Valley Forge (44 page)

Skoyles's left hand darted out and took him by the neck, so that he could pull Featherstone forward and bang his head against the bars. His retaliation
was only momentary. The major used both hands to detach himself, then stood back out of reach. Blood was trickling from a gash in his forehead. His eyes were blazing.

"I'll make you sorry you did that!" he threatened.

When she walked past the room, Lucy Tillman heard the sound of sobbing from inside. She tapped on the door and went straight in without waiting for an invitation. Elizabeth Rainham was lying on the bed, crying into the pillow. When she became aware of her visitor, she sat up at once and began to dab at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

"Oh, you poor thing," said Lucy, coming to put an arm around her shoulders. "This must be agony for you."

"It is, Lucy."

"You should never have gone to see him."

"I had to," said Elizabeth. "I couldn't leave Jamie there on his own, wondering where I was and what I was doing. I had to show that I care."

"I know, Elizabeth, but you've been in a terrible state ever since you got back. I could see it in your face. Were you so upset by what you saw at the jail? Or did Jamie say something to distress you?" Elizabeth shook her head. "Try to be brave, for his sake. He'd not want you to suffer like this. And if he's innocent of the charges," she added with a hopeful smile, "then his name will be cleared at the court-martial."

"If only that were true!"

"Surely, you do not doubt him."

"No," said Elizabeth. "I know that Jamie is wrongly accused, and I know why. He has no chance of exoneration at the court-martial, Lucy. The judgment is a foregone conclusion."

"But it can't be until all the evidence is given."

"Yes, it can."

Elizabeth wiped the last tear from her cheek with the handkerchief and looked into her friend's eyes. Fond as she was of Lucy, she was not ready to confide in her completely. Feeling too embarrassed to raise the subject, Elizabeth decided to say nothing. Lucy Tillman, however, was not going to be shaken off. Sensing that something else had happened to plunge her friend into despair, she was determined to find out what it was.

"Come on," she coaxed. "You can tell me."

"No, Lucy. I can't burden you with my troubles."

"What else are friends for?"

"It's a . . . private matter."

"If it's causing you such unhappiness, I want to hear about it. I may be able to help." Elizabeth turned away. "I may, Elizabeth. At least, give me the opportunity to do so. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't do all I could for you."

"That's very kind of you."

Elizabeth still hesitated. Lucy tried to prompt her.

"I think that this has something to do with Major Featherstone." There was a lengthy pause. "It does, doesn't it? Tell me the truth."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "Yes, it does."

"In what way?"

"I went to see him," she said, forcing the words out. "I knew that Harry—the major—would be giving evidence at the court-martial and I also knew that it would be false. He simply wants to get his revenge and he admitted as much. His uncle is Brigadier General Malloby."

"But he'll be there tomorrow, according to Roderick."

"Yes, Lucy—primed by his nephew. Harry has told him all kinds of dreadful lies about Jamie."

"That's shameful!"

"Harry Featherstone is capable of far worse than that," said Elizabeth. "Well, you know what happened in my tent at Saratoga. He did something equally bad today."

Lucy gasped. "He tried to force himself upon you again?"

"No, he tried to trick his way into my bed this time. He told me that there was only one means by which Jamie would escape execution and that was if Harry spoke up for him at the court-martial. In order to do that, of course," Elizabeth continued, bitterly, "he would need a reward. You can guess what it was."

Lucy was disgusted. "That's abominable!"

"When I refused, he accused me of not loving Jamie enough."

"The man is a monster."

"It was my fault, Lucy. I should never have gone to him."

"But you did, and he revealed himself in his true colors. That may yet be his downfall, Elizabeth." She thought hard, pursing her lips and wrinkling her
brow. At length, she gave a nod. "He must not be allowed to get away with this," she insisted. "Write to General Howe. Tell him the truth about Major Harry Featherstone."

"I'm not sure that he'd take any notice."

"He must. Otherwise, Jamie will not get a fair hearing."

"I know."

"Get pen and paper this instant," urged Lucy.

"I'm not certain what to say."

"Tell him the truth." Elizabeth was still reluctant. "It's got to be done. It's your one hope of saving Jamie. Why dither?"

