies who would probably shoot without warning in
the direction of the slightest suspicious noise.
It was not a cheerful adventure, and I hold myself well excused for
being frightened, so that I followed the leader's orders implicitly to
the best of my ability.
Just at this point, when we were trembling with suppressed excitement,
and, as in my case, fear, Darius remembered that he had not unlocked
the outer door in order that Jim might hide within the building, and
we were forced to stand at the foot of the stairs while he groped his
way back to remedy the neglect.
It seemed to me that we remained there hardly daring to breathe, a
full half-hour, although I suppose now that it was no more than five
minutes, and then our leader was returned.
Pushing his way to the head of the line once more, we began the ascent
of the stairs, each fellow stepping cautiously; but despite all our
efforts each board sent forth loud protesting creaks as we bore our
weight upon it, and the only wonder was that the Britishers did not
awaken sooner.
The noise we made in ascending the stairs seemed to me loud enough to
alarm the inmates of the house near at hand, and, therefore, I was
neither startled nor surprised when some person at one end of the
second floor, cried out:
"Who is there? What's the row?"
"Can't you give your shipmates the same show for a watch below that
you've got?" Darius asked with a regular deep-sea note in his voice,
and this it was that gave us a slight advantage, since the men did not
open fire.
"How did you get here?" the same voice asked, and again the old man
answered as if speaking to shipmates:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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