The Young Continentals at Monmouth

For a moment Ben Cooper was so startled that he could not speak, and his astonishment was as plain in his face as in his manner. It was perhaps fortunate for him that a turmoil in the room took Bleekwood’s attention from him, otherwise he would have undoubtedly attracted that person’s attention in a way that he would not have cared to do.

The turmoil grew louder, high voices became higher; the inn people were clustering about in a fright; but still Ben gave it no attention. His brain was so busy with some truths which had just dawned upon him, and for the time he knew nothing else.

“Beware of a man named Seaforth, and of the Crossed Keys,” had been the warning of Johnson Quinsey. And within a very few hours afterward the lad had been mistaken for Seaforth, had been directed to a place which turned out to be an inn called the “Crossed Keys,” and Bleekwood, the man whom Seaforth was apparently to meet, had mistaken Paddy Burk for Ben himself.

“Now let me get it clear in my mind,” was the boy’s thought. “There is some sort of a plan against me by Hawkins and his confederates; a part of this was heard in some chance way by Johnson Quinsey. This scout, Seaforth, is a friend to the enemies of General Washington; and he was the man sent for to ride to York to-night; of that I am confident. One other was to bear him company; he was to have the selection of that other, and I am convinced that it was to have been I. But, as it chanced, he was gone when his orders came; and by a still greater chance, I was selected in his place. And, now, here I am face to face with the agent of the plotters, if not one of them; and he, not knowing Seaforth except by name, thinks I am he. And poor Paddy, who stands so innocently beyond there, is placed in the danger that should be mine.”

But his attention was drawn from Paddy at that instant by an increase in the disturbance before mentioned. All eyes were turned in the direction of the uproar, and well they might, for never before was there so much noise by one person. It was a gigantic young man with an inflamed face and a reckless air; he seemed possessed by alternate spirits of destruction, mirth and combat. First he would lift a heavy oaken chair and dash it to pieces against the stout walls; then, as though highly amused at his own performance, he would burst into a gale of laughter; and a moment later, his humor changing, he would brandish his enormous fists in the faces of those nearest him and dare them to grapple or fisticuff with him. But all declined the invitation with much promptness, at which the young giant resumed his work of destruction once more.

Finally, unable to bear it longer, the landlord approached.

“What’s this, sir?” demanded he with an air of assurance, which he, perhaps, was far from feeling. “Must you break up my furnishing, young gentleman? Has a madness come upon you that you should do the like? Have done, sir; have done at once.”

The young giant glared at him; here at length, so it seemed, was one who would oppose him.

“Ah, so you are there, are you, mine host of the Crossed Keys?” cried he, delighted at the prospect of having some one at whom to level his humor and perhaps receive his blows. “And so you object to my amusing myself, eh?”

“I object to your destroying my property, sir,” said the host. “It is a wanton injustice to do such a thing in a peaceable house. Have done, sir. The damage already here will cost a pretty penny!”

“What, would so brawny a fellow as yourself cry out about an injustice?” demanded the giant. “Would you prefer to make a complaint of the tongue rather than one of the hand? Surely a fist like that of yours was made for brisker work than you do. Come then,” and here he shattered another chair upon the oaken floor. “You will do something to prevent the like again, I’m sure.”

“I am not given to the bandying of blows,” said the landlord, who for all his bulk was soft and ill conditioned. “It is not my trade, sir; I ask you if you be a gentleman to cease your mad behavior.”

And with this mild admonition, the host, seeing his obstreperous guest advancing toward him, retreated down the room in the direction of the table at which sat Ben Cooper and Master Bleekwood. The latter turned nervously to the boy, and said:

“One always meets with conduct such as this in a crowded inn. It is most unseemly and objectionable; and its effect upon my weakened nervous state is ill, indeed.”

As the landlord’s retreat was a trifle hasty, the advance of the giant did not come up with him; he had entered the kitchen and closed the door by the time his pursuer had covered half the distance, and so the huge young man leaned against a table and held forth as to cowardice.

“He who will not risk his great carcass in defense of his property is a poltroon,” delivered he, loudly. “If any were to do the like by me, I’d fight him if I had but one leg to stand on.”

As it chanced the table against which he leaned was that of Bleekwood and Ben; and as he continued to volley forth, the former touched him upon the arm and ventured mildly:

“I ask your pardon, sir, but if you have no very serious objections would you select another leaning place?” And as the giant turned and glared down at him, he hastily continued as though in explanation: “You see, your present attitude is somewhat interfering with my comfort, and as I am a person of no very robust health I must look to it that my comfort is not taken from me.”

