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"What right had he to be? A man who rebels should be ready for anytreatment by his superiors. Hang me, if I dared, I would cut everyrebel into pieces and send the parts to his friends with mycompliments. They deserve such treatment. Hang me, what right havethey to rebel?"
"They think they have a right."
"They think! Who are they? A lot of rapscalions who could not becontent with their own country, but must come out here, and when weallow them to do so, they rebel. Englishmen worthy of the name neverrebel."
"And yet, general, there were a good many worthy Englishmen whorebelled against James and supported William the Third."
"That was different, Gilmartin, different; they were patriots, and notrebels."
"As these men will be if they are successful."
"But they cannot be successful--they cannot be. This fellow, Allen,was a farmer. He calls himself colonel. Fancy, of the same rank asyou, Gilmartin, while you were trained in your boyhood for the army,and when you were old enough got a commission----"
"Which I purchased, as I have had to every promotion."
Col. Gilmartin felt sore over his tardy promotions, and never waited asecond opportunity to tell his grievances.
Prescott had been one of the fortunates ones; he had obtained hispromotion easily, so he was satisfied with the condition of the army.
He was in no humor to listen to any complaints, and so he stopped hisbrother officer by saying:
"Order at once the placing of that fellow, Allen, in the heaviestirons--stay, I will give the order myself."
He sent for his orderly and gave instructions for Allen to be placed inheavy irons and taken at once on board the _Gaspee_, war ship, and allthe other prisoners to be ironed and placed on board the other ships inthe river.
The soldiers were pleased with the order, and proceeded to carry it outto the extreme limit.
Ordinary handcuffs were used for the wrists, two prisoners beingmanacled together, Allen being fortunate in having Eben for his fellow.
But on the legs the irons were simply horrible.
Anklets, very tight, were locked on each leg, and attached, in themiddle of the connecting chain, to a bar of iron weighing forty pounds.
The soldiers laughed as they fastened this heavy weight on Allen'slegs, telling him that it was the "king's plate."
The irons were so close that it was impossible for the prisoner to liein any position save on his back.
Allen and Eben were taken to the lowest deck of the schooner _Gaspee_,and a more stifling, filthy, ill-ventilated place it would beimpossible to find.
A mock salute was tendered to the hero of Ticonderoga as he entered theplace, and out of consideration of his rank he was accorded a toolchest on which to sit, and which was also to serve as sleeping place.
"Can I help you any?" whispered the guard, about an hour after Allenhad been placed on the chest.
"I wish you could get me some little blocks of wood to rest the ironon," answered Allen, gratefully.
The man secured the blocks and so saved the constant strain of fortypounds of iron pulling at the victim's legs.
While the men were kind and considerate, those in authority were justthe reverse.
Every indignity possible was heaped on the unfortunate prisoners.
It was midnight, on the first day of Allen's imprisonment, and theAmericans had managed to fall asleep.
Eben was lying at Allen's feet, enduring the most horrible torturesbecause of the irons, but never complaining for fear that he might beseparated from his hero.
Suddenly their sleep was disturbed by a loud voice asking where therebels had been placed.
It was the captain's voice, and he knew well, for he had ordered everydetail.
