# The Rider of the Black Horse/Chapter 5
### CHAPTER V A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY

It soon became apparent that no heed was given him by Russell, and Robert Dorlon, relieved of the fear which for the moment had possessed him, quietly rolled a little farther from his sleeping comrade. The deep and regular breathing of Russell became monotonous, and even the form of the huge guard in the doorway seemed to be leaning back against the wall as if he too was so confident of the security of his prisoner that he deemed it safe to indulge in a nap. Outside the hut the low rustling of the leaves of the trees could be heard, and the noisy notes of the crickets became almost unnaturally loud.
For a time Robert lay motionless and still, though his mind was busy as he recalled the exciting events of the night. The unexpected coming of Russell had been more than a diversion, for it had sharply recalled the prospects which Robert himself must face. The Tory had declared that he would remain only two or three hours, and then was to receive ​something from some one who was to come to the hut that would compel him to depart at once. He wondered if Nero was near by, and the thought at once aroused the eager young soldier. If only he could gain possession of him he would laugh at all the efforts of the Thirteen to overtake him.
He lifted his head from the blankets and gazed earnestly at Josh. The man was evidently asleep, and his heavy breathing came almost like a response to that of Russell, who was sleeping by his side. If he should rise and dart through the doorway he might be able to gain the shelter of the surrounding forest before the mighty Josh could recover from the surprise. Even the possibility that the guard was not really sleeping, but only resting, was hardly worthy of consideration, Robert thought, in contrast with the prospect of many days in one of the sugar-houses in New York, where already so many of the American soldiers were confined,—the tales of their sufferings and privations being familiar to all the patriots of the region.
But his hands were securely bound behind his back and his arms were numb and stiff. To attempt to escape with such a handicap was scarcely to be thought of, he decided, ​for if he should stumble or fall in his flight, he would be almost helpless. His first effort must be to free himself from his bonds.
At once he began to strive to withdraw his hands from the strap that held them. Doing his utmost to be quiet as he toiled at the task, he nevertheless exerted himself again and again as he strove to stretch the bands and to pull out his hands. For a long time he apparently made but slight progress. The straps had been wound several times about his wrists, and then had been drawn tightly into a knot. He twisted and strained and pulled, all the time doing his utmost not to arouse either of the men. His face was wet with perspiration, and the muscles in his arms ached from his exertions. He could feel that the skin was broken, and he was aware what it was that was trickling from his fingers' ends. The pain which he was suffering caused him repeatedly to cease his efforts, but every time he resumed his task with a steadily increasing determination. The sugar-house or freedom, failure or success in obeying the orders of his great commander, were the alternatives in his mind, and every particle of will-power that he possessed was summoned to his aid.
​His efforts had drawn the knot more tightly, but he was convinced that the strap itself was giving a little. With renewed hope he increased his exertions, and at last, to his unspeakable delight, he was able to withdraw one hand, though it pained him so intensely that he was fearful it would be useless. In his excitement he sat partly erect as he moved his hands in front of him, and with one hastily tore away the strap that was still wrapped about the other. His occupation was interrupted by a slight sound from the doorway, and glancing up, he beheld the giant standing just outside the hut. He had not then been sleeping, after all, and instantly Robert threw himself back upon the blankets, hardly daring to draw a long breath, so fearful was he that Josh had been quietly watching him in his efforts to free his hands. The giant stepped out into the night for a moment, and could not be seen, but he soon reëntered the hut and approached the place where the two men were lying. Was he about to adjust the strap again? The question caused Robert's heart to beat furiously, and for a moment the suspense was well-nigh unendurable. He tried to breathe regularly and heavily, like one who was sleeping, but his efforts seemed to him ​to be a miserable failure. A feeling of intense relief swept over him when, in a brief time, the huge guard, apparently satisfied that all was well within, turned and resumed his place in the doorway.
Convinced that his work had not been discovered, Robert did not move, but keenly watched the guardian of the hut. Apparently he was again sleeping, but his recent movements were too fresh in the prisoner's mind to permit him to trust to appearances, and for a time he strove to think out his own best plan to follow; but not once did he turn away his eyes from the sight before him. The deep and regular breathing of Russell still continued, and Robert was convinced that he had little to fear from him. The supreme test would be found in Josh, the giant guard. If he was really sleeping, to leap past him would be comparatively easy, but if he should be awake Robert well knew what would be likely to occur.
Still the young soldier lay motionless upon his bed. He did not even dare to rub his aching hand for fear the movement might attract the attention of his guard. For a time he thought carefully over the problem as to whether it would be safer for him to ​rise and creep stealthily and softly toward the exit, or to make a sudden dash across the ten or twelve feet that intervened and trust to fortune to favor him. The sleeper by his side moved uneasily, changed his position, and rolled a little nearer. Robert waited until the deep breathing once more assured him that his companion was not mindful of anything that was occurring in the room, and then he decided that the attempt must now be made. The hours were passing, and Russell had apparently been confident that some one was soon to come. The time might already be at hand, and Robert Dorlon decided that he could wait no longer. The worst feature of it all was that, even if by his sudden departure he should chance to escape, he still must leave Nero behind him. Even the faithful animal must now be left, he decided; and then resolutely, and with every nerve in his body tense, he began to lift himself from the blankets. Slowly and cautiously he rose to a sitting posture, and then waited to discover if his movements were seen. Apparently he was still safe, for Josh had not moved. He placed one foot on the ground, and, kneeling, braced himself for the quick leap he ​must make. Still, for some unaccountable reason, he hesitated. The silence in the room was almost appalling. Even the darkness was rendered more intense by the dim light that came in through the doorway, where the form of the huge guard could be plainly seen, seated as it had been for some time. The time for hesitation had passed, however, and Robert prepared himself for the final effort.
