“Gentlemen,” interposed Washington, drily, “let me call your attention to the General Order of last August, relative to profane language.”

“Can your Excellency suggest any more moderate terms to apply to such a night?” asked Brereton, with a laugh.

“Be thankful you’ve something between you and the river, my boy.  Twenty-four years ago this very week I was returning from a mission to the Ohio, and to cross a river we made a raft of logs.  The ice surged against us so forcibly that I set out my pole to prevent our being swept down the stream; but the rapidity of the current threw the raft with so much violence against the pole that it jerked me out into ten feet of water, and I was like to have drowned.  This wind and sleet seem warm when I remember that; and had Gates and Cadwallader been there, the storm and ice of to-night would not have seemed to them such obstacles.  ’T was my first public service,” he added after a slight pause.  “Who knows that to-night may not be my last?”

“’T is ever a possibility,” spoke up Webb, “since your Excellency is so reckless in exposing yourself to the enemy’s fire.”

Washington shrugged his shoulders.  “I am in more danger from the rear than from the enemy,” he said equably.

“Ay,” agreed Jack, “but we fight both to-night.  Give us victory at Trenton, and we need not spend thought on Baltimore.”

“Congress is too frightened itself—­” began Baylor, but a touch on his arm from the commander-in-chief checked the indiscreet speech.

Departure had been taken from the Pennsylvania shore before ten; but ice, wind, and current made the crossing so laborious and slow that a landing of the first detachment was not effected till nearly twelve.  Then the boats were sent back for their second load, the advance meanwhile huddling together wherever there was the slightest shelter from the blast and the hail that was now cutting mercilessly.  Not till three o’clock did the second division land, and another hour was lost in the formation of the column.  At last, however, the order to march could be given, and the twenty-four hundred weary, besoaked, and wellnigh frozen men set off through the blinding storm on the nine-mile march to Trenton.

At Yardley’s Ferry the force divided, Sullivan’s division keeping to the river turnpike, intending to enter Trenton from the south, while the main division took the cross-road, so as to come out to the north of the town, the plan being to place the enemy thus betwixt two fires.

Owing to the delay in crossing the river, it was daylight when the outskirts of the town were reached, but the falling snow veiled the advance, and here the column was halted temporarily to permit of a reconnoissance.  While the troops stood at ease an aide from Sullivan’s detachment reported that it had arrived on the other side of the village, and was ready for the attack, save that their cartridges were too damp to use.