Though he might have understood them, Jake was not aware of the Tory captain's strong emotions, nor did he know he had reached the church. In fact, Jake suspected that Busch was waiting at Stoneman's, and spent most of the journey from the jail to the Tory hideout rehearsing an account of his capture that might sound somewhat plausible in the commander's ears.
The motley parade of Tories encountered no resistance. Caleb and the others seemed content to let Jake take the lead. The American secret agent kept the irony of his position to himself.
When they reached Stoneman's, they found the remnants of the ranger force in disarray. The clouds gathering overhead were but a hint of the dark mood that had descended on the supposedly unflappable irregulars. The captain had failed to return, and the attack on the jail had been forgotten as they attempted to regroup after last night's ferocious assault.
The details of what had happened were sketchy at best, and varied depending on the teller. The story gaining the most currency was that no less than three full regiments under General Alexander McDougall had overrun the corps as it slept. The rebels were said to have been beaten off by a determined counterattack, the rangers' only ally the attackers' inherent cowardice. Even so, the barn had been set ablaze, several horses lost, and a sentry killed. In addition, one of the servants seemed to have been carried off as a war prize.
Sergeant Lewis was wearing a bandage that swelled his already large head to twice its normal size. He was in a dismal, cranky mood, and not even the news of the bloodless escape from the rebel jail could cheer him.
A pugnacious sort who wore his ranger beanie far forward on his head when it wasn't injured, Lewis had just the kind of bravery for which Tories are known. While his commander and the British were nearby, he strutted back and forth in his fine boots, tugging at his green jacket with all the pride of an Italian prince. But under the pressure of the night's difficulties, his fine facade had crumbled. He was now a testament to indecision, inclined to wait at the farm for Busch to arrive, even if that took the rest of the war.
"Well, ya made sumthin' of yerself, at least," he said to Jake after hearing the erstwhile ranger's report of the adventure. "Ya might as well see if ya can scrounge up some breakfast. The girl's run off — or was carried away, whichever. We'll be here a while."
Jake realized that Busch's absence would make it considerably easier to sabotage their plot. He also knew that the longer they waited at Stoneman's, the better the odds he would show up. And so he endeavored to encourage the troop to leave for its rendezvous. A rendezvous had been planned, hadn't it? "Keep yer shirt on," said Lewis. "I'm the one what knows the plan, not you. It's me that's in charge." "I don't question that," answered Jake. "But we should leave before the rebels find us."
"Why? We don't have to be aboard the Richmond until 3 p.m. Our horses will get us there within an hour."
"Given the problems of yesterday," said Jake, acting as if he had known the plan all along, "I suggest we should leave immediately." "What do you know of the problems of yesterday?" "One of the men told me the horses got sick." "Yes, well, they're better now," said Lewis stubbornly. "Even so, the rebels will be searching the countryside for us, sir."
The sergeant galumphed, and cast an eye toward Caleb. As corporal, he should have led the breakout from the jail, or at least the march south. Now his authority had been usurped by the uppity Smith. Would the sergeant's post be next?
But Jake was well used to dealing with a man such as Lewis, and proceeded to praise the sergeant for his leadership and rapport with the men. His words sounded so sincere that Lewis was somewhat softened.
"I wonder, Sergeant, why you were not actually placed in charge from the beginning," assayed Jake. "After all, you are considerably closer to the men than Captain Busch. And I don't believe what the others have whispered."
"Tell it to yer bunter, not me," said the sergeant. While the expression implied that Jake should seek the services of a woman whose loose morals would make her believe anything, there was nonetheless a hint of wounded pride in Lewis's face. "As I said, Sergeant, I didn't believe it." "Who said it? Who?" Lewis's cheeks screwed up like an angered puffer fish. "I would not," said Jake, "turn traitor on any fellow in this troop."
Lewis's hand jutted forward as he prepared to demand an answer to his question. But the rush of blood to his head so increased the pain in his wounds that he had to stop and put both hands to his skull, as if it were about to explode.
"Listen, fool," he said after calming somewhat, "when ya've gone through the hells that I've been through, then ya can talk of courage. Anyone can stand up to a salt merchant on the road, or break out of jail."
Sergeant Lewis spit into the dirt and took a step away, debating with himself. Surely the rebels would launch a search for the escaped prisoners, and that could complicate things. He didn't like Jake Smith, but if he ignored him, Smith was exactly the sort of eager beaver fellow who would stir up the others.
It was probably Corporal Evans who had gone around whispering. He was just the type.
Well, the sergeant could deal with both of these bastards in one blow.
"All right, get your horses!" he thundered to his men, his voice trailing off because of the pounding in his brain. "We ride in five minutes-less, if possible. Smith, find yourself a new uniform from the pile there. We have no more helmets.
"You, Caleb — take Smith and round up these citizens and lead them south to New York. Hurry, before the damn rebels or their Skinners make an appearance." But Jake had no intention of leaving the main column. "Begging your pardon, Sergeant, but if Captain Busch doesn't show up — " "I'm in charge now, Smith. I'll not have my orders questioned." "I merely wanted to point out that I know the layout of the defenses around the chain, which I presume is our target."
"It might be," allowed Lewis, who in fact had only a hazy idea of the shape their mission would take once they reached the HMS Richmond. "Then perhaps it would be better if I came with you to the ship, where my knowledge may prove useful." Smith, the sergeant reluctantly conceded, had a point. "Caleb, choose another man in his place," he said. "The rest of you, look sharp!" "Perhaps six or seven men might be better," suggested Jake. "There are many rebels about."
"Don't push it, Smith. If yer gonna have a comment every time I give an order, ya'll soon find yourself swingin' upside down from an oak tree, no matter how important ya are."
Even so, the sergeant did add a few more soldiers to Caleb's force, leaving the ranger complement at a bare two dozen. He boarded his horse — to say "jumped on" would imply more vigor than his bandaged head allowed — and got his troops in motion. A few of the rescued Tories came up to him as he was about to leave and protested that they would prefer to go back to their homes in place of the city.
"Yer homes are as good as burned down now," he told them. "Ya better do as I say and get yourselves south. Come tonight, the rebels will be getting what they deserve, thanks to His Majesty's Navy. And Earl Graycolmb's Doughty Rangers."