Seeing themselves comparatively alone, Shirtliffe motioned the new volunteer nearer.
“I’m Robert Shirtliffe,” he whispered, “call me Bob, you can remember that?”
“Yes,” replied the boy, “and oh; but I am glad to see you Bob!”
“That’s right,” Shirtliffe gave a half laugh, “if you ever think you are going to forget, Jack Martin, run away or do something—you understand?”
“Ye—es, Bob—I’ve been trying for months. Have you found _him_?” Jack bent closer. In the darkness he could not see Robert’s face, but he felt the boy grasp his hand, then a hot tear startled him.
“Bend down, Jack, let me cry just once. He’s dead, Jack, dead! He was shot by a Britisher who looks so like me, that I have got to find him. There isn’t anything left in all the world Jack, except for me to find the other boy!”
“Some one is coming! Here, Bob—laugh, swear,—do anything,—but cry.”
Robert sat up, and threw off the blanket which thoughtful hands had laid over him. The man approaching was an officer and had come to thank the boy who had ridden so nobly and so well to bear the welcome news; but ere he reached the crouching pair upon the ground a volley of distant firing rent the still air. Again, and again it came.
The men listened until the truth broke upon them. The rumor was indeed true, the siege was over, the new general had come in time to save them!
Shirtliffe never received the thanks of the approaching officer, the universal cry of “Washington” from those hundreds of weary, ill-fed men was return enough for all that he had dared and done.
No one thought much of him during the next few days. He recovered with the care of the new recruit, Jack Martin—as well as might be expected, and the excitement kept up his spirits.
The relieving army marching toward the Heights of Dorchester made themselves heard by their continuous firing. The sound put new life in the hearts of Lee’s men and the men shut up in Boston, but it made anxious the besieging Britishers. There was to be no skirmish this time. This meant battle, and a big one.
Lord Percy, after receiving the news which had been delayed by Shirtliffe bearing it to the enemy, set his men in order and proceeded to Castle Island. He intended opening battle upon the afternoon of his arrival, but a great storm came up. The wind blew and the rain fell and a thick fog covered all. My Lord Percy thought best to wait until the following day before beginning the attack. Washington, who ever made his successes out of other men’s failures, lost no time. He went among his men personally, exhorting them to avenge the Boston Massacre of a year before, and drawing a vivid picture of the waiting patriots now looking to them for aid. His words fell on eager and willing ears. All the day and night of the terrible storm they worked and planned; strengthening their fortifications and planting their guns in favorable positions.