With every muscle rigid and all his reserve strength summoned to his aid, he was on the point of bounding toward the doorway when he was startled by a sound outside the hut. He flung himself back upon the blankets, but his feeling of disappointment was so keen that the tears started from his eyes. He was satisfied that the sound he had heard was made by the man who had come for Russell. Bitterly he blamed himself for his undue caution and delay. To have been so near the attempt and then to fail, even before he had put his fate to the test, was worse than to have failed after he had done his utmost. He could see Josh's great frame as the guard rose and stood in the doorway, and the heavy breathing of Russell by his side was still unbroken. The discovery that he had freed his hands would add to his own miseries, Robert was ​convinced; but he was powerless now to do anything to aid himself, and almost overcome by despair he lay motionless upon his bed and waited in breathless suspense for his companion to be summoned.
Josh had now stepped outside the hut, and wild thoughts of still attempting to rush through the doorway were in Robert's mind; but the attempt would be foolhardy he was assured, and he resigned himself to his fate with such courage as he could summon. Whatever might happen, he was resolved that his captors should not enjoy the sight of any weakness on his part.
He glanced again at the doorway as some one entered. It was not Josh, he at once perceived; and when the man approached the sleeping-place, Robert rolled over upon his side, keeping his arms behind his back. That the man had come to summon Russell he had no doubt.
Suddenly, and to his intense surprise, the stranger touched him upon the shoulder and whispered "Come."
Almost too dazed to realize what it meant, Robert rose hastily and followed the man as he cautiously withdrew to the doorway. What the summons might mean Robert had not ​the slightest conception, but his excitement and interest were too keen to permit him to falter now. Once outside the hut the man stopped, and holding a letter in his hand, said,—
"You 're to give this to Sir Henry himself. It's from General Burgoyne."
"Yes, sir," replied Robert, still too dazed to comprehend what it all meant.
"Mind you, you 're to put it into the hands of Sir Henry himself! No other man on earth is to see it. Can you do it?"
"Yes, sir," replied Robert, his heart giving a great throb as he realized that the man, whoever he was, had mistaken him for Russell. His own letter had been taken from him, but if he should succeed in bearing the other missive to the leaders of the American army it might in part atone for his failure to deliver the letter which Washington had consigned to his care.
"We 've had a great time getting it through," continued the man, "and if you lose it now you 'll have Claud Brown right at yer heels, and he 'll never let up. You hear, don't ye?"
"I hear," said Robert quietly.
"Where's yer coat, man?"
​"I have n't any," stammered Robert. "I don't want any for this work."
"Where's the letter ye got from Washington's express?" demanded the man.
"It's safe," replied Robert, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke, in spite of all his efforts to control it.
"Where?"
"I sewed it inside the lining of my—my clothes."
"Well, that's a good place, if ye 'll only keep it there. The other fellow had it there too, but he did n't keep it."
"Shall I start now?" inquired Robert, glancing nervously at the hut and striving to appear calm.
"Here's the letter. Ye'd better take that, I'm thinkin'." He laughed as he held forth the letter, which Robert took and placed inside his shirt.
"I don't know much 'bout ye, Russell," said the man sternly. "But I'm told ye 're all right. If ye hang, we 'll hang together. But Claud Brown is n't quite ready to swing yet. If ye play him false, ye'd better have ev'ry rebel in the colonies after ye!"
Robert made no response, but his fears were in no wise allayed by the knowledge that he ​was dealing with Claudius Brown himself, the well-known leader of the band of cowboys known as "the Thirteen." He was fearful every moment that Russell would approach or Josh come near and reveal the mistake which the man evidently had made. He glanced nervously about him, a movement which Brown noticed, for he laughed lightly as he said,-
"Ye seem t' be in a twitter t' get away. Ye may not find it all so fine as ye 're thinkin', for there's more'n one man on th' lookout for ye."
"All the more reason why I should get started, then."
"That's right; but ye want th' word, don't ye?"
"Yes," replied Robert simply.
"Well, jest say 'Th' Asia,' when ye 're facin' our men, an' it may help ye a bit. Sure ye don't want any coat?"
"No! No!" said Robert hastily. He was eager to be gone, and it was only by a great effort that he controlled his feelings. The man, however, insisted upon giving him some minute directions as to where he would meet friends, how he was to be carried to the other side of the river, when he was to return, and where he was to meet him again. ​"Ye 'll have somethin' for me," he said, "when ye come back, an' 't won't be healthy for ye t' lose it or t' let anything happen to it, either! I shall expect ye here inside o' four days. I 'll be on hand to meet ye."
"Where's my horse?" Robert ventured to inquire, feeling that boldness might be his safest course.
"Where ye left it."
"I 'll start now; that is, if you have n't any other word to give me."
"I 've said my say. Here's yer horse. Josh has brought it," he added.
Robert turned and beheld Josh approaching, leading Nero by the bridle. A fresh fear of discovery came upon him, but he quickly took the horse by the bridle and leaped into the saddle.
"Here, ye better lead him till ye come t' the road," suggested Brown.
Robert made no response save to speak low to his horse, and start him into a run, for the dull-witted Josh had perceived who it was that was mounting the steed, and with a roar that could have been heard far away was shouting his discovery.