It was Duval who emerged from the wreck of the train, demanding surrender.
"Who commands here?" he shouted. "Speak up quick."
There was hesitancy, and then out of the black mass huddled against the bank I recognized Grant's voice.
"I suppose I do; has any one seen Captain Delavan?"
"He fell at the first fire, sir," answered some one huskily.
Grant stepped forth into the moonlight, bareheaded, his sword in hand.
"Then I am the senior officer," he announced, his voice shaking slightly. "Who are you?"
He took a long breath, glancing about at the dark shadows. Some one held up a lighted torch, the red flame casting a sudden gleam over the surrounding faces. It was clear that further resistance was useless, yet Grant temporized.
"No," said Duval; "but I represent the commander."
"I deal with the one responsible in this affair and demand terms. Who is your leader?"
Duval smiled, turning his head inquiringly.
"I don't think you have much choice," he commented dryly. "However, perhaps you are not too proud to talk to a regular who outranks you--I present Major Lawrence, of the Continental Line."
Surprised as I was by being thus suddenly thrust forward into supreme authority, I as instantly understood the purpose, and stepped to the front. Grant stared at my face in the gleam of the smoking torch, almost as though he looked upon a ghost.
"Certainly, Captain. It is a pleasure to meet with you again, especially under such happy circumstances. But my men are becoming impatient. Do you surrender?"
"None, but we are not savages. You will be treated as prisoners of war."
His hatred of me made him obstinate, but the utter helplessness of their position was too apparent to be ignored. A Hessian muttered something in German, and Grant dropped the point of his sword with an oath.
"Good," I said promptly. "Lieutenant, have your men disarm the prisoners."
There was no resistance, and the militiamen herded them against the bank, encircled by a heavy guard. Duval singled out the officers from among the others, and brought them forward to where I stood. There were but three--Grant and two Hessians. I looked at them keenly, recalling the slight figure of the young lieutenant with the boy's voice. Could the lad have been shot, or what had become of him?