"Because the army does not usually pay much attention to women."

"General Howe does. Look at Mrs. Loring."

"You know what I mean, Lucy."

"Yes, I do," said the other, "but that would not put me off. I promise you this, Elizabeth. If you won't write that letter, then I certainly will."

Pretending to sleep that night, Jamie Skoyles missed nothing of what happened outside his cell. When the two guards were relieved, the man who was on night duty replaced them. All that he had to do was sit on his chair and watch a lone prisoner on his bed. It was felt that only one guard was necessary during nighttime. The problem was that the new man, a young private, soon grew bored with sitting there alone. At one point, he even thought of rousing Skoyles so that he could have some conversation, but the prisoner appeared to be slumbering quietly. The guard therefore sat in the half-dark and waited. After an hour, he was yawning; after two, he was trying to fight off fatigue. It was well past midnight when he finally dozed off.

Once he was certain that the guard was asleep, Skoyles went swiftly into action. He got up silently and, from under his blanket, he brought out the little coil of rope that Tom Caffrey had passed to him during his visit. Using it to make a ligature, he slipped it around his neck. Then he began to make gurgling sounds. The guard was jerked out of his dreams. He looked up to see that the prisoner was trying to hang himself from the bars. His first impulse was to call for help but that would expose the fact that he had fallen asleep long enough for Skoyles to make an attempt at cheating execution by taking his own life.

The guard therefore rushed across the room and clutched at the rope. Skoyles was ready for him. Grabbing him through the bars, he turned him round and slipped the rope deftly around his neck, pulling it tight and applying steady pressure. The guard was trapped. His arms flailed and his legs kicked out but he could not escape or even cry out. When he tried to take hold of the rope and pull it away from his neck, he found that his strength was seeping away from him. Skoyles was careful not to strangle him. He tightened his hold until he had rendered the man unconscious, then he let the body slowly down to the ground. Reaching for the man's key, he unlocked his cell door and came quickly out.

The first thing he did was to drag the guard into the cell and strip him of his coat and hat. Then he used the rope to tie the man's hands behind him. After tearing a strip from his blanket, Skoyles gagged him so that he could not raise the alarm. The coat was rather tight on Skoyles, but he did not mind that. When he put on the hat, he knew that he could pass for the guard in the gloom. Leaving the cell, he locked it and put the key in his pocket. He picked up the prisoner's musket, then took a last look at him. The man was starting to revive. Skoyles gave him a farewell wave and left the room.

He went down a long passageway. To get to the main door, he had to go past another holding cell. Because it contained ten prisoners, two guards were on duty. Skoyles opened the door and went into the room. One of the guards was asleep but the other looked up in surprise.

"Where are you going, Martin?" he asked.

Skoyles pointed to the other guard. When the first man turned to look at his companion, Skoyles used the butt of his musket to knock him senseless. He slumped to the ground with a thud, waking up the other guard as he did so. Before the man could even open his mouth, Skoyles hit him with the butt and sent him sprawling to the floor. Some of the prisoners were still awake. They came to the bars to see what was going on. They could hardly believe their good fortune when Skoyles—another guard in their eyes—found the key that unlocked their cell. He crooked a finger to beckon them out. The rest of the prisoners were woken up, and they poured out of their cell.

Skoyles led the way to the main door and inched it open. A finger to his lips to signal that they remain silent, he opened the door, scanned the yard outside, then let them all go out before him. Once they were clear of the building, he yelled at the top of his voice.

"Help! Prisoners have escaped! Help!"

Guards came running from all directions and started to chase the main body of fugitives. Skoyles, meanwhile, took advantage of the disturbance to cross the yard, unbolt a side door, and slip out. Clear of the prison, he ran off in the direction he had warned others that he would go. Skoyles had managed the most difficult part of the operation. It remained to be seen if his friends were standing by to help. Running fast through the dark streets, he dived into a doorway until a night patrol had marched past. Then he continued on his way.

