Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 107, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 September 1899 — THE PATRIOTS TALISMAN. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE PATRIOTS TALISMAN.

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr.

gB CHAPTER X. £lt was in the evening when Seaton “Went up to headquarters to report. He feras admitted at once to the presence of ■3k commander-in-chief, whom he found 4a company with two general officers, one V*f whom, in a warm, impetuous way, ad•“vanced and grasped his hand—a man not ■wider than himself—a slightly-built, handHfeme man, with intense fire in his keen, ' <dark eyes, and a superabundance of life and zeal in his youthful face.” if “My brave Captain,” he cried, with a [ Strong French accent, ‘‘l congratulate Sjjrou. I saw your troupeau de betail — MMBr borines —a magnificent spectacle, Lcertes!” !' “Thank you, Marquis. I did as I was Wardered.” # ft;/ /‘As a true soldier always does,” said : --a deep, grave voice, most decidedly Teu- | tonic. ■ Seaton turned in the direction of the voice, and beheld a brown-faced, strong- ; Jty built, middle-aged man, wearing a ■•trange undress uniform, with the Black Eagle of Prussia upon his breast. Our ■kero’s' heart swelled, and his eye bright■ened and moistened, at sight of that nohie Order. His father had worn it, and to himself, as a sacred treasure, had been •left the chivalric insignia than which not '■one in Europe is more prized. The strannfer must have observed our hero’s deep, gSnpassioned look, for he quickly arose to rafes feet, and extended his hand. . Our young captain cast an anxious S tance towards the commander-in-chief, kfie had been admitted into the august presence for the purpose of making his i It would do very well for two officers, and both noblemen at ■that, to be free and easy in that place, but surely it would not answer for him. caught his glance, and quickgay understood its meaning: and, further|«nore, this mark of the gallant cavalrybtman’s modesty and reverence evidently him, for he came forward with C4a smile, and having welcomed the youth ; ®y a cordial grasp of the hand, he said: 1 "Captain Seaton, I will make you ac'<quainted with our country’s dear and /valuable friend, Frederick William Au|jfcustus, Baron de Steuben.” •* Our hero’s heart leaped at the sound -es that name. He had heard it from the 4ips of his father, as the name of one of stbis dearest friends in the army of Fredftbriek the Great. He grasped the old Prussian’s hand with both his own, hardly knowing what he said. The baron feaeemed surprised at the youth’s unwont•d emotion, but before he could remark ■ Wipon it, Gen. Washington spoke: “You obtained the beef, Captain?” H “Yes,' General.” fe And thereupon Seaton gave, in detail, fit account of his expedition. A hearty laugh followed his picture of the rage •nd chagrin of Gabriel Van Tromp upon /the breaking up of his secret corral. am told that you have also brought ■*ln some prisoners.” “Yes, General, and they are men whom /I have captured once before. My first expedition, a year and a half ago, Igwas made into this valley, in quest of a Bgang of Tories and outlaws commanded •Oby Kirk Fagan. 1 captured them, and them up in Philadelphia. Fagan |»ade his escape from jail within a month 7 afterwards, and the others became free b upon the occupation of our city by the ■British. I had known that a portion of ; that outlaw command was used by the • ■enemy for foraging purposes, but I did t aot know that Fagan was with them unf<ll I gained information from Van v’flTromp’s boy, who let out that the desL’gerado had been there two days before, | With ten men. I got on track of the ras- » cals yesterday morning, and picked them Eap at the old Warwick Tavern, where I they had stopped for a jollification. We L<aptured nine of them, Fagan included, f.