“Ah,” said the giant, “and so you must look to your comfort, must you? Well, Mr. Longshanks, I’ll see what I can do to aid you in that.” And with that he stretched out one huge hand, gripped Master Bleekwood and dragged him to his feet. “Your comfort must not be interfered with, do you say, my gentleman?” demanded the giant. “Ah, well, let us see what can be done to add to it, for one like you should be coddled, indeed.”

“Sir,” spoke Master Bleekwood, not making a move in his captor’s grasp, “this is most undignified. Release your grasp upon my shoulder, I beg of you.”

“Not until you have asked my pardon upon your knees,” said the giant. “I feel, good sir, that I have been most grossly insulted, and if this is not——”

Suddenly Master Bleekwood’s whole aspect changed; with a tremendous wrench he freed himself from the grasp of the other, and with a deftness that could only have been gained by long experience, he spun about and planted a half dozen short, powerful blows upon the man’s face. With the blood streaming from mouth and nose, and roaring with pain, the young giant steadied himself for a rush. But before he could make a move a door behind him opened, and a strong girl with red hair and a freckled, good-looking face stepped into the room.

“Gintlemen, gintlemen!” she cried, with a brogue as thick as Paddy Burk’s own, “will you give over your noise? Sure, how in the world can a poor wounded officer on his way home to his ould father get a wink of sleep if you go on like this? Is it a bedlam instead of a decent inn that we’ve got into?” Then her quick, bright eye noting that the giant was responsible for most of the turmoil, she marched sturdily to his side. “Young gintleman,” she continued, “will you close your mouth and give over your great talk? Is it do harm by your noise to a soldier, who got his hurts in his country’s cause, you’d be doing?”

The young man turned his inflamed face upon her.

“Take yourself off, you kitchen wench,” he growled. “Hold your tongue, while I grind the bones of yon pretty gentleman.”

But the freckle-faced lass was not to be daunted by a savage tone of voice.

“Is it me you call a kitchen wench?” she demanded, her arms akimbo. “And I’m to hold my tongue as well, am I? Well, sir, I’ll not do that, but,” and with a swift movement she suited the action to the words, “I’ll take hold of your ear for you, you villain of the world.”

Taken aback, the giant glowered.

“Let go, you virago!” he shouted.

“Sit down!” ordered she, shoving him into a chair. “And stay there! Faith, it’s ashamed of yourself you ought to be, to be after raising such a pother about the place. Keep quiet now, for if it’s again I have to come out to you, it’s the back of my hand I’ll give you, so it is.”

And with that and a whisk of her short skirts she was gone. And as she departed the landlord reappeared armed with a stout staff and backed by a number of his ablest waiters and hostlers, also armed. But the blows of Master Bleekwood, and the fearless front of the Irish girl had had their effect upon the giant, for he kept his chair quietly enough; what remained of his humor was vented in a low muttering, the purport of which was not intelligible.

And after things were fairly quiet once more, Ben Cooper spoke to Bleekwood.

“It were a thousand pities, sir, that your health is not what it should be. Otherwise you would be able to resent such affronts as that fellow put upon you.”

The lad spoke drily; there was a suspicion of mockery in his eyes.

“Why, as for that,” said the man, “I have often thought that health is a thing greatly to be desired. But it is a boon not meant for me, that I sadly fear. If I were possessed of it, I might be able to do some little thing to protect myself; but as it is——” and he shook his head and sighed.

This, then, was a favorite pose of the melancholy Bleekwood; he desired to seem backward in any matter requiring physical effort, and a nervous weakling in things calling for courage.

“But,” thought the lad who sat near him, “he is a pretty fighter enough. Indeed, I would say that it would go extremely hard with any but the best who faced him.”

“It were well that I could provide myself with a half dozen strong fellows to-night, so that there might be no missing the point of our efforts,” said Bleekwood.

“Ah; and so there are some others?” said Ben.

“To be sure. It would require one much more stalwart than I to venture upon a matter of this sort, alone. No, no! I can plan and I can direct others as to what to do; but to engage in the matter in other ways—no!”

“Master Hawkins is not here, by any chance?” said Ben, with a studied carelessness.

The cadaverous one shook his head.

“No,” said he, “he remains at York.”

“And Master Sugden?”