Still carrying the musket, he made for Front Street. That was the place he had suggested in one of the two letters he had given to Elizabeth to deliver. The other message, addressed to Tom Caffrey, had obviously been handed over because his friend had brought the rope that Skoyles had requested. He could rely totally on Caffrey. The same did not go for the recipient of the second letter. Skoyles had been compelled to take a risk, and when he reached Front Street, he began to fear that the risk had been a mistake. The street was cold and deserted. Though he waited at the designated corner, nobody appeared. A quarter of an hour sped by. His escape would have been discovered by now, and patrols would soon be scouring the streets. Skoyles could not stay there indefinitely.

Eventually, someone did appear, a stooping figure with a large pack on his back. Musket at the ready, Skoyles watched him carefully as he approached. He was about to challenge the man when he felt a pistol thrust against the back of his skull. Skoyles had been hoist with his own petard. Having used other prisoners as his decoy, he was now the victim of a similar ruse. While someone held his attention, an accomplice had crept up behind him. The man who had been shuffling toward him straightened up and broke into a trot. He snatched off Skoyles's hat and looked him full in the face.

"Put the gun away, Pearsall," said Major Clark. "It's him."

Wearing his dress uniform in readiness for the court-martial, General Howe sat behind his desk and perused the letter that had arrived that morning. It had been sent by Elizabeth Rainham and contained an impassioned plea for leniency toward Captain Skoyles. She had included enough details of his military career for Howe to be reminded what an outstanding officer Skoyles had
been, but that was not the part of the letter that made the general sit up in consternation. It was the allegation of improper behavior by Major Featherstone that troubled him, coupled as it was with an explanation of the longstanding hatred that the major nursed against Skoyles.

Howe was forced to reconsider. If the allegations were true, and the major really had offered to help the prisoner in return for the Elizabeth's favors, then Featherstone's role in the court-martial was suddenly called into question. So was that of his uncle, Brigadier General Malloby. The major had tried to take cruel advantage of a woman in a vulnerable position. While her charges might turn out to be groundless, they somehow had the ring of truth about them. Howe resolved to confront Featherstone, and if he denied the claims made in the letter, the general would speak to the lady herself. At all events, the court-martial would be delayed until the matter was sorted out.

Hearing a tap on the door, he glanced up from his desk.

"Come in," he said.

Lieutenant Hugh Orde opened the door and entered the room. He looked apprehensive. Howe rose to his feet immediately.

"Your arrival is timely, Lieutenant," he said. "The court-martial will have to be postponed. Pass that information on please."

Orde cleared his throat. "It may have to be postponed indefinitely, sir," he said nervously. "Captain Skoyles escaped during the night."

"Escaped!"

"I fear so."

"But he was under constant guard."

"It seems that he somehow acquired a rope, general. He tricked the guard into thinking that he was trying to commit suicide, then overpowered the man. Captain Skoyles got away in the guard's uniform."

"This is unpardonable!" Howe roared. "Organize a search."

"Patrols have been out all night."

"Use every available man. Skoyles must be caught."

"Yes, General."

"And find Major Featherstone for me."

"He's waiting for the court-martial to begin."

"He may well face one of his own," Howe muttered.

"What was that, sir?"

The general exploded. "Are you still here, Lieutenant?" he yelled. "Do
something useful for once, man. Get out and bring the major back with you before I lose my temper."

Orde was gone in a flash.

Harry Featherstone took charge of the men who guarded the road that led out of the city in the direction of Valley Forge. He was still smarting from the harsh rebuke administered by General Howe, and still reeling from the news of the escape of Jamie Skoyles. Those guarding the roads out of the city had insisted that nobody had left Philadelphia. It meant that Skoyles was still there. While search parties combed street after street, Featherstone chose to wait at the most likely exit that the fugitive would take. The major was anxious to be the person to recapture Skoyles. It was the only way he could redeem himself.

When he had been shown Elizabeth's letter, Featherstone had been caught off guard and retreated into bluster. It was clear that Howe had not believed his protestations, and there would be further questioning to face when the general had spoken to Elizabeth herself. Lucy Tillman had been mentioned in the letter as the person in whom Elizabeth had confided the indecent proposal that had been put to her at Featherstone's lodging. General Howe intended to speak to Lucy as well, to listen to her testimony. The major was in deep trouble. Having an uncle on the tribunal was no use to him now.