*nd left two dead. I have delivered them if •over to the provost. Fifty of the catfctle, and the extra horses, which I have in, I found in their keeping.” L-" Captain,” said Washington, heartily, | t “you have done a greater service than I you may suppose. I have been espeI dally warned against this Fagan. He is t -one of Howe’s most accomplished spies. am indebted to you.” /Seaton bowed, with his hand upon his L'heart. No greater reward could have t jbeen given him. , At this juncture an orderly appeared Land handed to the commander-in-chief a • note. The latter opened and read it, I -and then turning to his guests, he said: “Gentlemen, you will excuse me. Make lyourselves comfortable. I leave my of- | fice in your charge for the time, Mar B<uis." Jt was a supreme moment for Robert ! Beaton, He found himself, for a brief [ aeason, at least, as the honored guest of jSVjishington, on terms of social equality Lwith two men who had brought succor l and hope from the Old World to the L New—two men whose names were to ilI lumine forever after the brightest pages gin the history Of American Independence. Y The younger of the two was the MarHanis Gilbert Motier de La Fayette, not ofie-and-twenty, who had left rank Kwß wealth, ease and comfort, a young ■Bad laving wife, and all the allurements the very choicest society of Europe lifehind him, and, at his own expense, the ocean for the sole purpose of Entering his sword and his purse to a ■Sppple struggling for liberty. He had the army as a volunteer, without I any command, and so he had fought. In the thickest and hottest of the battle at I Brandywine he had been engaged per■fewiilljr with Sullivan and Stirling, and ■MifMMiot and ahell cutting down com■feesupon every hand, he had sprung • from his restive horse, and, sword in ■Ki, wa® striving, with all his might, Bfe' rally the faltering patriots when he a severe wound in the leg by a musket ball. His devotion and galhad been rewarded, and he was

Frederick the Great, and aid-de-camp of that monarch; who had been a lieutenant general under Prince Charles of Baden, and also grand marshal. The King of Sardinia, knowing his sterling worth, made him brilliant offers; and the Emperor of Austria held out to him right royal inducements to enter his service. But all these offers the stern soldier steadfastly refused; the honors and emoluments of his princely offices he cast aside, and had crossed the ocean and offered himself as a volunteer in the Patriot army of America. He had come to battle for freedom. He had been in camp but a few weeks, but already had he set himself about the work which was mainly to distinguish him in the armies of America, and which was, ere long, to win for him the responsible office of inspector general. He found the army but a mobilization of militia, entirely lacking in system, and in a great measure lacking in even the rudiments of proper military movements and tactics. Baron Steuben was not only a thorough master of the art of war, but he was thorough in the whole detail, even to the minutiae of the manual. ' The application of his masterly genius was to bring order out of chaos—was to place the Patriot armyon a level with the best-drilled armies of Europe, and was to show to the proud Briton, in the coming campaign, that he had no longer to deal with raw militia. God bless the memories of those two men! But for them America might have seen a darker day. But for the Baron de Steuben the army that came forth from Valley. Forge might have melted away before the British hosts upon the field of Monmouth; and but for the Marquis de La Fayette America might not have succeeded in gaining the sympathy and the alliance of France, which was to help her to final victory. v “I am glad,” said La Fayette, after Washington had gone, “that our chieftain can smile again. • Captain, you have helped him to thatl Ah! but few, very few, can even imagine, let alone the realization, how keenly that great-hearted man suffers when his troops are suffering. Yesterday I dined with him. Mrs. Potts was coming in ■with meat, but Washington sent her away. ‘No,’ he said, ‘not until every soldier in camp, if he desires it, has had a meal of meat, will I taste another morsel!’ The baron was with me.” This seemed to be an invitation to the Prussian to confirm the statement, but he did not look up; he was closely occupied in another direction. When Capt. Seaton had first entered the room, he had, as was usual with line officers under such circumstances, removed his sword, and laid it upon the table; and it was that sword which had attracted Steuben’s attention. “My dear Baron,” pursued La Fayette, slightly raising his voice, but not marring its sweet, musical cadence, “would your great Frederick have done this?” At the sound of that name the Prussian looked up. “Ah, Marquis,” he said, his deep, rich voice strangely toned with strong emotion, “I was at that moment thinking of my old master. We cannot compare Washington with Frederick. One is every inch a self-sacrificing Patriot, the other every inch a king. Both are willing to suffer; but Frederick has endured