To Carry a Message

 By Emilie Miera, age 15

WINNER (ages 14-18) Writing Contest Winter/Spring 2024

Eighteen-year-old William Bridger felt nostalgia squeeze his heart as he cantered into Lexington town. He slowed his horse and smiled as he gazed over the town, remembering happier times before the war broke out. How his life had changed in the past two years!

The last rays of sunlight sinking in the horizon reminded William of the passing time, and the foreboding reality of why he was back in Lexington. His smile faded as he reached into his coat and felt the papers securely hidden within. General Washington’s secret dispatches were no safer here than they were when he had first received them yesterday with orders to take them to General Greene.

Urging his horse on, he turned off the main road and onto an overgrown forest trail. His family’s farm was just a mile from town, and it was here that William hoped to spend the night.

William soon emerged from the forest gloom and saw the familiar farmhouse looming ahead. He sighed in relief as he reined to a stop in front of the doors and dismounted, anxious to see the dear faces of his family once more.

The entrance hall was empty when William opened the door, but he heard clinking dishes coming from behind the dining room door. He walked across the room and grasped the doorknob before a sound behind him made him turn.

The kitchen door opened, and a young girl stepped into the room. Her startled brown eyes met his blue ones blankly for a moment, then she gasped. “William?”

“Betsy!”

His younger sister flew across the room and William wrapped her in a heartfelt embrace. “I have missed you so much!”

He stepped back, smiling. “Where are the . . .” His voice trailed off when he saw his sister’s expression. “Betsy? What is wrong?”

The joy that had been in Betsy’s eyes was replaced by a look of fear. “Oh, William! You should not be here! There are three British officers in the dining room this very moment, and if they find you here—”

William staggered backwards.  “British soldiers?”

Betsy nodded fearfully. “Quickly, follow me!”

She swiftly led the way to the kitchen, and ushered William in.

He froze when he caught sight of his mother at the far end of the room. “Mother!

 “William, my son!” Hannah Bridger flew across the room and embraced her son. “We’ve missed you so much,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

William returned her embrace. “I have missed all of you as well. “ His smile disappeared.  “What are British soldiers doing here? Where is father?”

“Father left to get supplies from a town several days away,” William’s mother said quietly. “This morning Betsy and I were sitting down for breakfast when a troop of soldiers arrived. Their commander informed us that his regiment would spend some time gathering provisions and livestock and that our property would be their quarters until further notice.” She sighed. “With Father away, what could we do? The officers have taken up residence in the house and the soldiers are out in the barn.” She looked at him anxiously. “But why are you here, William?”

“I was passing through Lexington on a mission for General Washington and was hoping to spend the night here, but now… I have put you all in danger by coming, and I apologize.”

“There was no way that you could have known,” his mother said softly. “But you mustn’t stay any longer.” She turned quickly to Betsy. “Elizabeth, quietly go find William’s horse and wait behind the house near Father’s work shed.”

“Yes Mother.” Betsy silently slipped out the door.

Mother turned back to William. “Climb out the window and get your horse from Besty in the back. From there, you can take the forest path that leads to the main road.”

William nodded. “Yes. Well … goodbye.” He embraced his mother tightly. “Give father my love.”

“I shall, William.”

“Thank you.” William paused for a moment on the windowsill and looked back. Keep them safe, Lord! “Goodbye.”

   He quickly dropped to the ground. Giving a quick glance around the moonlit property, William breathed a quick prayer and sprinted across the yard toward the work shed. He did not stop until he reached his destination. He dashed around the shed to the back and nearly stumbled into a pile of wooden crates piled against the shed wall.

Betsy stood in the shadows, holding the reins of his horse. “William? Is that you?”

“Yes,” William whispered breathlessly, taking the reins from her hand. “I must be off, Betsy.”

Betsy threw her arms around him. “I love you, brother.”

William wrapped his arms around her. “I love you too, Betsy. I must hurry—”

A noise from the forest behind them made William draw back and put a finger to his lips.

A distant sound of dry leaves crunching beneath many pairs of boots, mingled with muffled voices, broke the silence of the night.

“William?” Betsy’s voice echoed the alarm in his heart. “Who is that?”

William peered between the trees and saw lanternlight flickering down the forest path. A horse’s shrill whinny resounded through the night.  