“He is also there. Ah,” regretfully, “they have the skilled portions of the work to do, and while I try not to envy them, I cannot help a slight feeling somewhat akin to it. The Marquis,” in a dreamy sort of way, “makes a splendid companion.”

“The Marquis?” questioned Ben.

“The Marquis de Lafayette, that is.” Master Bleekwood clasped his hands behind his head and fixed his eyes upon the ceiling; and his aspect was that of one who sees pleasant things. “A splendid companion, indeed,” he went on. “So much of the spirit of youth, so much dash and enterprise and the desire for adventure and experience.”

“He is with Tobias Hawkins, then?—and Master Sugden?”

“At York,” replied Bleekwood. “At York. The Marquis is no idiot. He has been here long enough to see how matters stand. Youth seeks success, not failure. And Washington is not the winning general.”

“Ah,” said Ben Cooper.

His eyes went about the room, seeking Paddy; but the Irish lad was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, now that he thought about the matter, he had not seen his friend since a few moments before the now subdued giant had begun his destruction of the furniture.

“I don’t see my friend,” said he to the man opposite him.

Bleekwood took his eyes from the ceiling. “There were one or two of my fellows close at hand a few minutes ago, and I signaled them that he was the person they were waiting for. I rather think,” languidly glancing here and there, “that they have managed to draw him away somewhere.”

With the full knowledge strong upon him as to what this meant, Ben Cooper was startled. But he did not permit it to be seen.

“You were speaking of the Marquis,” said he, insinuatingly. “But, to be candid, I do not see just why he should be bothered about. He is but a boy—he has no experience as a soldier. If Master Hawkins desires to attract officers from Washington’s army, why does he not make an effort upon Greene, or Sterling, or Wayne?”

But Bleekwood waved one long, thin hand.

“Greene and Wayne and Sterling are all very well,” said he. “Most excellent generals, every one. But we are not seeking generals, my dear sir. No, no! far from it. We have generals a-plenty. What is required is the influence that will count across the sea.”

“Across the sea?” said Ben.

“In France, to be more explicit. Master Silas Dean and Master Benjamin Franklin have done much to arouse interest there in the American cause. And now that a great victory has been won at Saratoga, France will see her way clear to taking definite steps in the matter. If the French king sends over a fleet and an army, which he will now no doubt do, his stated preference to Congress as to what leader his commander shall deal with will have a powerful bearing upon Congress.”

“And Master Hawkins thinks that to win Lafayette to his side will turn the favor of France toward General Gates?”

“He has some such notion—and a most excellent one it is, I think.”

“But the Marquis is not in the king’s good graces. He ran away here to America against the king’s wishes.”

“The king was forced to forbid his going because of political reasons. But, secretly, he was delighted when he made safely away; for France desired some one to overlook conditions here and speak the truth concerning them. Another thing, the gallant conduct of the Marquis in sacrificing everything to take up the cause of liberty aroused great enthusiasm in Paris. They rave over him; the queen and the other great ladies sent him offerings of their admiration. Lafayette is but a lad, it’s true,” spoke Bleekwood, “but that faction which holds his support will have a heavy advantage.”

“Master Hawkins is a far-seeing man,” said Ben, thoughtfully. “There are few points in the game that escape him.”

“There are none,” claimed the cadaverous Bleekwood, in high admiration. “He misses nothing.”

And no sooner had these words been uttered than there again came a great noise from somewhere within the inn. Voices were lifted, steel clashed upon steel, and footsteps rushed to and fro. Thoughts of Paddy came to Ben, and he leaped up, drawing his pistol. But the shouts changed in tone, the blows ceased; but the rushing footsteps increased; then a door was flung open and a half dozen rough looking fellows, swords in hand, came pouring into the public room, cries of fear upon their lips. Behind them, her blue eyes shining with indignation and bearing a huge kettle of scalding water in her hands, was the red-haired Irish lass who had subdued the roystering giant a short time before.

“Out with you, you thieves,” cried this redoubtable person; “out upon you! Is it kill a decent boy you’d be doing? Out of my reach now, or I’ll scald the dirty hides off every one of you. Arrah, don’t be threatening me now, for sorra the bit is Molly Hayes afraid of your bodkins, you blackguards. Go along now, or I’ll dash every drop I have here into your ugly faces.”

And as she stood there in the doorway, the steaming vessel held aloft, fronting the scowling men, Ben, to his great relief, saw peering over her shoulder the grinning face of Paddy Burk.