hardship and privation that would kill our Washington. His fare, on long and weary marches, was but the fare of his common soldiers. He was a man of iron. His will power was wonderful; it more than made up for all that he might lack of moral force. Ah, he was in truth and in deed, Frederick the Great.” A moment afterwards the baron turned to our hero. “Captain, this sword is yours?” “Yes, Baron/’ “Where did you get it?” “It was my father’s.” “Your father’s!” cried the Prussian, in surprise. “And how came he by it?” “The man who first wore it died in my father’s arms. The sword was returned to the monarch who had bestowed it upon the dead soldier, and that monarch saw fit to give it to my father.” “Heavens!” ejaculated the baron, raising the sword to his lips with childlike reverence and affection, “I should have remembered the name. Your father was Gen. Seaton?” “Yes.” “Aye,” cried the veteran, grasping the sword with convulsive energy. “I know now. This was Marshal Schwerin’s sword. I was at Prague when he fell. I was by Frederick’s side when he gave this priceless blade to your father. And I was at Liegnitz, and at Taugau, and at Buckersdorf, where I saw your father carry this - weapon at the head of his conquering legion. My brave boy, give me your hand. We must be something more than friends henceforth —we must be brothers!” A hearty grasp, in which a lifelong friendship was cemented, and then they resumed their septs. “There was a tie between your father and myself,” continued the baron, “which you cannot fully understand.” “If you mean the order which you wear upon your breast, Baron, I know that my father also wore it, and from the hand of Frederick. I hold it as a sacred charge.” “Aye,” returned Steuben, caressing the Black Eagle affectionately; “but there was another order to which Frederick introduced his favorite generals—an order, if not so grandly honorable and chivalrous. yet far richer in heart-wealth than that of the Black-Eagle of Prussia. Of that order your father and I were both members. Though instituted by Frederick of Prussia, it is appendant to an, order as old as the Temple of Solomon, and will endure, I verily believe, to the end of time. Its emblazonry and motto are upon the pommel of your sword.” ( “Ym,” said Seaton, taking the sword, and looking at the emblazoned carnelian, “my father told me of this, and bade me keep the sword as a sacred Talisman.” “Aye, my boy, and well you may! Should yon visit Prussia while Frederick v I I

the Great lives, you would find that sword a Talisman indeed. Be sure the grateful monarch would do you all honor.” . “The Black Eagle,” suggested La Fayette, breaking in here, “stands at the head of the Prussian orders of chivalry?” “Yes,” nodded Steuben. supposed it could only be bestowed upon men of noble birth.” “Only upon Prussians of noble birth, Marquis. Illustrious foreigners may be made its recipients without the qualification of inherited nobility." But,” he added, looking towards our hero, “I think Gen. Seaton filled both prerequisites. Am I not right, Captain?" Robert’s heart gave a sudden leap. Perhaps this man could rend away the dark veil that hid from him the secret of his family in the past. With a sudden movement he caught the old soldier’s hand. “Baron, my father died before he could tell me the secret of his family connections. I knew not that he was English until the last hour. He had given me the sword, and told me its story, and was approaching the thing that lay nearest to my heart, when the power of speech failed him forever! Can you tell me anything of him? Perhaps you can give me some clue by which the secret might be gained.” The baron shook his head. “My dear Seaton, I can tell you clearly no more than your father has told you. I think he left a position of rank and wealth in England of his own free will; but I know nothing—absolutely nothing. But we will speak further of this at another time. Here comes our chieftain.” It was past ten o’clock when Seaton left Washington’s quarters, and at a short distance from the house he met the officer of the day, who had been his grand rounds with the last relief, and was on his way to headquarters to report. He had left the huts of the Life Guard behind him, and had entered a strip of brushwood between those and the quarters of Mclntosh’s brigade, when he thought he heard footsteps following him. He stopped and listened, but the sound had ceased. It was a slight circumstance, very slight, but yet the captain drew