 William’s horse restlessly backed into the pile of old crates.

Crash! Before he could do anything, the crates tipped over and fell to the floor. His horse gave a startled neigh.  

“You there!” a commanding voice with a sharp British accent called from among the trees. “Halt!”

William’s heart leapt into his throat. He did not need to see them to know that a regiment of British soldiers was coming down the trail. He reached into his coat and withdrew the secret papers. There was only one thing he could do.

William took his sister firmly by the shoulders, meeting her fear-filled gaze steadily. “Betsy, listen to me carefully.” He pressed the secret dispatches into her cold palm. “These papers must get to General Greene. I do not care how you do it, but you must get them there. Our country is depending on you.”

The crashing footsteps grew louder.

Betsy’s eyes widened in fear. “William–”

“You need to trust me, Betsy. Hide behind the crates and don’t make a noise. No matter what happens, stay hidden. Do you understand?”

Betsy nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. She quickly slipped behind the pile of crates, instantly lost among the shadows.

Through the trees, the moon’s glow and a lantern’s light illuminated figures in crimson uniforms rounding a bend in the path.

William turned and quickly mounted his horse, his heart pounding in his ears. Please Lord, let this work. He pressed his heels onto his horse’s flank, and his startled horse leapt into a canter straight for the looming forest.

The rasp of swords against scabbards and angry shouts from the soldiers told William that his escape had not gone unnoticed. Someone shouted an order, and the figures broke from the forest behind him, swords drawn.

“Halt there!”

William glanced over his shoulder and saw the dim outline of half a dozen soldiers shoving ramrods into the barrels of their muskets. He gritted his teeth and pressed deeper into the forest. The further he was able to draw them away from Betsy the better, but he knew it was only a matter of time before—

A deafening volley of musket-fire exploded behind him, accompanied by a sudden numbness in his right side and a strange buzzing in his ears. Then a wave of blinding pain and dizziness engulfed William, and he vaguely felt himself slipping from the saddle.

“Lord, please keep Betsy safe. I did all that I could!” was his last desperate prayer before blackness enveloped him.

**********

Murmuring voices gradually brought William back to his senses, and he slowly opened his eyes. As he raised his head, his blurred vision made out a fire’s bright glow several yards away, around which shadowy figures stood. Where am I?

A throbbing pain suddenly coursed through his left side. William gritted his teeth and tried to reach his right hand across to his left side to find the source of pain, but couldn’t. He suddenly realized that his hands were bound securely to a tree behind his back, preventing their movement. His heavy coat was missing, and a shiver ran up his spine as the biting night air whipped through his light cotton shirt.

William let out a breath and closed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened. As his senses sharpened, the murmur of voices from the figures at the fire became clearer.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“And you are sure you searched him thoroughly?”

“Very thoroughly, sir.”

The memories clicked into place in William’s brain. The secret dispatches … the British soldiers …

William’s heart throbbed at a sudden thought. Did Betsy get away? He anxiously studied the scene before him. The flickering fire revealed only the crimson-coated soldiers around it before its light blended into the shadows of the surrounding forest.

 William’s thoughts were interrupted by the approach of two soldiers. He shifted to a straighter position before the sharp throb from where a bullet had grazed his side stopped him. He sucked in a few breaths to ease the stabbing pain and warily watched as the soldiers approached.

“What is your name, lad?” The closest man asked when they had halted in front of him. A crimson sash around his waist signified his rank of colonel.

William swallowed and met his gaze. “My name is William, sir.”

The officer studied William closely. “What is your full name?”

 William returned his gaze unwaveringly. “I am under no obligation to reveal my identity, sir.”

 The colonel raised his eyebrows. “What were you doing before my men found you?”

Relief washed over William at the colonel’s question. They didn’t find Betsy! Thank God.

“Answer my question!” the angry words reminded Wiliam that the colonel was waiting for an answer.

 “I do not wish to disclose any information to you, sir,” William said with quiet firmness.

The colonel regarded William pensively. “Well then.” He turned to the soldier behind him, a young officer with a single silver epaulette on his shoulder. “Lieutenant Sharpe, the men found no messages when they searched him?”

“None, sir.”

