Both supposed that they heard the footsteps of Lena-Wingo and Jo
Minturn; but a habit taught by the hard experience of the last few days
caused them to cease speaking and to listen. Only a second was needed to
tell them that strangers were approaching them, although, fortunately
they were not heading in a direct line for the place where the lovers
were sitting. Had it been otherwise, it is hard to see how they could
have escaped observation. The men were issuing from the wood and making
for the shore of the river, aiming at a point a few yards above where
Ned and Rosa were stationed. They were walking at a leisurely gait,
evidently with no suspicion that any white persons were within earshot.
Judging from the sound of feet upon the leaves, a half dozen persons
were proceeding without any caution at all, talking as freely as if
together at their own homes.
The feelings of Rosa Minturn, when she recognized the voice of the Tory
colonel, Butler, may be imagined. He was accompanied by another white
man, probably one of his officers, and several Indians, and he was
talking more freely. In the stillness of the summer night, while they
were so close at hand, it was as easy to distinguish every word uttered
as if the speech was intended for the ears of the eavesdroppers.
"We have heard so much of the smartness of that Mohawk scout that I
began to think there was something in him," said the principal member of
the party, Rosa identifying him as the detested Butler. "But I have
never seen anything myself that showed up very well on his part. Here he
is on this side of the Susquehanna, when he ought to have been at
Wilkesbarre before daylight this morning."
"We ought to have been there before that time, even," replied his
companion. "I am sure we could have played the deuce with that place, a
confounded sight better than with Wyoming, for they were so scared that
they were on the run and that's just the time to strike, you know,
colonel."
"Yes; we might have done something if we had gone over at once, but it
was some time before we learned what was going on."
"I hear they are not much better yet, and it seems to me that it is not
too late to slip our men across and clean 'em out."
But Colonel Butler was too wily to consent to any such project, although
there was reason to believe that it might have succeeded, even though
deferred till that rather late hour.
"It isn't worth our while. There's only one more of the rebels that I
want to lay hands on. Let me get that one and the rest may go."
"I think I know who it is, colonel."
"No doubt you do," was the prompt reply. "Any one who has heard me speak
within the last twenty-four hours has found it out. I tell you, captain,
that you don't often see as pretty a rebel as that young Minturn. She
slipped off last night because she found I admired her so much that I
couldn't keep my eyes from her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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