his sword as he pursued his way. The night was clear and cold. The new moon had set, but the stars were gleaming brightly, and their myriad lights, with the reflective power of the snow, rendered surrounding objects plainly visible, if not distinct. As our hero’s huts lay directly south of Mclntosh, this brushwood path was much his shortest way. The main track from the far camp to headquarters lay at the foot of the hills to the westward, running by Harry Lee’s quarters, and to have gone that way would have given him a sweep of distance altogether needless. Seaton had reached the lowest part of the thicket, near its center, when he heard the footsteps again. This time there could be no mistake. He trod very lightly while listening, and distinctly heard the crushing of the frozen snow behind him. Surely, he ought not to fear an enemy in that place; and yet those were times when the Patriot had need to be ever on his guard. And, moreover, the captain knew that he had made himself particularly an object of hatred and dread to the British and Tories. He knew that a price had been set upon the heads of both himself and Light-Horse Harry; or, at least, that Howe had offered large rewards for their capture. And, still further, he knew that spies had been found in camp. Desperate, outlawed men, in the service of the king, were known to be skulking outside the lines. He had on that very day brought a squad of them in with him. He stopped and turned, just in season to see two dark forms appfoaching him from a thicket which he had passed. “Who goes there?” he demanded, abruptly and authoritatively. He would have given much at that moment for a pistol, but he had only his sword. “Friends!” And the two men stopped but a few yards distant. “Stand, upon your lives! Advance, one of you, with the countersign.” “Mercy, Captain! We didn’t stop for any countersign. We came out to look for one of Mclntosh’s horses that broke loose an hour ago.” “Are you of Mclntosh’s brigade?” “Yes, Captain.” Seaton did not think of calling for help in that place. He preferred not to precipitate maters by giving what might be worse than a useless alarm; but he grasped his sword firmly and prepared himself for the worst. He dmew the man had lied! The troops of the Scotch fire-eater were from Georgia, and this man’s speech had plainly betrayed the Pennsylvanian. “If you are of Gen. Mclntosh’s brigade, return at once to your quarters. The horse • will be found more easily in the morning than now.” The men whispered together, and made a motion as though they would turn, but they did no such thing. With a sudden bound, and together, they leaped forward, a heavy club in the hand of one and a knife in the hand of the other. If they had thought to surprise the captain of horse they were sadly mistaken. The bare-faced lie had betrayed them, and their intended victim was completely on his guard. Had they bade him prepare for defense he could not have been more ready. He saw the outlines of the uplifted club, and he caught the gleaming of the long knife—a knife of the Monmouth Pines, from the forge of the Freehold blacksmith, he well knew, from its form and size. He of the club was slightly in advance. From a posture of perfect quietude Seaton sprang aside like a flash, just as the club descended, and on the next instant, with lightning-like strength and rapidity, he plunged his Toledo blade through the miscreant’s body, shaking the carcass off just in season to dart back and avoid the knife blow of the second assailant. His work was now but simple. His ire and his energy were alike aroused, and he fought to conquer. With one blow he cut the assassin’s right arm, and with another he almost severed the head from its body. It had been but the work of a very few moments, and when Seaton saw that neither of the two offered to arise, he bestowed upon them a closer examination. He had planned, when he turned his sword-blade for that first thrust, to find the man’s heart, and he had evidently done it. As for the second naan, his head might as well have been cut entirely off, for the vertebrae of the neck were severed. / “By my faith; I have been too precipitate,” muttered the officer, as he gased upen the work of his sword. “If I had captured this last rascal, I.might have discovered the full meaning of this at-

tempt upon iny life. But it is too late to repine. Their secret probably dies with' them. O, Death! Death! What secrets have you stolen from me!” (To be continued.) Copyright.