“Seeing as he refuses to answer any questions, it is obvious that he is a patriot spy.”

William’s head shot up. Spy?

 The colonel was still speaking. “Lieutenant Sharpe, stand guard over the prisoner tonight, and we shall deal with him tomorrow morning.” He lowered his voice. “We are pressed for time and cannot hold a formal trial.”

The colonel turned and walked back to the camp, while the young lieutenant remained at attention several feet away.

William’s mind whirled. They think I’m a spy. His heart pounded in his ears. Spies are hung if they’re caught. A momentary panic came over him, and he frantically yanked at the ropes binding him, but to no avail. He slumped against the tree, exhausted.

“The Lord is my Helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?”

The scripture suddenly came to William’s mind, and he leaned his head against the tree and exhaled. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, new resolve filled his heart. Lord, whatever happens, help me to trust you and give me Your peace. My life is in your hands.

**********

William jerked awake with a start. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the glowing embers where the soldier’s fire had been told William that he had slept for more than a few minutes.

A muffled noise from behind made William stiffen. Before he had time to think, a hand clapped over his mouth. “Ask no questions,” a voice hissed in his ear. “Just do as I tell you.”

The hand was removed, and William, with shock, felt the ropes binding his hands go slack. He scarcely had time to shake feeling into his numb limbs before he was pulled to his feet.

“Follow me,” the man whispered, stealthily leading the way towards the surrounding forest.

William followed silently, mind racing. Where is this man leading me? He barely made out the man’s form in the darkness as they crept deeper into the forest.

William stumbled and nearly crashed into the stranger, who had suddenly paused.

“No need for silence now. Follow me as quickly as you can.” The man led deeper into the trees nearly at a jog.

William followed as rapidly as his injured side allowed. The farther from the enemy camp they got, the more mystified he became. How did this man sneak into the British camp, and how did the lieutenant not discover us?

As the weary minutes of dodging branches and tripping over roots dragged on, William’s lungs began to ache, and spasms of pain shot through his injured side. Just when he thought he couldn’t go a step further, his guide halted. William gratefully leaned against a tree, gasping air into his lungs.

“The forest ends here,” the man whispered breathlessly. “Follow the main road, and you will reach General Green’s army by sunrise.”

William stared into the darkness. “Who are you?”

“That does not matter,” came the quiet answer.

William turned to him. “Whover you are, you saved my life, and I thank you.”

   The moon suddenly emerged from behind the clouds, allowing William to see more than just his shadow. Silver light gleamed off the epaulets on the man’s crimson uniform, and William locked eyes with the young British lieutenant.

William stumbled back in disbelief. “What—”

“Don’t ask,” the lieutenant interrupted. “You must leave now if you want to escape.”

“What about you?”

The lieutenant shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.” He extended his hand. “Goodbye, William.”

   William stared at the British soldier before him. This man saved my life. He slowly clasped the offered hand. “Goodbye. May I beg of you your name?”

   The young lieutenant smiled slightly. “Edward Sharpe.” He squeezed William’s hand. “Godspeed, my friend.”

   William returned the clasp. “The same to you, Edward.”

   A moment later he turned and disappeared into the surrounding forest, and William was left alone.

*********

Sunlight began to peek over the trees as William stumbled into General Green’s camp, exhausted. I made it! Thank You, Lord.  

A sentry’s musket greeted him, but William paid it no heed.

   “Please, sir,” he gasped. “Did my sister arrive? Is she safe?”

   The sentry looked at him suspiciously. “Who are you?”

   “William!”

   The cry shot a thrill through his heart. “Betsy!”

   Betsy flew past the sentry and rushed into his arms. “You’re alive!” she cried, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks.

   William held her close. “Praise the Lord,” was all he managed to whisper. He earnestly searched her face, not daring to ask the question.

   Betsy read his expression and nodded. “The papers are safely delivered to General Greene. I hid them in my dress and rode through the night.”

A great burden rolled off William’s heart at his sister’s words. “Thank You, Lord, for helping us through,” he whispered, overcome with gratefulness. He thought back the mysterious British soldier who had freed him. Who was he?

William shook his head in wonder. There was no way to know, but he would never forget Edward Sharp, even if their paths never crossed again.

But perhaps they would…